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	<title>ANTIDOTES for the unpassionate life</title>
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	<description>anecdotes about the mundane inspiring the extraordinary</description>
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		<title>ANTIDOTES for the unpassionate life</title>
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		<title>the wonder that is mom</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2010/05/08/the-wonder-that-is-mom/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 08 May 2010 18:34:32 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[PASSIONista]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Over the receiver I heard mom sigh. She said it was the day before mother’s day and she was alone. Her two kids thousands of miles away and her own mom a thorny 5-hour drive away. If Hary and I were home I imagine that we would buy her a big bunch of flowers and [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=309&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Over the receiver I heard mom sigh. She said it was the day before mother’s day and she was alone. Her two kids thousands of miles away and her own mom a thorny 5-hour drive away. If Hary and I were home I imagine that we would buy her a big bunch of flowers and tempt her to take a day off from her perpetual diet. But for more than 10 years now we have never been close enough (geographically) to do so. And so today, on mother’s day I have decided to give mom the next best thing- a bouquet of words and a generous spread of the little things that make us love her so much <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_cool.gif' alt='8)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love mom because she treats age like a traffic enforcer- merely a prop to guide you and  not something to slow you down.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love mom because no matter how old we get, she always treats us like we’re 12 &#8211; forcing us to eat and telling us to take a shower, even though we are full-grown adults.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We admire how mom multi-tasks: reading an email with an andrea bocelli cd in one hand, an apple in the other, chewing while yelling at for someone to set the table.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We admire how she can shift from flawless English to heavy, accent-dripping Ilonggo in the blink of an eye.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We are joyfully amused at how such a smart woman beams with pride after discovering how to change her Facebook profile picture; how when asked the model of her cellphone answered, “SMART” and when asked the OS of her laptop, answered “IBM Thinkpad”. <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif' alt=':D' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We are glad she did not have the patience to sit down and tutor us high school biology (nor chemistry, nor algebra, nor physics, nor geometry…). We learned to survive in UP.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love how at 5 she made us start to vacuum and wash dishes. Today we keep clean kitchens.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love how she forced us to give up Saturday morning sleep to clean the house (yeah right!). Today our houses are shipshape. <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_razz.gif' alt=':P' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love how in primary school she started to give us monthly allowance to budget ourselves and how she insisted that I give her a financial report (complete with receipts) of my monthly expenses when in college I told her my allowance wasn’t enough. Today we know how to manage our resources.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We are thankful she didn’t spare us scolding and lectures when we needed them. It taught us well.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We appreciate how mom read to us and rewarded us with books when we were young- it taught us the value and wonder of the written word.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love mom for showing us how hard work pays.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love how humble she is- no matter how high she has reached on the corporate ladder she still seeks our advice – and follows it.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love her because the ways she trusts us has taught us that we are capable of great things.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We are eternally grateful for her prayers . She was the angel who introduced God to us.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love that she is a friend who know how to laugh with us.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love that she has been both mom and dad to us.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love that while she is our mother, this role does not solely define her- she is in herself a creative, independent, fun-loving, spirited woman.</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">We love that she gives us guilt-gilded calls a day before mother’s day…it makes us realize that she is indeed worth our time and gratitude. And it teaches us how to honor <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':-)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>And so mom, even though we are far away, this was written-neither out of compulsion nor guilt but out of our desire to appreciate you and make you happy today- on mother’s day, because we know you want the same thing for us, every single day. Happy mother&#8217;s day, you&#8217;re the best! <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif' alt=':D' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>- Mian, Hary, Malou &amp; little Beckster<br />
<a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/mom-day1.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-308" title="mom day" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/mom-day1.jpg?w=539&#038;h=720" alt="" width="539" height="720" /></a></p>
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			<media:title type="html">mom day</media:title>
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		<title>More than one life to live for</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/more-than-one-life-to-live/</link>
		<comments>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/more-than-one-life-to-live/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 20:22:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
		
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		<description><![CDATA[KITH &#38; KIN (the nearest and dearest) Over a bowl full of seasoned ground beef, we sat around making lumpiang shanghai and preparing for Noche Buena (Christmas dinner). One thing I love about the Christmas holidays is the time spent with my beloved extended family. This year, I especially loved that the conversation revolved around [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=282&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong><span style="color:#00ccff;">KITH &amp; KIN (the nearest and dearest)</span> </strong></p>
<p>Over a bowl full of seasoned ground beef, we sat around making <em>lumpiang shanghai</em> and preparing for Noche Buena (Christmas dinner). One thing I love about the Christmas holidays is the time spent with my beloved extended family. This year, I especially loved that the conversation revolved around not only the happenings of the year that passed and the constant bantering about why we singles seem to be taking forever to settle down and have kids. This year we also talked about what lay ahead for our family as a whole. <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif' alt=':D' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>I have heard the story a million times before. My grandparents, Daddy and Mommy Old (as we fondly call them) both came from poor families. They put themselves through school, most of the time as working students until they both got their degrees in Education. Daddy Old was the vice principal and Mommy Old a teacher of an elementary school in a tiny Mindanao town called Tacurong in Sultan Kudarat. Apparently, dusty Tacurong was cloud 9 for them as it soon became the ground on which their fervent love for one another would take root. To cut the story short, they got married and had a dozen kids. Literally a dozen. My mom is # 5 of the 12-member troupe. <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>You don’t have to be an economist to equate that 12 kids (plus relatives) in a household supported by two teachers would not amount to abundance, especially when Daddy Old decided to go back to school to pursue a Law degree. Mom used to tell me that breakfast would usually consist of fried rice and scrambled eggs spread as thin as paper so that everyone could have a bite or two. She had to color a part of her white socks black to hide the fact that her shoes had a lingering hole on the side. She would use these stories repeatedly; I’m pretty sure so that we would grow up humble and be ever thankful of what we have now. Nevertheless, what the family lacked in wealth, they made up in education and hard work.</p>
<p>Today, all 12 siblings are professionals, stable and respected in their own circles of influence. Doctors, dentists, scientists, educators and more. God has definitely been great to us.</p>
<p>&#8230;.Back to the kitchen table with <em>lumpiang shanghai</em>&#8230;.</p>
<p>Because of their past, I assume that my mother and her siblings all strived individually to prosper and provide for their own immediate families, i.e. spouse and kids. Though there is no doubt about each one’s love and concern for the greater family, it was only now that we were verbally sharing our dreams for the family as a whole. <span style="color:#ffff99;"><em>What is this family called for? What is our family legacy? How can we help each other and influence the community?</em></span> These were some of the agenda in our impromptu meeting which lasted about 2 days. We talked about excellence, musing over how we could bring glory to God as a family and how we could train the younger ones to take on their future with confidence and a strong sense of purpose. We prayed. And talked some more…</p>
<p><span style="color:#00ccff;"><strong>ONE MAN, COUNTLESS GENERATIONS</strong></span></p>
<p>Not long ago, I heard one of our dear pastors share about how we were ‘born to shine’. A story about two families- the Jukes and the Edwards family was told. Tracing their roots and examining the generations that followed, the fate of their bloodlines were recorded.</p>
<p>The Jukes clan consisted of 1200 people. 400 of them lived wayward lives. 310 were beggars, 173 criminals, 60 habitual thieves, 50 common prostitutes, 7 killers and only 20 (a mere 0.016 per cent!) learned to make a living.</p>
<p>On the other hand, the head of the Edwards family- Jonathan Edwards was a godly man. He was President of Princeton University, a Christian leader, pastor and evangelist. In his lineage of 1400 people, 13 became College presidents, 65 were professors, 100 lawyers, 30 judges, 66 doctors (including a medical school dean), 80 holders of public office (3 US Senators, 3 Mayors, 3 Governors, 1 US Vice President) and the other 1,000 were all professionals.</p>
<p>Talk about the difference one virtuous man can make!</p>
<p>I do not think that it was because Jonathan Edwards was president of Princeton that his family was so successful. I believe it is because <span style="color:#00ffff;">he had the favor of God in his life, and as he led and stood as an example for his family, the blessing flowed to them as well</span>.</p>
<p>This is what I dream for my family. I dream that we would live lives relinquished to the will of God – not necessarily as pastors or church workers (although that would be very honorable, just as the eldest of the grandkids, Ate Ahlmira and Kuya Paul are epitomizing now), but as <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>people who choose to be excellent wherever they are; as people who genuinely love, generously give and graciously comprehend that the long journey they have surmounted is actually<em> just beginning!</em></strong></span> There is so much more we can do. <span style="color:#ff99cc;">When we live according to His purposes, our destinies become greater than we are.<strong> We cease to exist for this generation alone and we start to instigate greater things for the next</strong>.</span></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#00ccff;">A BABY (AND A DREAM) IS BORN</span> </strong></p>
<p><strong><a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/becca-baby.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-283" title="becca baby" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/becca-baby.jpg?w=300&#038;h=199" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a><br />
</strong></p>
<p>Two weeks ago, my niece Rebecca was born. She is the fourth of Daddy and Mommy Olds’ great grand kids. She is officially the new ‘star’ in the family, the bearer of the crown until another baby will dethrone her <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' /> . About two days after Becca was born, her mom Ate Malou was rushed to the operating room because of postpartum bleeding. She lost three pints of blood and caused my brother Hary to cry four. News spread in our family like wildfire and soon enough, Mommy Old made that long distance call to me (and I guess to others all over the world) saying that she was setting up a prayer chain for Ate Malou’s health and fast recovery (I love Mommy Old <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' /> ). Thank God everything turned out ok. I thanked God even more when I later read Ate Malou’s post <span style="color:#cc99ff;">[http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/notes/malou-hartantyo/the-lower-50-of-the-5050-chances-of-giving-birth/501647170522]</span> saying that if it were not for Becca’s need to stay in the hospital another day, causing her to be discharged late as well, the bleeding might have caused her to die were she at home 30 minutes away from the hospital. If that isn’t proof enough that God is with us, I don’t know what is!</p>
<p>Becca’s need saved her mom’s life. What was perceived as an obstacle was actually heaven-sent. And so in the same way, <span style="color:#ff00ff;"><strong>we should not fear that our limitations will hinder our pursuit of greater things</strong></span>. We know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them (Rom. 8:28).</p>
<p>Our family isn’t without flaw. We have our share of quirks and shortcomings; our share of carnality as any other family would. But what difference does a day of imperfection, a week of doubt or a month of fear make if our intentions are set to reach that big destiny? And if our trust is grounded in him who knows no impossibility, his light in us will continue to shine, even long after Becca will be dethroned the 100<sup>th</sup> time. <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_wink.gif' alt=';)' class='wp-smiley' />  We live one life. But it can matter to millions more.</p>
<p><span style="color:#ffff00;">&gt;&gt; Joshua 24:15- “But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ffff00;"><span style="color:#000000;"><a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/dad-mom-old-with-grandkids.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-284" title="dad mom old with grandkids" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/dad-mom-old-with-grandkids.jpg?w=604&#038;h=453" alt="" width="604" height="453" /></a></span></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">Proud Daddy and Mommy Old with a handful of grandkids <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_surprised.gif' alt=':o' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p><a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/happy-family.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-285" title="happy family" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/happy-family.jpg?w=640&#038;h=480" alt="" width="640" height="480" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">A happy bunch of us on Christmas morning <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_cool.gif' alt='8)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
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		<title>How not to kill a roach</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/how-not-to-kill-a-roach/</link>
		<comments>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/how-not-to-kill-a-roach/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 15:26:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
		
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		<description><![CDATA[It is a very unfortunate reality that if you would spend a few days in a Filipino home, you&#8217;d likely  encounter at least 1 cockroach. No matter how clean the house, I suppose the temperate weather makes it idyllic for these crawly creatures to breed. As a result, Filipinos have devised a local tool for [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=270&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It is a very unfortunate reality that if you would spend a few days in a Filipino home, you&#8217;d likely  encounter at least 1 cockroach. No matter how clean the house, I suppose the temperate weather makes it idyllic for these crawly creatures to breed.</p>
<p>As a result, Filipinos have devised a local tool for pest control. It is inexpensive, available to all levels of society and is used in a simple “aim-and-hit” manner, as follows:</p>
<p><a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/weapon-of-choice.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-271" title="weapon of choice" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/weapon-of-choice.jpg?w=300&#038;h=285" alt="" width="300" height="285" /></a></p>
<p>Hahaha! I remember a few years ago when we lived in a small, kind of dingy rented house in the dusty city of General Santos. Though our pest problem was not at overwhelming levels, I was used to hearing mom’s occasional shriek as she saw cockroaches skittering across the living room or kitchen floor. These screams would usually be followed by her hollering at me to pick up a rubber slipper and kill it…which of course would be ensued by my refusal to do so. <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_razz.gif' alt=':P' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>On one of those days, I distinctly remember mom running around with one slipper (the other one in her hand) trying with high spirits to slay an ill-fortuned roach. Having cornered it, she figured her time of revenge had come. However, the little thing suddenly flapped its wings and started to fly around. In her alarm, mom started aiming with her slipper but as it scurried about even more, she panicked and with a loud thud stepped on the poor thing- with her bare foot! <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_eek.gif' alt='8O' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>Haha! Mom was caught between hysterical laughter and the sickening feeling of having a squashed roach stuck to her foot. I laughed so hard I thought I would faint.</p>
<p>The lesson? <strong><span style="color:#ffcc99;">Panic clouds the verity that there is a proper way of doing everything</span></strong>. <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_cool.gif' alt='8)' class='wp-smiley' /> True, mom did effectively carry out her objective but in panic, she did so with a bad consequence. So in stress- and panic-inducing situations, let’s not get ourselves caught with that sickening feeling of having made a bad, rash decision. Breathe in, visualize that goo on your foot and take a moment to think it through. <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_wink.gif' alt=';)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p><span style="color:#ffff99;">&gt;&gt; 1 Thes. 5:8, “But let us who live in the light think clearly, protected by the body armor of faith and love, and wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation.”</span></p>
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		<title>The Beholder</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/the-beholder/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 15:08:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inklings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/?p=254</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Q. What do you see in the diagram below? Answers: From a mathematician: It is a circle, a shape with all points equidistant from its center. From a writer: It is the letter ‘O’, the 15th letter of the English alphabet. From a chemist: Oxygen. From an over-zealous biologist: It is the circle of life. [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=254&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Q. What do you see in the diagram below?</p>
<p style="text-align:left;"><a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/o.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-258" title="O" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/o.jpg?w=123&#038;h=126" alt="" width="123" height="126" /></a>Answers:</p>
<ul>
<li>From a <span style="color:#ff99cc;">mathematician</span>: It      is a circle, a shape with all points equidistant from its center.</li>
<li>From a <span style="color:#ffff99;">writer</span>: It is the      letter ‘O’, the 15<sup>th</sup> letter of the English alphabet.</li>
<li>From a <span style="color:#ccffff;">chemist</span>: Oxygen.</li>
<li>From an <span style="color:#cc99ff;">over-zealous      biologist</span>: It is the circle of life.</li>
<li>From a <span style="color:#ffff00;">Tagalog-English web      translator</span>: An informal way to say yes.</li>
<li>From a <span style="color:#00ccff;">Malaysian waiter</span>: O      means ‘without milk’, i.e. kopi-O means coffee with no milk.</li>
<li>From a <span style="color:#ffcc99;">woman in love</span>: It      is my future wedding ring (you have to tilt  it to see the amourous inscriptions we      will get engraved)</li>
<li>From a <span style="color:#00ff00;">3-year-old</span>: It is      the moon.</li>
<li>From a blogger who wishes      to get a point across: A simple illustration that shows us that <span style="color:#ffff00;"><strong>we see things not as they are but as <em>WE</em> are</strong></span>, according to the      ‘lenses’ that we wear.</li>
</ul>
<p>We react to charity either with thanksgiving or with humiliation. We consent repeated failure as either a step closer to success or as the seal of our futility. We view love as either something to crave or something to offer.</p>
<p>Faith: a blind hope or the substance of things hoped for? The Gospel: a consenting remedy for man’s feeble efforts to reach God or an expression of His relentless love for us?</p>
<p>Wisdom and revelation: stumbled upon or deliberate divine pursuit?</p>
<p>We <em><strong>DECIDE</strong></em> how we see things that we face. We do so either with wisdom or with imprudence and offense. What lenses do you have on? <span style="color:#ffff00;">I hope O means more to you than nothing</span>. <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_cool.gif' alt='8)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p><span style="color:#cc99ff;">&gt;&gt; Proverbs 8:1,9- “Listen as wisdom calls out! Hear as understanding raises her voice! [Saying] My words are plain to anyone with understanding, clear to those who want to learn.”</span></p>
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			<media:title type="html">O</media:title>
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		<title>Brains for the simple-minded</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/brains-for-the-simple-minded/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 25 Sep 2009 10:39:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inklings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/?p=217</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[All I heard all day was RT-PCR. All the other words sounded like blah bah blah to me It’s not that I was not listening; it’s that I barely understood what I heard. RT-PCR means Reverse Transcriptase Polymerase Chain Reaction, for the benefit of those who don’t know (which included me until not so long [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=217&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img class="alignleft size-thumbnail wp-image-216" title="RNA" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/rna.jpg?w=101&#038;h=150" alt="RNA" width="101" height="150" /></p>
<p>All I heard all day was RT-PCR. All the other words sounded like blah bah blah to me <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_sad.gif' alt=':(' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>It’s not that I was not listening; it’s that I barely understood what I heard. RT-PCR means Reverse Transcriptase Polymerase Chain Reaction, for the benefit of those who don’t know (which included me until not so long ago <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  ). It’s basically a molecular method by which we can make copies of DNA sequences.</p>
<p>As  I sat through the series of lectures, I silently prayed that my mind would suddenly open to this completely new world I was venturing into…that I would suddenly find light as I sifted through the mechanisms of denaturation, annealing and DNA extension.<img class="alignright size-thumbnail wp-image-220" title="th_nosebleed_koichi" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/th_nosebleed_koichi.jpg?w=107&#038;h=150" alt="th_nosebleed_koichi" width="107" height="150" /></p>
<p>The speaker kept saying that it wasn’t rocket science. He kept saying, “it’s just simple primer-dimery”. He gave examples of “very funny” data sets. I saw no humor in them at all. I felt my brain would bleed out through my nose.</p>
<p>And when the magical “Thank you for attending today’s talks, see you tomorrow” words echoed, my mind wandered off to simpler times. Times when ‘bases’ were seen on baseball fields &#8212; not on RNA; when the only place salt concentration mattered was on my french fries; and when all I was asked to do was ‘fold’ laundry and not DNA amplicons…</p>
<p>There I was, daydreaming. There I was, a mere 15 hours away from “DAY II” of the workshop. Something had to change. I realized I had only two options:  1) Surgically open my skull and shove an advanced molecular bio textbook in it; or 2) Put all my eggs of hope in one basket called <strong><span style="color:#339966;">GRACE</span></strong>.</p>
<p>The blood slowly flowed back through my nose and seeped back into my brain. Lol. <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif' alt=':D' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>Grace can mean so many things – a free gift, unmerited favor, enabling power, God’s love in action…but one thing I know is that we don’t need to be in church in order to experience it. <span style="color:#00ffff;">If grace was a person, I imagine a lot of us would be intimidated by him because he is everything we are not: strong when we are weak, smart when we are nutty, peaceful when we are most anxious and always composed in calamity. </span>It would be much easier to embrace him rather than compete with him, don’t you think?</p>
<p>The speaker was right after all; this really isn’t rocket science. But it isn’t a piece of cake either…and life is just like that- we can’t get everything with a mere snap of a finger. I know it will take a lot of effort and a lot of ‘burning the midnight oil’ before I can really catch on with what I heard that day, but at least with grace I am confident enough to say that one day, I will know exactly what primer dimery is. And I’ll teach you when I find out <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_wink.gif' alt=';-)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">&gt;&gt; 2 Corinthians 12:9 says, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ&#8217;s power may rest on me.” </span></p>
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		<title>The Sly Passing of Mr. Time</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2009/01/21/the-sly-passing-of-mr-time/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 21 Jan 2009 08:14:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inklings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/?p=129</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Mr. Today Time came about the day I was born He smiled at me as I baby-talked And herded me off to my first day at school He danced with me at the high school ball And studied careers with me. Mr. Time always seemed sluggish when I was in pain Yet hasty when I [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=129&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><!-- 	 	 --></p>
<p><span style="color:#ff6600;"><img class="size-medium wp-image-130 alignright" title="time_eye" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/time_eye.jpg?w=300&#038;h=201" alt="time_eye" width="300" height="201" /></span><span style="color:#008000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><strong><span style="color:#ff6600;">M</span><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">r.</span> Today Time</span></strong></span><span style="color:#ff6600;"> </span><span style="color:#ccffff;">came about the day I was born</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">He smiled at me as I baby-talked</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">And herded me off to my first day at school</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">He danced with me at the high school ball</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">And studied careers with me.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Mr. Time always seemed sluggish when I was in pain</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Yet hasty when I basked in joy.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">He seemed to pause when I prayed</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">But crept an inch forward each time I blinked,</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">The steady ticks and tocks of his breath</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Always half-seconds faster than my heart beat.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#008000;"><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>MR</strong>. Time had a wife named</span> <span style="color:#ff00ff;">Love</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">In whose company I laughed and wept</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#008000;"><span style="color:#ccffff;">They had a son called</span> <span style="color:#ff9900;">L</span><span style="color:#ff9900;"><span style="color:#ff9900;">i</span>fe</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Whom I embraced as my own</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#008000;"><span style="color:#ccffff;">And a maidservant named</span> <span style="color:#cc99ff;">Memory</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Always trailing behind them.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>THE</strong> Time family was tender and fondly jealous.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">When I obsessed with self-seeking pleasures</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">And burdened myself with worry</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Today hurriedly fled away;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">I sorely missed Love</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">And hardly saw Life.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>THOUGH</strong> my old-age is outlying,</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">I wish Mr. Time could escort me back to mom and dad&#8217;s arms</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Whisk me in reverse to brother&#8217;s playfulness</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">And convoy with me to the delights of innocence.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">But Mr. Time is speedy and knows only to travel forward</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#008000;"><span style="color:#ccffff;">Solely</span> <span style="color:#cc99ff;">Memory</span> <span style="color:#ccffff;">lingers to nurse my fancies.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>TODAY</strong> Time is my comrade and brother</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">But he is sly as can be</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">Though he expresses himself as an expanse around me</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">When I peer over my shoulder, he is gone</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;">He walks with me only when I perceive him to&#8230;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>OH!</strong><strong> That I may spend my days shrewdly enough</strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>To hold fast to Love,</strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong>To cherish Life</strong></span></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#008000;"><span style="color:#ccffff;">And not let</span> <span style="color:#00ccff;">Mr. Time</span> <span style="color:#ccffff;">pass me by too quickly!</span></span></strong></p>
<p style="text-align:right;">mian.hartantyo.01_09</p>
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		<title>PhD Blues + clues!</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2009/01/20/phd-blues-clues/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 11:24:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inklings]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[OK. I hate to admit it but this entry was bound to happen. Let me just start by saying how truly, deeply thankful I am for the many doors of academic opportunity that God has opened up to this very day of my life. I have not lacked any good thing, and have, in many [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=113&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>OK. I hate to admit it but this entry was bound to happen. Let me just start by saying how truly, deeply thankful I am for the many doors of academic opportunity that God has opened up to this very day of my life. I have not lacked any good thing, and have, in many cases, been showered with more favor than I deserve.</p>
<p>But even the scholastic yellow brick road isn&#8217;t always smooth. There are always cracks and stubble that you can trip over. And as for my academic journey, I suppose some of these comics can help describe some of the debris that keeps me from running down the loooong, arduous stretch of a track, into that glorious triumph! (people commonly call it <em>graduation</em> but we grad students just love to exaggerate this in direct proportion to how far we are from it) <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif' alt=':-D' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>This conversation really happened (me being the guy in glasses):</p>
<p><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-114" title="phd-comics" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/phd-comics.jpg?w=460&#038;h=199" alt="phd-comics" width="460" height="199" /></p>
<p>Hahaha!! This next one&#8230; I certainly try not to make it happen every day <img src='http://s1.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_eek.gif' alt='8O' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-115" title="phd013008s" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/phd013008s.gif?w=460&#038;h=199" alt="phd013008s" width="460" height="199" /></p>
<p>For the benefit of those who don&#8217;t know, I am currently studying under a work scholarship. This deal entails that (among other duties) I help teach a class and correct student reports, lab day books et cetera&#8230; this is me doing that. Seriously:</p>
<p><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-116" title="undergrads" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/undergrads.gif?w=460&#038;h=199" alt="undergrads" width="460" height="199" /></p>
<p>P.S. no offense meant! The reports are not <em>that</em> bad <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  Not all the time at least..hehe. I&#8217;m kidding.</p>
<p>And lastly, though this didn&#8217;t really happen, it may well serve as a warning to friends and family who may be curious as to how my research and lab work are going:</p>
<p><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-118" title="phd02271" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/phd02271.gif?w=460&#038;h=189" alt="phd02271" width="460" height="189" /></p>
<p>Hahaha..I think writing this gave me a bigger laugh than it did you. I guess it just comforts me to know that I am not the only one going through this so-called PhD blues. Some people even call it <strong>P</strong>ermanent <strong>H</strong>ead <strong>D</strong>amage! I refuse to heap that curse over my head of course. I would rather acknowledge that even though the scholarly path may leave us clueless (and desperate!) at times, there is a <strong>P</strong>erfect &amp; very <strong>H</strong>elpful <strong>D</strong>eity who can always give us the wisdom and strength and more importantly, the motivation that we need to keep on.</p>
<p>I know you don&#8217;t need a PhD to be smart. PhD&#8217;s don&#8217;t even make people more important than others. <span style="color:#99ccff;">But having <strong>P</strong>ursued (our dreams), <strong>H</strong>umbled ourselves (enough to trust God) and <strong>D</strong>elivered (the very best that we could), that&#8217;s what makes us not just smart but <strong>WISE</strong></span>. That is the essence of excellence. And at <em>that</em> rate, just about anybody could have a PhD&#8230;minus the blues.  <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_cool.gif' alt='8)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p><span style="color:#ff99cc;">&gt;&gt; Psalm 69:32- &#8220;The humble will see their God at work and be glad. Let all who seek God&#8217;s help live in joy.&#8221;</span></p>
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		<title>PASSIONistas! (Blog Prelude)</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2008/12/11/passionistas-blog-prelude/</link>
		<comments>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2008/12/11/passionistas-blog-prelude/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Dec 2008 19:10:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[PASSIONista]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Everybody has their own fashion sense. Not everybody has a good one though . I&#8217;m sure you&#8217;ve heard of fashionistas. They&#8217;re those people who you see in the glossy ads and base your clothing check lists on. Sure fashionistas are easy to spot..but PASSIONista? Well, in my newfangled dictionary, a passionista is someone who lives [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=42&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-43" title="life-comedy" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/life-comedy.jpg?w=420&#038;h=315" alt="life-comedy" width="420" height="315" /></p>
<p>Everybody has their own fashion sense. Not everybody has a good one though <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  . I&#8217;m sure you&#8217;ve heard of fashionistas. They&#8217;re those people who you see in the glossy ads and base your clothing check lists on. Sure fashionistas are easy to spot..but PASSIONista? Well, in my newfangled dictionary, a <strong>passionista is someone who lives dictated by a <span style="color:#3366ff;">WORTHY</span> passion</strong>. Among the range of definitions for the word PASSION, two of the ones I love most (and thus chose to be central assertions in this blog) are:</p>
<p><strong><em>PASSION</em></strong><em>. n. 1: The state or capacity of being acted on by external agents or forces. 2: An ardent (fiery, hot, shining, glowing) affection. </em></p>
<p>Life is too short to spend blandly. It&#8217;s too short to take for granted. It&#8217;s too short to waste on days without ardent affection! Ultimately, we live for God and for His purposes&#8230;we align ourselves to His will and love. But along the way, He gives us gifts, countless treasures if you might- in family, friendship, in solitude, in experience, in grace, in love, in hardship, in forgiveness, in charity, in receiving, in learning, in sharing&#8230;even in the mundane!</p>
<p><strong>An unpassionate life is one where anxiety outweighs joy, where calculation overcomes adventure and fear overshadows love. To live unpassionately is to stubbornly stay the same way we are today, tomorrow, to live a life without purpose</strong>&#8230;until one day, we end up looking back on our years with sighs of regret.</p>
<p><span style="color:#3366ff;">A <strong>passionate life</strong> is guided by Truth, subsisted in faith, established in hope and governed by Love</span>. It&#8217;s a lot of fun!</p>
<p>What should drive us?  What should melt us? What should empower us? What should make us smile, giggle, hoot? What is that external force that compels us with a fiery affection? If you can answer in a heartbeat, a PASSIONista you are!</p>
<p><span style="color:#ff6600;">&gt;&gt; Phil. 4:8- <em>&#8220;&#8230;whatever things are true, whatever things are honorable, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report; if there is any virtue, and if there is any praise, think about these things</em>.&#8221;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ff6600;"> &gt; &#8220;Unless you find something worth dying for, you&#8217;re not really living&#8221; -RSt.James </span></p>
<p> p.s. I&#8217;m the second passionista from the left <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif' alt=':D' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
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		<title>Twisty clouds &amp; a tale of un-regret</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2008/12/11/twisty-clouds-a-tale-of-un-regret/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Dec 2008 17:19:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inklings]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[MAMMATUS clouds&#8230;that&#8217;s what these clouds are really called (although I prefer my &#8216;twisty clouds&#8217; name better). This is a real picture; mammatus clouds are formed when the air is saturated with rain droplets or ice crystals and starts to sink. I love this picture. This isn&#8217;t something you see everyday&#8230;or every lifetime for that matter. [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=28&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-32" title="mammatus-clouds1" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/mammatus-clouds1.jpg?w=420&#038;h=315" alt="mammatus-clouds1" width="420" height="315" /></p>
<p>MAMMATUS clouds&#8230;that&#8217;s what these clouds are really called (although I prefer my &#8216;twisty clouds&#8217; name better). This is a real picture; mammatus clouds are formed when the air is saturated with rain droplets or ice crystals and starts to sink.</p>
<p>I love this picture. This isn&#8217;t something you see everyday&#8230;or every lifetime for that matter. But the thing that I love most is the fact that these clouds are by-products of tornadoes. Now who said nothing beautiful can come out of a disaster? That is just not true.</p>
<p>There was this meeting I attended once in UPLB. There were 5 of us and we were asked, &#8220;when you die, how do you want people to remember you?&#8221;. I was only 16 years old then but after some introspection, I answered that <strong><span style="color:#3366ff;">I wanted to be someone with no regrets</span>. </strong>Now, ten years later, I think that answer still holds true.</p>
<p>Whenever I reflect on this, I cannot help but become my melancholic self. I&#8217;m sure we all have regrets. My greatest one would have to be my dad; my relationship with him I mean. Everybody says that when I was little, I was daddy&#8217;s girl- both because I stuck to him like a lizard to a wall and because I looked like his little female version&#8230;and how I hated being teased that! Hehe..anyway, I will not attempt to narrate my life story. But in short, Dad lived in a whole other country, literally, and sadly we grew apart. I&#8217;m not proud to say that like many injudicious teenagers, I masked myself with apathy and did not make that much effort to keep in touch. On the occasions that Dad did visit, I kept myself at bay because I knew that he wouldn&#8217;t stay for long.</p>
<p>But I grew up, increasing both in years and in wisdom <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  And I knew I had to change.  I knew this important relationship was one I had to rekindle, even in small, simple  ways. So I tried to contact him. We exchanged a few emails but when I moved to Malaysia, communication dwindled again. Remembering what I had to do, I sent several emails. But the emails kept bouncing back. I thought his email account may have been full and un-updated so I posted a few letters. After a few months with no reply, I got kind of nervous and decided to send a letter to Dad&#8217;s office asking for his current contact details.</p>
<p>Two weeks later, I got an email saying that Dad had passed away five months earlier. Needless to say, I was shaken and was forced to face the dreadful.</p>
<p>Those times weren&#8217;t easy but somehow, by God&#8217;s incredible grace, I got through it. It was hard but something kept telling me not to dwell on the thousand &#8220;what if&#8230;&#8221; and &#8220;if only&#8230;&#8221; sentiments that were running in my mind.</p>
<p>There was so much temptation to regret because there were so many things left unsaid, undone. But I realized that the past is the past and dwelling on it can be harder than moving forward. If dad were still here today, I would write more, I would give out hugs, I would serve him. I&#8217;d greet him happy father&#8217;s day and happy birthday everyday to make up for all the times I failed to remember. I&#8217;d appreciate his quirky little ways of letting me know that he cares.</p>
<p>Losing dad was like a silent tornado. But now the downpour&#8217;s stopped and the mammatus clouds have formed- I will never take relationships for granted ever again. I will cherish every moment I have with people I love. I will not leave any broken relationship unmended. <strong><span style="color:#3366ff;">Realizing this now does not make up for any of my mistakes, but I choose not to lament  because all these hard lessons are essential keys to life</span></strong>. I am a better person, and that is dad&#8217;s doing. I am the legacy that he left. And for that reason, I will not regret.</p>
<p><span style="color:#ff6600;">&gt;&gt; Romans 5:3- &#8220;We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us&#8211; they help us learn to endure.&#8221;</span></p>
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		<title>Living. Laughing. Loving together!</title>
		<link>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2008/05/16/living-laughing-loving-together/</link>
		<comments>http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/2008/05/16/living-laughing-loving-together/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 16 May 2008 05:34:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mhartantyo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inklings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mianhartantyo.wordpress.com/?p=19</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Two are better than one, Because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=mianhartantyo.wordpress.com&amp;blog=3676591&amp;post=19&amp;subd=mianhartantyo&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/friends-collage1.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-20" src="http://mianhartantyo.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/friends-collage1.jpg?w=420&#038;h=315" alt="" width="420" height="315" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#ffcc99;">&#8220;Two are better than one,<br />
Because they have a good return for their work:<br />
If one falls down, his friend can help him up.<br />
But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!<br />
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.<br />
But how can one keep warm alone?<br />
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.<br />
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken&#8221;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ffcc99;">Ecclesiastes 4:9-12</span></p>
<p>Need I say more? <strong>All we need is love! </strong></p>
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