tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67701056654703407932024-02-02T14:23:12.058-08:00Life - Reflections on my journey...Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-18272075518077366122015-03-04T05:24:00.000-08:002015-03-04T05:24:27.497-08:00New Beginnings...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And suddenly you know:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's time to start something new & trust the magic of new beginnings. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">~ Meister Eckhart</span></div>
Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-66670689524693382932014-03-14T06:54:00.000-07:002014-03-14T06:55:09.247-07:00You ARE special...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made the attached for a friend of mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You should always tell someone how special they are to you. </span></div>
<br />Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-58576516391256414362014-02-28T02:42:00.002-08:002014-02-28T02:42:40.964-08:00How I try and live my life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjraGvpW0FArMl0280KsnBw_U3G3iL1E7PCkv34NSWNXCmDC3lCPK5zuNrjqPSHqH7BesvqPiX-nNxROmcbClhJ_cR6fIAIH7my7SesIqKJChSoBDhsxB7A183tqEOPK5WEso7HfXan-XD3/s1600/Love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjraGvpW0FArMl0280KsnBw_U3G3iL1E7PCkv34NSWNXCmDC3lCPK5zuNrjqPSHqH7BesvqPiX-nNxROmcbClhJ_cR6fIAIH7my7SesIqKJChSoBDhsxB7A183tqEOPK5WEso7HfXan-XD3/s1600/Love.jpg" height="400" width="293" /></a></div>
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<br />Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-45228240720088910672014-02-27T02:27:00.001-08:002014-02-27T02:27:44.926-08:00Dear Lord<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can really relate to this right now. When in doubt - speak to God.</span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-9086002130283133362014-02-25T07:19:00.002-08:002014-02-25T07:20:14.604-08:00Happy Endings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-78495084524934232912014-02-21T04:25:00.003-08:002014-02-21T04:26:06.403-08:00My Bella<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Isn't she beautiful?</span></div>
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<br />Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-8851449371826534142014-02-19T23:52:00.003-08:002014-02-19T23:53:23.148-08:00Race for Life - 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You may remember that in 2012 I raced for life for George Graham who was fighting against cancer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately Mr. Graham lost the fight late last year. This year I will be participating in Race for Life in his memory.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you'd like to join the fight against cancer please feel free to make a donation using the link below:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #544741; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><a href="http://www.justgiving.com/global-wind-service" target="_blank">SAY NO TO CANCER!</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mandi x</span></div>
Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-33943558608984090792014-02-19T23:46:00.002-08:002014-02-19T23:47:40.970-08:00Positivity Pledge <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGsBgX0rqBz_GqIj698Huhs6jSDAKvdBk4Xqw-iQP425PItQkgyEC-FcgruHQKtAc8Fj2p9Raizn-xD05Agd1_ALj4PQMbfli6jXjMtdLr58V_RoQVoJs9EkDPHtRtZxkeehrETLWBgTm/s1600/photo+(38).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGsBgX0rqBz_GqIj698Huhs6jSDAKvdBk4Xqw-iQP425PItQkgyEC-FcgruHQKtAc8Fj2p9Raizn-xD05Agd1_ALj4PQMbfli6jXjMtdLr58V_RoQVoJs9EkDPHtRtZxkeehrETLWBgTm/s1600/photo+(38).jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-35154522153059762012014-02-19T08:19:00.001-08:002014-02-19T08:19:22.471-08:00I'm back!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wow! It's been forever and a day since I last posted anything but I'm back and I will be making more of an effort to post things so............. watch this space! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mandi x</span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-6375842041678751662012-05-22T01:08:00.000-07:002012-05-22T01:08:59.202-07:00The Zimbabwe Mugabe didn't want you to see<div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Millions suffer poverty and malnutrition under Robert Mugabe's regime in Zimbabwe, while their leaders fly around the world in chartered planes for shopping trips. Photo / Robin Hammond" src="http://media.nzherald.co.nz/webcontent/image/jpg/201220/SCCZEN_180512HOSSPLROBIN1_460x230.jpg" title="Millions suffer poverty and malnutrition under Robert Mugabe's regime in Zimbabwe, while their leaders fly around the world in chartered planes for shopping trips. Photo / Robin Hammond" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While working undercover along the Zimbabwe border, Kiwi photojournalist <i>Robin Hammond</i> was arrested and taken into custody by Robert Mugabe's brutal henchmen. Released last week after 25 days in a lice-infested prison cell, he tells his own story for the first time.</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The muggy, impenetrable darkness of the African night offered me little solace as I was pushed into the tiny prison cell. The smell of human sweat was overpowering as I focused on a tangle of limbs on the concrete floor. The heavy door slammed behind me with a violent thud.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the iron bolt slid into place, the white eyes of three-dozen prisoners stared up at me. Finally, after almost a decade as a photojournalist, I understood their fear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was cut off from the world, a helpless prisoner in the bloodied hands of Robert Mugabe's brutal regime. Just how had I found myself in this position? Would I have been smarter to just have shaken Zimbabwe out of my system?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>ZIMBABWE IN</strong> 2012 is a largely forgotten corner of the world. Despite the presence of Mugabe as Africa's most suave and enduring bogeyman, international correspondents have long since decamped to Afghanistan and, in more recent times, the Arab Spring struggles for liberty at the other end of the African continent.</span><br />
<div class="advert" id="DivContentRect" style="position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div><div class="advert" style="position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet, as a journalist, I've never been able to let go of Zimbabwe. It just got under my skin.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I first visited Harare as a photojournalist in 2007. By the end of 2008, after four difficult assignments, the country's economic crisis and the arresting poverty and malnutrition had left me emotionally and physically wrung out. It was a situation without hope. The economy was imploding, impoverishing millions, while the leaders flew around the world in chartered planes for shopping trips.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hundreds of thousands had already left for South Africa. I even helped some of them escape. I understood exactly why they wanted to leave. I didn't want to be there either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2008, the year when Zimbabwe's opposition party, the MDC, won one election, their supporters were tortured and killed into withdrawing from the run-off. It was the year I covertly photographed a mobile clinic full of semi-conscious cholera victims, as Mugabe denied the disease's existence with a wave of a manicured hand. Children died because hospitals ran out of antibiotics.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't want to return, but Zimbabwe somehow draws you back. In 2009 I was one of the first journalists to enter the Marange diamond fields since the massacres of 2008. There I documented military syndicates mining diamonds in contravention of the Kimberley Process. It was one of the most dangerous journeys of my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Evidence gained from the trip was submitted to the United Nations as proof of slavery and violent atrocities being carried out by Mugabe's regime in the relentless pursuit of diamonds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That report effectively made me an enemy of the state and I withdrew again. But in November last year I was awarded the Carmignac Gestion Photojournalism Award to document Mugabe's shocking legacy for a book and photographic exhibitions in Europe. I told colleagues in London that this was my big chance to spend serious time in the country.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But with this amazing opportunity also came enormous responsibility and risk: responsibility to the Zimbabwean people whose stories needed to be told, and risk to myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To get the story I would have to travel further across and deeper into Zimbabwe than ever before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>IN ZIMBABWE</strong>, as a foreign photographer, there are no easy roads. Over the past five months I covered thousands of kilometres. To embark on the assignment I had first requested permission from the Zimbabwean authorities but, as I anticipated, was given no clearance. I would have to work below the radar.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With the aim of documenting those worst afflicted by Mugabe's tyrannical rule, I worked to a strict regime: early mornings were safest as there were fewer people around. The thugs who would seek to arrest me in the course of my work, would be hung over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For four months I worked to this format. Dodging the police, the Central Intelligence Organisation and informants. Trying to stay one step ahead of the machine. It was unsafe to return to some locations - once news was out that a white man with a camera had been seen, the security agents would come hunting. This meant time with interviewees was a luxury.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time is frequently the enemy of photography. Many people think you turn up, take a photograph then leave. It's not that easy. Often the best images come from hours of watching, waiting, moving around your subject hoping the elements will all slide into place in that one instant that communicates the story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">February was when I first ran out of time. I was seen by Mugabe's agents photographing a farm that had been looted by high-ranking politicians including the Governor of the region, Christopher Mushohwe. The farm once employed 5000 locals and exported vegetables to Britain, bringing in a reported US$15 million a year.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Land invasion and the eviction of white farmers made huge headlines around the world, but consider what has been left behind. That has rarely been reported.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Zimbabwe, where unemployment is now as high as 95 per cent, an employed individual may support as many as 10 extended family members. The loss of 5000 jobs can mean the impoverishment of 50,000 people. There is no government support to fall back on. The result can be devastating. Men enter into illegal and dangerous mining, girls are married off young, mothers forced into prostitution to feed their children. HIV increases, families starve, children stop going to school.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most of the farm had been covered in tall grass. It was the perfect metaphor for a failed state. It was also a familiar scene in this country, once dubbed "the bread basket of Southern Africa". I went to farms where enormous brick tobacco barns stood with trees growing through the middle. I walked through the skeletal remains of great greenhouses that once grew millions of roses for the florists of London and Paris.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But this farm was also under surveillance. I was exposed because I broke my own rules and made the mistake of photographing the farm in the afternoon. Four plainclothed men and a police officer with an AK47 approached me as I returned to my car. I was arrested.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thankfully, I was only held overnight but the experience left me shaken. Worse still, I got word from an associate that the police were looking for a white photographer who was seen at Mugabe's birthday the week before. Me. I had no option but to head for the border.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>IT WAS</strong> a terrifyingly close shave and I counted my blessings while sipping a cold beer in Zambia. But my assignment wasn't finished. I had intended to capture images of Zimbabweans crossing the border into South Africa. So I let the dust settle, then on April 15 I went back in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had promised my fiancee, Aude, that this trip would be my last. It would be a quick journey across the border..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once inside Zimbabwe, guided by a local fixer, I followed a group of border-jumpers into the no man's land that separates Zimbabwe and South Africa, across the Limpopo River. Our goal was to make it to the border fence, but we spotted a South African border patrol and had to make a run for it back to the Zimbabwe side.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On returning to the hotel that morning the police were waiting for me. I now believe the hotel staff had tipped them off. I was taken to Beitbridge police station, the closest to the border with South Africa.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was no ordinary situation. From the beginning of my arrest, the President's Office (policemen representing the President) were involved, their presence lurking in the background. It became clear that bribery in the early stages was not an option.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was put through interrogation in a tiny police cell at the station. Their plan was simple: to bully and terrify me into confessing to whatever charge they wanted me to admit. In my case they wanted me to confess to being a journalist, a spy or both.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My interrogator would usually stand, I would be told to sit on the floor. Sometimes he would hold a stick and tap it against his leg.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes as many as nine interrogators at a time would be shouting, trying to get me to admit that I was lying to them. I felt alone, powerless, at the mercy of my tormentors. They wouldn't let me call a lawyer or my family. One of the officers spat at me: "You will rot in jail."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I saw them beat many of the prisoners. Sometimes it would be a single slap, other times they would punch and kick. One young man was beaten in front of me with a broom stick until it broke on his back. I was lucky enough to escape their violence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite many hours of interrogation, every day for three days, I never admitted to being a photojournalist. I maintained that I had once been a photographer but that now, as stated on my immigration form, I was a teacher.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The police station did not have internet but some of the officers were able to get online on their phones. They had also gone over the border to South African Immigration who, they told me, were able to confirm I was a photojournalist working on human rights issues for British publications.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I WAS TOLD</strong> I was going to court. As I was taken before the judge in chains, I saw the police had printed an article from an internet site detailing my arrest in February that year. The article described me as an award-winning photojournalist.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was arrested the first time I also claimed to be a teacher. The article came out after that earlier conviction, based on a press release from a human rights charity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the time I complained bitterly to this organisation, telling them they put my work at risk and the life of my fixer who they had named.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was convicted of taking photos in a protected area. The police saw an image of the Limpopo River with Beit Bridge in the foreground on my camera. I had taken it while walking across the border on my way into Zimbabwe. The judge threw out the charge of breaching the Immigration Act by working, and I pleaded guilty to the lesser charge of taking photos in a protected area.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was sentenced to a US$150 ($198) fine or a 60-day prison sentence. I, of course, chose to pay the fine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With wrists and ankles shackled, standing in the dock, I found myself elated. Now I could go home to my fiancee in South Africa and to the new life in Paris we were planning ... but instead of releasing me I was taken to Beitbridge Prison.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the back of the court my fate had already been sealed by others with a sinister interest in my case.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unknown to me, immigration officials were also in the courtroom and had immediately issued a warrant for my detention pending deportation. They argued that a foreigner committing an illegal act in their country must be sent home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is no actual law that requires this, but given that the police did not secure the major conviction they had been aiming for this was the only way they could really punish me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To compound my punishment, Immigration insisted that I be deported to New Zealand and that I should be sent to Harare for that. "We are in no rush at all," they told my lawyer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>BY THE</strong> time I was taken to my cell, darkness had set in. The cell in which I spent most of my time was a 5m by 10m concrete-walled room. As I was pushed into the cell I saw a sea of limbs squirming in the faded light.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Crammed together like sardines, 38 men were sleeping side by side. Each was unable to even roll over without disturbing the inmate on either side. The smell of stale sweat and urine filled the air.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were given one blanket, two if we were lucky. Each afternoon, between lock-up and sundown, we would go through our precious blankets killing lice. I would fall asleep each night to a chorus of scratching.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was one non-flush toilet for the 250 prisoners, but no toilet paper or soap was provided. The guards were often drunk. They beat a few people, but the brutality was nothing like the police beatings. Some were friendly. Some were thugs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2008, prisoners had been starving to death in Beitbridge Prison. This may have been what led the officer in charge to tell us, in one of his grand weekly monologues, that we were "lucky to have food and water".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The food we were handed out was full of weevils. During a visit to the ration room I saw our food was in a bag labelled "animal feed".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My cell was for foreigners, juveniles, and the elderly: the misfits. Cephas, a Nigerian, was imprisoned for not having a visa to visit Zimbabwe. One man had lost his passport so was serving a 30-day sentence. Fourteen-year-old Bright was locked up for border-jumping. Lucky, 15, was arrested with his 81-year-old grandfather for stealing cattle. I felt a strange affinity with my fellow prisoners but I kept many at arms' length, fearing the police might try and use them to get information from me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I HAD LEGAL</strong> representation from the not-for-profit organisation Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human Rights.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Their meeting with Immigration did not go well. They were suspicious of my activities and especially of all the stamps in my passports. Immigration thought I may be a spy and they were looking to transfer me to Harare for further interrogation. I started to panic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The lawyers left and I started to devise a plan of defence. I would have to continue with the line that I used to be a photographer, hence all the stamps in my passport and all the information online saying I was a photojournalist, but for the past two years I'd been teaching photography, which was why I wrote "teacher" on my immigration form.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My partner, Aude, had designed my photography website. The next day I managed to sneak out a message through a visiting friend telling her what to do. By the following day, my website was describing me as photography teacher offering portfolio reviews and assistance to those who want to "move to the next level in photography" and "reach their image-making goals".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My lawyers had to get back to the capital Harare, 580km to the north. From there they would continue to talk to Immigration and push them to move forward with my deportation. Immigration started blaming the delay in my deportation on the prison service, saying they had transport problems. I took this as a good sign. If the police wanted to investigate me in Harare they could send me up there in a police car.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Prison life was painstaking. I managed to get a magazine into the prison and read it cover to cover. The only other reading material there was the Bible. My magazine quickly did the rounds of those who could read.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made a schedule to keep fit and occupied. I started a push-up competition in my cell. There wasn't a prize, it was just an ego contest. Soon it spread to other cells. I was invited to compete against others. I walked as much as I could: I worked out that 35 laps of the courtyard was 1km. Everyday I would try and do 5km. It was hard because the place was packed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some of the inmates played chess, some draughts. I finally got some books delivered, which kept me sane. There weren't any lights in the cells in Beitbridge. We were locked up at 4pm and it was dark by 6pm. The sun would come up again around 6am. The nights were painfully long.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would force myself to stay awake as long as I could, but always ended with hours in the morning staring at the barred window high in the eastern wall, waiting for the sky to lighten. Time was measured by meals. Many times I thought my release was just around the corner, only to be locked back in my cell at night. To hope is to torture yourself. I became resigned to a long fight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After over two weeks in Beitbridge Prison I was transferred to Harare Remand Prison. We were woken at 5am one day and 12 prisoners, with two guards, were shoved in the back of the ute. Each of us was handcuffed to another prisoner. It was tight. The following 10 hours over bumpy roads was sheer torture.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some people are scared of flying. I'm scared of driving. Not a common phobia but in Africa - in the type of cars, on the roads I travel on, with the drivers I encounter - I don't think it is irrational. If I die on assignment, I'm convinced it won't be by the gun of a child soldier or the bomb of a terrorist, but on an African road when a tyre bursts or brakes fail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the back of my mind, though, was dread. For me this journey was either a disaster because it meant I was to be interrogated by the dreaded Central Intelligence Office, or I was one step closer to deportation. I was in the dark.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the end it took one week. I had a lawyer running between the prison and Immigration making arrangements, and a dear friend running between the supermarket and Harare prison with wonderful food rations: canned peaches have never tasted so good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the day of my release, the immigration officials accompanied me to the airport. I went to the toilet and stared wide-eyed at the grey beard I had grown. I looked like my father when we were both a lot younger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was still tense all the way to the plane, even when I sat down in my allocated seat after the immigration official had handed my passport over to the airline crew. I was still waiting to be called back. To be interrogated and trapped in a cycle of hope and misery from which I could never escape. But the plane started rolling forward, faster and faster. I still dared not believe that I would be leaving. But then it happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We left the tarmac and a weight around my entire body dropped away with the ground. I started to float. I closed my eyes and raised both my arms in the air. I was free.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>NOW I SIT</strong> in Paris, looking out at the busy streets, and I feel nothing but blessed for my experiences travelling the world as a photojournalist.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel blessed by the good and bad, the rough and smooth on the road, because it brings everything I have - my liberty, my family, a career I feel passionate about - into perspective.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Little white plasters are attached to each of my forearms. My fiancee is worried about what I brought back with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The clothes I wore in prison had to be thrown away. No amount of washing could get rid of the lice eggs. My camera, remarkably, still holds the photos from my river and border crossing. I can't quite bring myself to go through them yet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am now banned from ever returning to Zimbabwe. I sit and I think of all the people I've met and all the suffering I've witnessed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think of all those I've left behind, detained in the same cells. And I think of all those trapped in a country that has for many become a prison.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A country disposed of choice, of liberty, of hope.</span><br />
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<span class="credits"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By Robin Hammond </span></span><br />
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<span class="credits"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Taken from The Zimbabwe Situation)</span></span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-66207968664922427662012-05-11T00:51:00.000-07:002012-05-11T00:51:03.978-07:00Race for Life - 2012<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zil-h6CuPAtBOqtt_vAr_hGDtv3ZyvNIUJQ33Wj0ctQ5-j8R5jk25Gi_8fdP1ioVYoSjkxDTpw42ULCB6pKKFqlCYaukb0qvapvzhi5Zr51142Sb58ZdGwGeaw6AE6j4kyhuApVmTszX/s1600/Race_for_Life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zil-h6CuPAtBOqtt_vAr_hGDtv3ZyvNIUJQ33Wj0ctQ5-j8R5jk25Gi_8fdP1ioVYoSjkxDTpw42ULCB6pKKFqlCYaukb0qvapvzhi5Zr51142Sb58ZdGwGeaw6AE6j4kyhuApVmTszX/s1600/Race_for_Life.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am totally blown away by everyone who has sponsored me to do Race for Life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have raised an amazing £600.00 for Cancer Research and this money will go towards fighting cancer and saving lives.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">On a more personal level this is a big challenge for me. A year ago I wouldn't of even considered it but, with the encouragement from my friends Kelly and Bernie, I am about to step outside of my comfort zone and face my fears.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">A big thank you to everyone who sponsored me. I don't even have the words to tell you how much you mean to me and how blessed I have to have you in my life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Thank you from the bottom of my heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Mandi xxx</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/mandiprevedello"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My just giving page</span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Words of encouragement from my sponsors:</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> </strong></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good luck Mandi from all at Billy’s Taxi’s. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Billy.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Hi Mandi, hopefully you will reach the goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Steffen Hansen</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Best of luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go Mandi go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Nigel Lavender</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Hey Mandi </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> Good luck with the race. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Rene Hansen.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Go for it Mandi – you have my utmost admiration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Wendy Woodward</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well done Mandi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Best of luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Marcus Wilkinson.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Good luck Mandi, lots of love and positive vibes coming your way. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> x ~ Emma Mason</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good for you, go for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Cheri Crosley</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You shake it baby – good luck xx <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Stuart Graham</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good luck Mandi – Ann and I will cheer you on. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Alan Ashworth</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good on you Mandi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More power to ya xx <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Dave Egan</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Good luck Mandi </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Mary Hammond</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good luck Mandz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love and miss you loads xx <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Angela Law</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Good luck Mandi, you go girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Joanne Jacobsen</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can do it Mandi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>SO proud of you xx<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Kelly Palmer-George</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hi Mandi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I highly appreciate your effort on this subject and I will encourage all others to make a contribution to support this. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Joergen Rahbek Christensen.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well done Mandi for supporting such a great cause. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Diane Pink</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Good luck Mandi, although you won’t need it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll be the first to the finish line. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> xx ~ Jan Nicol</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good luck and well done for supporting such a good cause. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll be thinking of you on the day xx <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Claudia Aldridge</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Keep on running in those booooooooooooooots!! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Joe Shea</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good luck and go girl… those boots are made for walking and for such a worth cause xx<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Sheila Kay</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mandi – you have blown me away today. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you and good luck x<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~ Stuart Graham.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="color: black;"></span></span></div>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-1816100436769676442012-04-05T04:51:00.003-07:002012-04-05T04:56:55.856-07:00Cry Havoc<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4IIju-2i9qVTWh4MfnRWjC0pR5tjEUFCpjVOBPkwRuGTq4JODPwBaYfv8y0VUBBhT4e6pwi1n8QmTf4ZfPp7aIKwbVp-f6EZMqmtiM0GqWrBR0lXWQYdrQjeSkteUXqqidtphDnk5Hzh/s1600/51KIdexdftL__SL500_AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4IIju-2i9qVTWh4MfnRWjC0pR5tjEUFCpjVOBPkwRuGTq4JODPwBaYfv8y0VUBBhT4e6pwi1n8QmTf4ZfPp7aIKwbVp-f6EZMqmtiM0GqWrBR0lXWQYdrQjeSkteUXqqidtphDnk5Hzh/s400/51KIdexdftL__SL500_AA300_.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon Mann's book</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><strong>“69 Mercenaries arrested at <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Harare</placename> <placename w:st="on">International</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Airport</placetype></place>” </strong></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I remember reading the headline 11 days before I left <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Zimbabwe</place></country-region>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt really sorry for them. Having been released from Harare Central Prison just 4 months earlier I knew what awaited them and I wouldn’t have wished it on my worst enemy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I followed the story from the <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">UK</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Simon Mann was sentenced to 7 years in Chikurubi Maximum Security Prison. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After 4 years he was extradited to <place w:st="on"><country-region w:st="on">Equatorial Guinea</country-region></place> where he was sentenced to a further 34 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After just 1.5 years at Black Beach Prison he was given a complete pardon by President Teodoro Obiang Ngueme. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I have this morbid fascination about Zimbabwean prisons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it all started in my early teens when my Aunt’s boss was sent to Remand Prison. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stories she used to tell me left me gob smacked and so it began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little did I know that I’d get to experience life in a Zimbabwean Prison first hand but that is another story all together.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvbARleaEK4IiIuTIVcXbbXX_bSwzth8o5q_OrM1uGjiwnQovmHHcOAuG9WUZ8qvQZ9fthY2FRFxZYZF2-u0ZvqDup5cmsYp75oh4uU8tcFPZDNMldvMkuoxhNWFYIKH3WqGCyPQorpOz/s1600/simon-mann-hellonearth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvbARleaEK4IiIuTIVcXbbXX_bSwzth8o5q_OrM1uGjiwnQovmHHcOAuG9WUZ8qvQZ9fthY2FRFxZYZF2-u0ZvqDup5cmsYp75oh4uU8tcFPZDNMldvMkuoxhNWFYIKH3WqGCyPQorpOz/s400/simon-mann-hellonearth.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chikurubi Maximum Security Prison</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div> <span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I was really excited to see he’d written a book about his experiences. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed to get hold of a copy and read it within a day. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any pity I once had for Simon Mann turned to disbelief and disgust. </span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">He moans about being in prison. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He moans about being beaten up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He moans about his Lawyer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He moans </span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">about the people who hired him to stage the coup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Prison life in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Zimbabwe</place></country-region> is hard. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you are sentenced to anything more than 5 years the chances of you getting out alive are pretty slim. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a time when they allowed relatives to bring food parcels in but that has long since been stopped. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no electricity or running water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is just part of every day Zimbabwean life, never mind prison life. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVl8UsOifxtiuJBbNRoTqF4rDV-OpI8c41Hhw93EuYmFYbReyYGjCrYDAO7s7JNNInyxcO8_jlsq0fyQnVKCbDo4y3PqjCGIJjW8CouHua5F6XYOBxy99LvBp_ltJw1NswJ1trGq-E8QJJ/s1600/mann460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVl8UsOifxtiuJBbNRoTqF4rDV-OpI8c41Hhw93EuYmFYbReyYGjCrYDAO7s7JNNInyxcO8_jlsq0fyQnVKCbDo4y3PqjCGIJjW8CouHua5F6XYOBxy99LvBp_ltJw1NswJ1trGq-E8QJJ/s400/mann460.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Zim CIO aren’t the brightest tools in the box but they are well known for being ruthless. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is lucky he was only beaten up and not tortured, raped or even killed.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">His lawyer is well known and is one of the best in Zim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For 4 years his lawyer visited him once a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>3 times a week (for 4 years) his lawyer sent him food and cigarettes to use as payment for protection etc.. yet he calls his lawyer the “croc” and moans about having to pay him.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">He expected the people who hired him to stage the coup to come up with some sort of escape plan to get him out of prison and was really angry when they didn’t and even more angry when they denied all knowledge of it.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">When he was extradited to EG he was treated like some sort of celebrity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the others lived in shackles and had no food or medicine he was given a treadmill, hotel food once a day and had two hernia operations. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">It is rumored that he paid half a million pounds to get out of Black Beach Prison. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where that money came from we will never know but I certainly don't feel any pity for him.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKii5j6uzLWdTIlwRPWFHXSybqvhogWFhJcDWoT-Ykl1tXtcf6EFnzxIOnuw8PlwFl3nGf82VfTbk9RA03XEZSpPW4fcM5NUCYHkElVuUEPziEgZJdjdLr_s_AcofJvVNAYyf2zFDkodLy/s1600/2009-11-03-simon-mann-618-408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKii5j6uzLWdTIlwRPWFHXSybqvhogWFhJcDWoT-Ykl1tXtcf6EFnzxIOnuw8PlwFl3nGf82VfTbk9RA03XEZSpPW4fcM5NUCYHkElVuUEPziEgZJdjdLr_s_AcofJvVNAYyf2zFDkodLy/s400/2009-11-03-simon-mann-618-408.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Black Beach Prison, EG</td></tr>
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</div>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-15823666636277899402011-08-22T13:37:00.000-07:002011-08-22T13:37:06.108-07:00My beautiful God Daughter, Connie.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8ia8HhJpV7jD8ANiZqoZY0B4wpwXj8tciUh2jkO2r-qMGRWdxxaMO93tiBtukronzbZLFn7s-kaiSaHzWKsctCh5JljFJPlFGqeRPZdYhsruPW0tgsOXfnA1AE4xRnk02zdXB-vMinQD/s1600/248681_10150319163153084_513923083_9654466_2413314_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8ia8HhJpV7jD8ANiZqoZY0B4wpwXj8tciUh2jkO2r-qMGRWdxxaMO93tiBtukronzbZLFn7s-kaiSaHzWKsctCh5JljFJPlFGqeRPZdYhsruPW0tgsOXfnA1AE4xRnk02zdXB-vMinQD/s400/248681_10150319163153084_513923083_9654466_2413314_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this pic. So sweet.</td></tr>
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</div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I couldn't believe it when my friends, Kelly and Darren, asked me to be the God Mother to their beautiful daughter Connie. She is the sweetest little girl ever and I feel so honoured and privilaged that they asked me.</span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhA0JYAGaC3jd8KIu_qKIgQBCq7K4cVrv1baclhKkct3MybF0ZxaDgaC0a9nf2aZSbILc_7C-dUvJSA55NwbJg2FkWpgbEV6qDPwH86j2ulGsswYaog6mkIyzK2nfpRDq1CE37bhyQwOW3/s1600/40735_10150104258938084_513923083_7375091_8100274_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhA0JYAGaC3jd8KIu_qKIgQBCq7K4cVrv1baclhKkct3MybF0ZxaDgaC0a9nf2aZSbILc_7C-dUvJSA55NwbJg2FkWpgbEV6qDPwH86j2ulGsswYaog6mkIyzK2nfpRDq1CE37bhyQwOW3/s400/40735_10150104258938084_513923083_7375091_8100274_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And so it begins...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPQPk9kmdn8XBiXE22E6APrwwXBpQtiEH6kbvaxHCBuiZLgz68HkrTX0JsnFLnAO3etuFoFtLfbzAT7vxqTThoISVFPhycB0Fz8eAtkP6MMgVXCPa5mpDQVkPPoJS7V4uvN22IRIMr1I9/s1600/Picture+022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPQPk9kmdn8XBiXE22E6APrwwXBpQtiEH6kbvaxHCBuiZLgz68HkrTX0JsnFLnAO3etuFoFtLfbzAT7vxqTThoISVFPhycB0Fz8eAtkP6MMgVXCPa5mpDQVkPPoJS7V4uvN22IRIMr1I9/s400/Picture+022.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelly with Connie (fast asleep)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zeRySp6FsyIsYdjvMu-KP11X7zvCR2sqxx6IIiIqAXzIQ9SaXSi_hsh2VZywbtvM_J619GC2VU2kQiSzyfWu8WlvEgWYSTp47aUSMSJkJCjicLSzMkj6C29IHtLPwp1BBGQ9nQUgv1D5/s1600/Picture+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zeRySp6FsyIsYdjvMu-KP11X7zvCR2sqxx6IIiIqAXzIQ9SaXSi_hsh2VZywbtvM_J619GC2VU2kQiSzyfWu8WlvEgWYSTp47aUSMSJkJCjicLSzMkj6C29IHtLPwp1BBGQ9nQUgv1D5/s400/Picture+023.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darren</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmP-1e3XWzA8eR9fKHvIb6g7sYArsotSMmiqB5HDRCaS9Lrhxri2lxoVU2t-ObhfrKTDAfVKmr29eP008eUE_A0iiB4VN0Vwtk9ppvj-8B-1cWC2Z3cYGmoTQcShQtycCN2lurfoeMg15e/s1600/Picture+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmP-1e3XWzA8eR9fKHvIb6g7sYArsotSMmiqB5HDRCaS9Lrhxri2lxoVU2t-ObhfrKTDAfVKmr29eP008eUE_A0iiB4VN0Vwtk9ppvj-8B-1cWC2Z3cYGmoTQcShQtycCN2lurfoeMg15e/s400/Picture+027.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this pic - Kelly, Darren and Connie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1tvJkstVrNaHS4_s_YCFo-N2Y3zZ75Xp2nyxmPoqiu807aVia-3zi_Cq_WHqFVo6X2X4y18Mz2t_8g9tE45WFayGFwmdFpuQh5rhyphenhyphenoYboeQVtnKa2s481s0jniaIuH-auLtWODMwKh4P/s1600/68281_10150135680983084_513923083_7852415_4632669_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1tvJkstVrNaHS4_s_YCFo-N2Y3zZ75Xp2nyxmPoqiu807aVia-3zi_Cq_WHqFVo6X2X4y18Mz2t_8g9tE45WFayGFwmdFpuQh5rhyphenhyphenoYboeQVtnKa2s481s0jniaIuH-auLtWODMwKh4P/s400/68281_10150135680983084_513923083_7852415_4632669_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Connie - baking</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpR8M7100dt1ad_qs0XGCK6vD5xpDyvx2rUHU59JQLyiSirbQbDLJchLTmlsshuBWAZmVbHMVtcaPF9YbhBJkKrLCgD0koTaiizgQFe-ur3khiyTlZp9odglZEMp8A4Ej9zi9Jzo9rTjdf/s1600/155766_10150120829618084_513923083_7629476_1613496_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpR8M7100dt1ad_qs0XGCK6vD5xpDyvx2rUHU59JQLyiSirbQbDLJchLTmlsshuBWAZmVbHMVtcaPF9YbhBJkKrLCgD0koTaiizgQFe-ur3khiyTlZp9odglZEMp8A4Ej9zi9Jzo9rTjdf/s400/155766_10150120829618084_513923083_7629476_1613496_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">:-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJCIGx_7XEklKwLkX_a7w1E8wC37Sv-cLzQr0rX5SnG6zD1t09q-bIGPrBK9c4DE7Bv-nHc0Eest8A61Fksmr2ZiAfrjRzxAsIxBGtBQknXzE3mjZmxuTnGypJGHwdzMRgKjsxXE7Y4qm/s1600/196615_10150198927053084_513923083_8745057_6296177_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJCIGx_7XEklKwLkX_a7w1E8wC37Sv-cLzQr0rX5SnG6zD1t09q-bIGPrBK9c4DE7Bv-nHc0Eest8A61Fksmr2ZiAfrjRzxAsIxBGtBQknXzE3mjZmxuTnGypJGHwdzMRgKjsxXE7Y4qm/s400/196615_10150198927053084_513923083_8745057_6296177_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grow Connie grow</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqMXdYb08ir0ho7J7dw6Nl_n3dEdIFuAfWZqacm-iJxqeF9emvS6M-olUoLc1an3DX6ZCC-px6JPkHvzj9RQW8xMaYbyo_GVynsJtvU1uDzN3taEOWa04Iyvrk1T2zAraxXZDyaMTTtsV/s1600/247051_10150319165258084_513923083_9654477_5678664_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqMXdYb08ir0ho7J7dw6Nl_n3dEdIFuAfWZqacm-iJxqeF9emvS6M-olUoLc1an3DX6ZCC-px6JPkHvzj9RQW8xMaYbyo_GVynsJtvU1uDzN3taEOWa04Iyvrk1T2zAraxXZDyaMTTtsV/s400/247051_10150319165258084_513923083_9654477_5678664_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So beautiful</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWOXW0CbQTasGN8J-MJxCYW9vBPcqO-LOKDjIkildhKMTPTL68G4eeasO6UraUsxzyKqgxwVTOmYC-2GIi2mpVkFuNEyEGvDp4GRhDdXYQbQ9yfMFhGasszcSSvCSM4d3KiHrJ67l1kE7/s1600/251339_10150308684698084_513923083_9536086_8258936_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWOXW0CbQTasGN8J-MJxCYW9vBPcqO-LOKDjIkildhKMTPTL68G4eeasO6UraUsxzyKqgxwVTOmYC-2GIi2mpVkFuNEyEGvDp4GRhDdXYQbQ9yfMFhGasszcSSvCSM4d3KiHrJ67l1kE7/s400/251339_10150308684698084_513923083_9536086_8258936_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brand spanking new</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZE4pbxVhjq6FI-v_ENy2do_-VUm0e_QRJiSKpJNSoI3_Hz5RWnmjbQ9GFFFphTmtROYJQTNcibThNK-YK1RUgQ0pztmGtfzA2Z-Uy301806sjxPTkTo96-LeB-X5lx6N0ecUcgIlYDZG/s1600/253566_10150319160438084_513923083_9654449_1005696_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZE4pbxVhjq6FI-v_ENy2do_-VUm0e_QRJiSKpJNSoI3_Hz5RWnmjbQ9GFFFphTmtROYJQTNcibThNK-YK1RUgQ0pztmGtfzA2Z-Uy301806sjxPTkTo96-LeB-X5lx6N0ecUcgIlYDZG/s400/253566_10150319160438084_513923083_9654449_1005696_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Connie with her big sister Keira - Mai</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-5352065777514701502011-08-21T12:59:00.000-07:002011-08-21T12:59:52.860-07:00You Can Heal Your Life - Louise L Hay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNu4OyQdV9WlsmZ2qwi1jbKZhCwTykjNX_rRJpPQaNpXFFMzm69s0CxWHrDOloAyPnYRKwqlSx5wyoTbUMgUElrS1XujNw-WN7sQb6dLsYXtleWlJjkg8qdj7kdFTZ9C-8GwsnEYksEDYa/s1600/36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNu4OyQdV9WlsmZ2qwi1jbKZhCwTykjNX_rRJpPQaNpXFFMzm69s0CxWHrDOloAyPnYRKwqlSx5wyoTbUMgUElrS1XujNw-WN7sQb6dLsYXtleWlJjkg8qdj7kdFTZ9C-8GwsnEYksEDYa/s400/36.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This book has helped me through some pretty tough times and, although I have read it like a million times, I still carry a copy of it in my hand bag. I refer to it every day as I continue my journey with Louise L Hay. :-)</span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-34434878266304076102011-07-25T11:33:00.000-07:002011-07-25T11:33:51.107-07:00Paige Elsie Teresa Robertson - RIP<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXqNtARpgDh3if5KBOitCzVK2GJuls6c0rNiau2vM0cP6eQlfHao5SRq15P7v8opujlCMcBWMIuTF-EyDu8p6otlG3NOWnRF2E7QYbyPny5mmPFR_CgVwvwzUClRJc3ec8veOxdu2WNhu/s1600/73802_498150557243_643297243_7031396_3896466_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXqNtARpgDh3if5KBOitCzVK2GJuls6c0rNiau2vM0cP6eQlfHao5SRq15P7v8opujlCMcBWMIuTF-EyDu8p6otlG3NOWnRF2E7QYbyPny5mmPFR_CgVwvwzUClRJc3ec8veOxdu2WNhu/s400/73802_498150557243_643297243_7031396_3896466_n.jpg" t$="true" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra with Paige</td></tr>
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</div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Little Angels</span></span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When God calls little children to dwell with Him above<br />
We mortals sometime question the wisdom of His love.<br />
For no heartache compares with, the death of one small child<br />
Who does so much to make our world, seem wonderful and mild.<br />
Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to his fold.<br />
So He picks a rosebud before it can grow old.<br />
God knows how much we need them, and so He takes but few<br />
To make the <place w:st="on"><placetype w:st="on">land</placetype> of <placename w:st="on">Heaven</placename></place> more beautiful to view.<br />
Believing this is difficult, still somehow we must try.<br />
The saddest word mankind knows will always be "Goodbye"<br />
So when a little child departs, we who are left behind,<br />
Must realize God loves children<br />
"Angels are hard to find".</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-50881816600779035812011-07-21T11:20:00.000-07:002011-07-21T11:20:56.782-07:00Dedicated to Marianna<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8LrDnWc4UNI?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-11181064705747923402011-06-28T13:56:00.000-07:002011-06-28T13:56:58.486-07:00Planted by the Angels...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Gs0Vy0mhyG6d_NUjiS3KyE3JwXt6hdS4LCSs69brMgIwnXjVgPeBLxZom1zKM1bqhQ68sZk51_spVZHEyQ_cQcBJj_AxImeeXJaMcKsRzTdn82BdmvFb2LAXXX-aVoNEDqpb50PeSJsO/s1600/heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Gs0Vy0mhyG6d_NUjiS3KyE3JwXt6hdS4LCSs69brMgIwnXjVgPeBLxZom1zKM1bqhQ68sZk51_spVZHEyQ_cQcBJj_AxImeeXJaMcKsRzTdn82BdmvFb2LAXXX-aVoNEDqpb50PeSJsO/s320/heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My son, who is 16, finished high school recently. It was quite an emotional time for me and my ex husband, who is also one of my closest friends, posted this on my Facebook wall:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Just want YOU to know that I am very proud of you for everything you have done and all that you do. As I always say, you inspire me to push as hard as I can to do what I can to be there for you. Always remember that tears are to water the seeds that are planted by the angels when other things are removed and holes are created - without the tears, the new seeds would never grow. Love you lots and $50!"</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I thought it was really sweet and just wanted to share it with you...</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Love always,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Mandi x</span></span></div><br />
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<div align="left"></div>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-85437035474305237292011-06-10T13:31:00.000-07:002011-06-10T13:33:02.945-07:00Our Zimbabwe - Henry Olonga<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oXY6nsDP4i0?fs=1" width="425"></iframe><br />
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This is a song by a Famous Zimbabwean Cricketer, Henry O longa. I love it.. :)Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-37623687261183163632011-06-09T12:42:00.000-07:002011-06-09T12:42:12.618-07:00My Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3e41mHWGurJ6JLMemwW2Iw8YlK5Xcoh5P3SVrGDO-Iwi2HWItK2hgKD3WKMt4FBrEyKbUJRnVA4dRLra-7dT3Q0V5EqOR8mIyULbLiyrKhg8lyyc_F2aTzJdlWax0nB_oION8Hk6eNgZP/s1600/Mothers-Day-Card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3e41mHWGurJ6JLMemwW2Iw8YlK5Xcoh5P3SVrGDO-Iwi2HWItK2hgKD3WKMt4FBrEyKbUJRnVA4dRLra-7dT3Q0V5EqOR8mIyULbLiyrKhg8lyyc_F2aTzJdlWax0nB_oION8Hk6eNgZP/s320/Mothers-Day-Card.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I celebrated my birthday recently and my Mom sent me a card. I was really touched by the words and wanted to share them with you....</strong></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">All the love in the world wouldn't be enough for you,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">You're just so special, so wonderful and a perfect daughter too.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">And your birthday is a day to smile</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">and feel completely blessed,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">For nothing means as much as </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">seeing you full of happiness.</span></div>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-79853608496770517582011-06-09T12:35:00.000-07:002011-06-09T12:35:33.778-07:00I Can Do It - 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbdFuiloFnmSG6EtDRnS8cowEDrxYVJCjO9GZRnzq_gkPhpedqPooRWfyyDVO_IK7p25PfpOlxh5q9kXsx-VFJOlp6Jcw2Ahxd5rld3sUa0TgatkntmxDE7av4hiE5yYMuJDF0kIrDPLF/s320/6314%2540eventinfo.gif" t8="true" width="252" /></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I am really hoping to go to "I Can Do It 2011" in London. I have wanted to go for a couple of years now but haven't been able to afford it. One of my greatest wishes is to meet my mentor - Louise L Hay. Fingers crossed I meet her this year. :-)</strong></span><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I CAN DO IT! London 2011</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Weekend Event: Friday 23rd– Sunday 25th September 2011</span></strong><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Featuring:</span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Louise Hay, Thomas Moore, Marianne Williamson, Caroline Myss, Cheryl Richardson, Gregg Braden, Bruce Lipton, Michael Neill, , Ali Campbell, Lynne McTaggart, Vianna Stibal, Karl Dawson & Sasha Allenby. </span></em><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Join us for the ultimate mind body spirit event featuring 13 of the world’s foremost inspirational authors and speakers! </span></strong><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heal Your Life* Revitalise your Mind, Body and Spirit* Create Happiness*</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Louise Hay, founder of Hay House Publishers, and author of You Can Heal Your Life, established the first I Can Do It! event in the US five years ago as a forum for kindred spirits to gather, heal themselves and each other, and meet leading mind body spirit teachers. I Can Do It! is the type of event that will revitalize your soul, recharge your body and bring a sparkle back into your life. The event will be introduced by Louise Hay personally and Cheryl Richardson and Louise Hay will also give the closing keynote presentation. Inspirational lectures and workshops by bestselling authors Marianne Williamson, Caroline Myss, Gregg Braden, Bruce Lipton and others will give you the chance to work personally with mind body spirit speakers from around the world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Join us and be inspired!</span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***COMPLIMENTARY FILM SCREENING***</span></span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Exclusive I Can Do It! Special Event – Film Premiere</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There will be a complimentary film screening during the lunch break from 1.15pm - 2.45pm on Sunday 25th September. This will be an open screening and you are free to come and go and watch the film while eating your lunch. The film title will be revealed on the Hay House website in September. Until then it’s a surprise...</span><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Grand Hall, <br />
The Grand Connnaught Rooms, <br />
61–65 Great Queen Street, <br />
London WC2B 5DA</span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-88448175796142643042011-06-05T11:49:00.000-07:002011-06-05T11:51:35.368-07:00"Thankful"- Josh Groban<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/p2M0GQOgYGg?fs=1" width="425"></iframe><br />
<br />
Listen to the words of this song.. Very powerful stuff.<br />
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M xMandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-49786166907646068972011-05-21T08:36:00.000-07:002011-05-21T08:37:23.216-07:00Footprints<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYupDWUs_j4kZOw9gIf1FPr5hBbmaD_qGKLZxZ1GzoXVbIvUNMIDLyZgapnVj78CG_F1lXN0dBi5OlRgOJ8tlNP1RGAp7fXs46Of8rchHUA3XMFmtc0DV2x9HI4HlOrHM1CijvlmbFZE7J/s1600/FootprintsInTheSand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: small;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYupDWUs_j4kZOw9gIf1FPr5hBbmaD_qGKLZxZ1GzoXVbIvUNMIDLyZgapnVj78CG_F1lXN0dBi5OlRgOJ8tlNP1RGAp7fXs46Of8rchHUA3XMFmtc0DV2x9HI4HlOrHM1CijvlmbFZE7J/s400/FootprintsInTheSand.jpg" width="400" /></span></strong></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><h4 style="text-align: center;"><b>One night I had a dream--</b></h4><h4 style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord <br />
and across the sky flashed scenes from my life. <br />
For each scene I noticed two sets of footprints, <br />
one belonged to me and the other to the Lord. <br />
When the last scene of my life flashed before me,<br />
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.<br />
I noticed that many times along the path of my life,<br />
there was only one set of footprints.<br />
I also noticed that it happened at the very lowest<br />
and saddest times in my life. <br />
This really bothered me and I questioned the Lord about it. <br />
"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you,<br />
you would walk with me all the way,<br />
but I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life<br />
there is only one set of footprints. <br />
"I don't understand why in times when I needed you most,<br />
you should leave me." <br />
The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child,<br />
I love you and I would never, never leave you<br />
during your times of trial and suffering. <br />
"When you saw only one set of footprints,<br />
it was then that I carried you."<br />
<br />
...Mary Stevenson</b></h4>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-22077405416794026852011-05-15T08:01:00.001-07:002011-05-21T08:38:18.778-07:00My Apologies<div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqJ6xouKYYO6WWtUvLPe5_L-zc2omTXBRhTIvHl8pD9DPjOAG9NZ8PZ1RrlXBrvPe8vxgInugPuaXqPK55WEWcCVJtAbl87C6FYFBaBAEg8S1EShg94AiQy9dE0AnGPKTtwqCLN2aAofd/s320/My%20Uploaded%20Photos.jpg" style="height: 300px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 400px;" width="320" /></div><br />
My apologies for not blogging in ages.. The last couple of months have been a challenge for me but I'm back and I'm ready to rock and roll. <br />
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Love <br />
<br />
Mandi xMandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-63003158442538883892011-04-04T13:09:00.000-07:002011-04-04T13:09:03.037-07:00It hurts..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHaKfXxS4ZLcUEmWeJgewY0LTVBhu65yyVfSyVW8aE7va1FSRKOGataoHMQUT5xui30v9lsd-dIMCfG2q_ygpWU5CKGHXXQ62Uldg3jxeTp-II958qY6gzen7oGRtIFI8FYhulkSiZKqb/s1600/who-cares-when-i-hurt-wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHaKfXxS4ZLcUEmWeJgewY0LTVBhu65yyVfSyVW8aE7va1FSRKOGataoHMQUT5xui30v9lsd-dIMCfG2q_ygpWU5CKGHXXQ62Uldg3jxeTp-II958qY6gzen7oGRtIFI8FYhulkSiZKqb/s400/who-cares-when-i-hurt-wallpaper.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recently lost 3 of my friends and I am finding it really hard to deal with. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been told to pick myself up and move on but it just hurts so much. I'm extremely cautious about letting people into my life because I have been hurt badly in the past. It takes me a while to trust people and when I do let them in it's kind of a big deal for me. These 3 people were very special to me so I can't just move on and pretend that I don't care.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Some awful things were said to me which have left me hurt, confused and full of self doubt. Hurt because I would never dream of saying such things to anyone. Confused because I don't even know what it is I am supposed to have said and / or done in one case. Self doubt because I must, as was said, be a terrible person / friend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I know that I am not perfect but I have tried my best to show my friends how much they mean to me. I write blog posts about them, make them things, buy them little chocolates when I see them...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I am not sure what to do or how to get through this but I can feel the darkness coming and I am scared.</span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770105665470340793.post-2134790390106084602011-03-28T01:05:00.000-07:002011-03-28T01:11:48.246-07:00Everything Happens For A Reason<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBF8QOYPTmt-N5fFwKzPklOF_nwajPprsbL3mu-5qwtINC3iDydafgIPEg2lhb914VtldEFkOOuP4BhSCBoEJKPWi5o4V6cK0aehwiLC9XSJYu8b2e9Cym-2kWh7tSenL8hMN6rumm8Po/s1600/2086304761_001d409344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBF8QOYPTmt-N5fFwKzPklOF_nwajPprsbL3mu-5qwtINC3iDydafgIPEg2lhb914VtldEFkOOuP4BhSCBoEJKPWi5o4V6cK0aehwiLC9XSJYu8b2e9Cym-2kWh7tSenL8hMN6rumm8Po/s400/2086304761_001d409344.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there…to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson or help figure out who you are or who you want to become. You never know who these people may be but you lock eyes with them, you know that very moment that they will affect your life in some profound way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes things happen to you and, at the time, it may seem horrible, painful and unfair but in reflection you realize that without overcoming those obstacles you would never realize your potential, strength, will power or heart. Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by means of luck, illness or love. Lost moments of true greatnes and sheet stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. Without these small tests life would be like a smoothly paved straight and flat road to no where - safe and dull but utterly pointless. The people you meet affect your life. The successes and downfalls that you experience help create whom you are and the bad experiences should be learned from. In fact, they are probably the most important. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If someone hurts you, betrays you or breaks your heart forgive them because they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious to whom you open your heart to. If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally not only because they love you but because they are teaching you to love and open your heart and eyes to little things. Make every day count. Appreciate everything for you may never experience it again. Talk to people you have never talked to before and actually listen. Let yourself fall in love, break free and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right to. Tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself for if you don't believe in yourself no one will believe in you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Create your own life and then go out and live it.</span>Mandi Prevedellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00134322617999765348noreply@blogger.com0