<?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-6890860180152278445</id><updated>2011-12-17T22:00:21.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Word moments</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-415894410099851475</id><published>2011-10-03T02:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T02:47:42.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mozart,</title><content type='html'>Sleep eludes me... I have been thinking about a particular letter by Mozart for the past few hours and glanced through the second letter. Something a lecturer said some time ago proves true. The wee hours of the morning seem to be a perfect time for one to think about the music. But this is not an ideal situation as I have piano class in less than seven hours time! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered Nodame, an Japanese anime character, who played quite a number of pieces by Mozart in the live series. Watching it again made me realize how beautiful Mozart's music is. It is absolutely necessary to produce just the right sound...like pearls. Hopefully ranting will help me to feel drowsy. I almost wish I could just faint...which seems to be a form of rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-415894410099851475?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/415894410099851475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=415894410099851475&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/415894410099851475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/415894410099851475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2011/10/dear-mozart.html' title='Dear Mozart,'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-1469739507376167159</id><published>2011-08-10T00:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T01:04:16.159+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fourth week of holiday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;I notice every time I find it hard to fall asleep, I would come here and type away. Well, here goes... =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt; While swimming a few weeks ago, I came to a point where I was gasping for air. Maybe I was kicking too hard or...missed a stroke? Come to think about it, it was more likely that I was out of stamina...haha. I continued and felt a voice telling me to "let go". Not the suicidal kind of "let go"...! In my situation, it translated as "relax"! I decided to heed the voice and really just let go as I swam. I noticed I swam faster... Also, there were no more "out of stamina" situations. It has surely been lingering on my mind in terms of playing them black and white keys! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Something else quite profound which has lingered... As a teacher, one will always wonder whether his/her teaching would have an impact as well as effect on students. Here is something a teacher shared in class. "I don't like to scold students; I like to build them up." If this were a Facebook status, it deserves a double like. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-1469739507376167159?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/1469739507376167159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=1469739507376167159&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/1469739507376167159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/1469739507376167159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2011/08/fourth-week-of-holiday.html' title='fourth week of holiday...'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-6171791799446979386</id><published>2011-06-14T23:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T23:07:01.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All Right to Dream Again...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;The lesson? Three words. Don't give up.&lt;br /&gt;Is the trail dark? Don't sit.&lt;br /&gt;Is the road long? Don't stop.&lt;br /&gt;Is the night black? Don't quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is watching. For all you know right at this moment he may be telling the angel to move the stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The check may be in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;The apology may be in the making.&lt;br /&gt;The job contract may be on the desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't quit. For if you do, you may miss the answer to your prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God still sends angels. And God still moves stones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;- taken from He Still Moves Stones by Max Lucado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-6171791799446979386?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6171791799446979386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=6171791799446979386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/6171791799446979386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/6171791799446979386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-all-right-to-dream-again.html' title='It&apos;s All Right to Dream Again...'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-2068756586438754637</id><published>2011-03-09T23:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T23:56:49.489+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dic.tion.ar.y</title><content type='html'>There is something deeply comforting about flipping through the dictionary in search of that particular word. A better word for the feeling would be "nostalgia". Maybe it is the deja vu of looking for one word after another to satisfy the word puzzle, the smell of an old dictionary... As I flipped through my Webster dictionary in search of the word "metaphor", which I sort of knew but failed to explain properly, that is exactly how I felt. I remembered those childhood days when gadgets like computer or laptop did not exist yet (at least not in my home) and the only way to look for the definition of a word was by using the dictionary. In this era, all I have to do is type the word into google and within seconds, there's my answer. Do you? Or maybe I am one of the few who has been lazy. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-2068756586438754637?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2068756586438754637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=2068756586438754637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/2068756586438754637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/2068756586438754637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2011/03/dictionary.html' title='dic.tion.ar.y'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-2799601845293089079</id><published>2011-02-16T11:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:10:39.281+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A road accident</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Accident or road accident used to be a somewhat foreign term in my family. When it did happen, all I could cling on to is the hope and faith that good will come out of it because there is no accident about each detail that happens in our lives. There is a purpose for each event, each accident, each loss, each celebration, and the list goes on. The choices are clear: to take it and let good come out of it by having a hopeful and optimistic attitude or drowning in the negative effects. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is a privilege to witness the first choice happen. Lying next to my dad's bed is a hopeful nineteen year old who could still smile even through his pain. He had taken some sort of injury to his spinal cord while helping out around the house. The doctors had explained that he might lose the ability to walk. But he clung on and my parents witnessed him being able to wiggle his toes after surgery. He has been walking around and healing well. Not forgetting an important part of this courageous life story is his younger brother who accompanied him throughout this time. He sat by his brother's side most of the time, feeding him, cleaning him, and even playing some Chinese mp3 from his cell phone to cheer him up. I could hear their laughter as they conversed in their dialect. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the bed next to this young teenager lies my dad who has fractures in his tibia and fibula. He was so glad to be on his way home from work to see his family, only to be knocked down from his motorbike. The healing will be a long process, but there is hope in his eyes. There is no best way to explain why things like these happen, but God works all things out for good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-2799601845293089079?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2799601845293089079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=2799601845293089079&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/2799601845293089079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/2799601845293089079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2011/02/road-accident.html' title='A road accident'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-5012660875171622508</id><published>2010-12-31T23:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T00:05:47.857+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The last minutes of 2010</title><content type='html'>What a year! I just received a text and realized that soon it will be dawning of a new decade.  Like what a friend said, I left another year in college. It started with the finals for the first term, now its ending with preparation for the third term exams. Reflections are inevitable...cherished moments, regrets...but I can say that not a day has gone past without God letting me realize that He is always with me, watching over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Limited time...&lt;br /&gt;The exams are looming...two more days to be exact. Will it be enough--the practices &amp;amp; preparations? Perhaps I should not be anticipating what will come after the next two weeks, but grasping each day and charging forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I contemplate what to do next...with Bill Evans accompanying me through the speakers, here's to wishing you a Blessed New Year 2011! :) May your hearts be filled with much love &amp;amp; joy to face each new day. Take care!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-5012660875171622508?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/5012660875171622508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=5012660875171622508&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/5012660875171622508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/5012660875171622508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/12/last-hours-of-2010.html' title='The last minutes of 2010'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-8675490850266756374</id><published>2010-09-09T00:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T00:09:09.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminded of the simple joys in life</title><content type='html'>It does not have to be something big... just something small, but having and leaving a big impression upon our hearts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl around the age of nine sat beside me on the train today. Her hair was parted into two braids. She glanced at me shyly and responded to my smile. It is amazing what a smile...a genuine smile...can do. :) I regret not talking to her then as I worried her sister who was on the other side of the train might not like it. She seemed a friendly girl. Maybe I might bump into her again someday...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-8675490850266756374?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/8675490850266756374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=8675490850266756374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/8675490850266756374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/8675490850266756374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/09/reminded-of-simple-joys-in-life.html' title='Reminded of the simple joys in life'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-6971018702800623374</id><published>2010-09-01T00:11:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:30:39.453+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer break came...now it is almost gone...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As I prepare to begin the fall term, my heart aches at the thought of leaving home. Again. After a month, I have grown accustomed to the day to day routine. And yet, none of these have become dull. Surprises are sprinkled here and there. God has brought special ones who impart...special moments with loved ones...a smile...a word of encouragement...visits from friends...the assurance that he is always there and he cares. Each day counts. Only I miss and squander days, but he never does. Each day and season in life is special. It has a purpose and it is the future we once saw from a far distance...happening right before our eyes. Live in action. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;On a different note, I have always wanted to watch a sunset at the beach. As I stood on the sand with my family and looked at the vast sea before me, I was awestruck. The sun gradually disappeared from our view as the earth rotated. It was absolutely beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a class="htmlTab" href="javascript:void(0)"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;[finally... couldn't resist taking a picture of mum &amp;amp; dad with this backdrop.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/TH0o3ofcvrI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7KxW_y6H0oY/s1600/IMG_5284_copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/TH0o3ofcvrI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7KxW_y6H0oY/s400/IMG_5284_copy.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-6971018702800623374?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6971018702800623374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=6971018702800623374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/6971018702800623374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/6971018702800623374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/09/as-i-prepare-to-begin-fall-term-my.html' title='Summer break came...now it is almost gone...'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/TH0o3ofcvrI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7KxW_y6H0oY/s72-c/IMG_5284_copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-2756841722513219115</id><published>2010-08-16T22:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:31:18.109+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An African Proverb</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;...which may be known to many of you too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to go fast, go alone.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;If you want to go far, go together.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-2756841722513219115?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2756841722513219115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=2756841722513219115&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/2756841722513219115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/2756841722513219115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/08/african-proverb.html' title='An African Proverb'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-579899132227919127</id><published>2010-08-16T21:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T21:59:42.938+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"ladder" thoughts</title><content type='html'>Ever seen "The Three Stooges"? I've never seen it but here's a story I heard yesterday. A member of "The Three Stooges" was carrying a ladder on his shoulder, a long one, around town. Every time he turned...bam! x (number of people around him)...people got hurt. He would turn to these people and puzzle why they were so angry at him and not to mention, hurt! Oblivious to this, he hit others without knowing every time he turned. This is a potential picture of how a person can hurt people around them without realizing it. The ladder represents the various vices which hurt people like unkind words and actions. A simple illustration which is truly an eye opener and something to ponder before my ladder swings and hurts others.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-579899132227919127?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/579899132227919127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=579899132227919127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/579899132227919127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/579899132227919127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/08/ladder-thoughts.html' title='&quot;ladder&quot; thoughts'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-4153325293626689207</id><published>2010-07-26T23:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:31:59.959+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somethin' interesting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;On the LRT today, I saw a lady carrying a bag which had a very interesting question printed on it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt; A V E&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;YOU &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;D O N E&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; S O M E T H I N G&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E X T R A O R D I N A R Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;T O D A Y&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;What a challenge to try to do something extraordinary each day...something good which serves others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-4153325293626689207?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4153325293626689207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=4153325293626689207&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/4153325293626689207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/4153325293626689207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/07/somethin-interesting.html' title='Somethin&apos; interesting'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-8447198893241857894</id><published>2010-07-13T09:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T09:37:53.805+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sneezing: To cover or not to cover</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CRuth%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CRuth%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CRuth%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;style&gt;&lt;!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face	{font-family:"Cambria Math";	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;	mso-font-charset:1;	mso-generic-font-family:roman;	mso-font-format:other;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;}@font-face	{font-family:Calibri;	panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;	mso-font-charset:0;	mso-generic-font-family:swiss;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}@font-face	{font-family:Georgia;	panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 4 5 2 3 3;	mso-font-charset:0;	mso-generic-font-family:roman;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:647 0 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal	{mso-style-unhide:no;	mso-style-qformat:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	margin-top:0in;	margin-right:0in;	margin-bottom:10.0pt;	margin-left:0in;	line-height:115%;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:11.0pt;	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p	{mso-style-noshow:yes;	mso-style-priority:99;	mso-margin-top-alt:auto;	margin-right:0in;	mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;	margin-left:0in;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:12.0pt;	font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}.MsoChpDefault	{mso-style-type:export-only;	mso-default-props:yes;	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoPapDefault	{mso-style-type:export-only;	margin-bottom:10.0pt;	line-height:115%;}@page WordSection1	{size:8.5in 11.0in;	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in;	mso-header-margin:.5in;	mso-footer-margin:.5in;	mso-paper-source:0;}div.WordSection1	{page:WordSection1;}--&gt;&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I read an interesting article on yahoo this morning&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt; "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://health.yahoo.net/news/s/ap/us_med_germy_habits"&gt;Yuck: Few people correctly cover coughs, sneezes&lt;/a&gt;". Like most people, our hands automatically fly to our mouth when we sneeze. Well, in an attempt to protect society from germs from flying around, the germs may be spread further…unless further precautions are taken i.e. washing hands right after sneezing! If not, it is inevitable that we will touch doorknobs and switches among other things.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Health officials recommend the "Dracula" move. Remember how Dracula suddenly draws up his cape? Haha. That's the way to cover a sneeze. Weird... and I would think--unsanitary too as it spreads germs to the clothes. Not ideal as research shows only 1 in 77 did this. Good news! Another preferred option is using a tissue or handkerchief. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Something to think about the next time we sneeze!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a class="cssButton" href="javascript:void(0)" id="publishButton" onclick="if (this.className.indexOf(&amp;quot;ubtn-disabled&amp;quot;) == -1) {var e = document['postingForm'].publish;(e.length) ? e[0].click() : e.click(); if (window.event) window.event.cancelBubble = true; return false;}" target=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-8447198893241857894?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/8447198893241857894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=8447198893241857894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/8447198893241857894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/8447198893241857894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/07/sneezing-to-cover-or-not-to-cover.html' title='Sneezing: To cover or not to cover'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-7619391263501999220</id><published>2010-01-29T11:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T11:22:03.441+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Treasured Memories: Skating...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/S2JPJMjsqWI/AAAAAAAAABo/yDrDJwdkzo8/s1600-h/iceskating.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/S2JPJMjsqWI/AAAAAAAAABo/yDrDJwdkzo8/s320/iceskating.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ice Skating! Is this considered a sport? If yes, I love it! :) It was a first for some of us including me. I must say--how fun!!! There was much laughter as we flailed our arms and tried to keep ourselves upright. Sore legs most certainly followed the next day but it was worth it! The feeling of gliding on "ice" is...wonderful. Freedom. Stress relief after the exams. Thank you Amy, Cheryl, KeYi and Jane! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-7619391263501999220?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7619391263501999220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=7619391263501999220&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/7619391263501999220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/7619391263501999220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/01/treasured-memories-skating.html' title='Treasured Memories: Skating...'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/S2JPJMjsqWI/AAAAAAAAABo/yDrDJwdkzo8/s72-c/iceskating.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-5883314037720583712</id><published>2010-01-07T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T00:17:47.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>post exam</title><content type='html'>After almost five months of gruelling practice and studying, the fall term has finally come to an end. Well, almost. There is still the term concert next week. Then I will be heading home! How time flies. It is the mark of a decade. The New Year was ushered in admist music history studies. It is after the exam, but I can still tell you Johann Sebastian Bach, the famous Baroque period composer, was born on March 21, 1685 in Eisenach, Germany. That is what exams are for. Retaining knowledge. But whether it stays after is another matter altogether. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My classmates and I had a great time playing Uno right after our final paper. We just sat on the floor in the studio and joked away. Special times. All the stress has finally passed. For now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things which I have wanted to do for months but were casted aside can finally come out of their hiding! Read. Craft. Play new pieces. Watch some movies. Ice skate. The list goes on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-5883314037720583712?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/5883314037720583712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=5883314037720583712&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/5883314037720583712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/5883314037720583712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2010/01/post-exam.html' title='post exam'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-4266179636229015648</id><published>2009-12-29T19:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T19:45:12.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>surprise visit</title><content type='html'>In the middle of practice today, I had a little visitor. It was a surprise...this little boy, about 13 months old, decided to say 'Hi'. His aunty was carrying him and they peeked through the door's glass pane. So I invited them in and after awhile, he ran to the piano and started playing the white keys, while peeking at me. How cute! His tiny fingers curved nicely while pressing the keys. There was no banging, just gentle pressure on the keys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little children are truly treasures from above. Each child is special and unique... I realized one thing--they are the face of tomorrow! Our future teachers, nurses, doctors, politicians, artists, and many others. Investing in their lives is indeed vital. The children of our generation would be blessed to have people take time for them and impart what is good. Obedience, manners, tales from our childhood, generosity, faith, love, and the list goes on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-4266179636229015648?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4266179636229015648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=4266179636229015648&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/4266179636229015648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/4266179636229015648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2009/12/surprise-visit.html' title='surprise visit'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-1394946471282125219</id><published>2009-12-26T22:59:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T17:10:34.604+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bookshelf add-on</title><content type='html'>An add-on to my reading collection came from a dear friend for Christmas. It's Max Lucado's "He Still Moves Stones". This is the first time I'm reading his book aside from snippets in the Dayspring greeting cards. I've just finished the first chapter and looking forward to the rest of the book. He had this to say in the acknowledgments section which was quite profound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;You are about to entrust me with your most valuable asset--your time. I pledge to be a good steward. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;In my excitement about the book, I will leave you with this short excerpt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out. (Matt. 12:20) Is there anything more frail than a bruised reed? Look at the bruised reed at the water's edge. A once slender and tall stalk of sturdy river grass, it is now bowed and bent. Are you a bruised reed? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYq1Bwpx8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/uHHMxskcoQ8/s1600-h/HeStillMovesStonesBestseller_L.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419566292080904130" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYq1Bwpx8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/uHHMxskcoQ8/s200/HeStillMovesStonesBestseller_L.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 133px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-1394946471282125219?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/1394946471282125219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=1394946471282125219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/1394946471282125219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/1394946471282125219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2009/12/bookshelf-add-on.html' title='bookshelf add-on'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYq1Bwpx8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/uHHMxskcoQ8/s72-c/HeStillMovesStonesBestseller_L.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-8979072537500550710</id><published>2009-12-26T22:40:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T17:12:26.059+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2009</title><content type='html'>This year's Christmas has been different, but still special. I missed being home with family. My mum dressed our Christmas tree at home and I reminded her to keep it up till I got home. Christmas Eve was spent at home with my housemate. We shared pasta and tang yuen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended the Christmas service at a church nearby. Well, I was a complete stranger in a big church. Not one familiar face except the pastor whom I had heard speak before at my previous church. BUT I did shake about more than ten hands though. A highlight from the service was this line. "The human heart was never made to be satisfied with material things."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sum up Christmas day this year...lunch at Subway, bought my first 2 DVDs here (Disney Pixar's UP &amp;amp; 500 Days of Summer), and spent the rest of the day studying at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished watching "UP". This is going on my list of favorite movies. The list is not long, so this was a really good one for me. The married life portrayed in the movie is a good example! Not to mention the great music on the soundtrack.  I had tears in my eyes during some scenes--truly touching. I shall be watching it again soon! Please do watch it if you haven't already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYh9fQpGKI/AAAAAAAAAA4/NJoNsCWhRBU/s1600-h/pixar-up-new-stills1-small.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419556541834008738" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYh9fQpGKI/AAAAAAAAAA4/NJoNsCWhRBU/s320/pixar-up-new-stills1-small.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 179px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYjTvC7xgI/AAAAAAAAABA/6NObjUFXAI4/s1600-h/pixar-up.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419558023540229634" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYjTvC7xgI/AAAAAAAAABA/6NObjUFXAI4/s320/pixar-up.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-8979072537500550710?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/8979072537500550710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=8979072537500550710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/8979072537500550710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/8979072537500550710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-2009.html' title='Christmas 2009'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a1z-glDth_Q/SzYh9fQpGKI/AAAAAAAAAA4/NJoNsCWhRBU/s72-c/pixar-up-new-stills1-small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890860180152278445.post-7489621291670756656</id><published>2009-12-12T09:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T10:12:46.745+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speechless times</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Quiet moments are precious and rare these days. Getting up early when everyone else is asleep is becoming a habit. Here is the time to enjoy the silence and reflect before starting the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Microsoft Office is a really neat program. I love checking the word count at the bottom of the page. Watching the numbers grow has felt like nurturing a plant even though it is in actual fact an assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December is moving steadily forward to embrace the new year...let it not be wasted! May this season of the year be special for each one! Remember the reason for celebration. If we don't already have one...may we find it. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6890860180152278445-7489621291670756656?l=ruthienotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7489621291670756656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6890860180152278445&amp;postID=7489621291670756656&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/7489621291670756656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6890860180152278445/posts/default/7489621291670756656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthienotes.blogspot.com/2009/12/speechless-times.html' title='Speechless times'/><author><name>Ruth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10370660422201574399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PmuAePe017U/TkFgaXNL3UI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5l9BcIE0Wi0/s220/JS%2BPhotographia-0805_%25281%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
