tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62448755946846333862024-02-08T07:44:35.862+13:00A blog named BETTYI can call you BETTY, And BETTY, when you call me, you can call me Alerin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-11416527549584811792013-12-06T18:27:00.001+14:002013-12-08T09:02:38.388+14:00Shhhh! Don't tell Tessa!I'm here to share the obsession that has taken over the last week of my life. I like to call it the First-Ever All-Santa Tabernacle Choir, but it's more than that (and less, since they don't sing...or have a tabernacle).
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMKjqFryZovD3_qm4L2JlJeRe-OoF-LiFTDxW8e2JMs_0B_MkiWHeV7ZssYPSDnX0fmoBJEbzh4iDDFAuD7UBESyCddZgwQiFSNhwqM7bt8tcp8BpSU2UV3_xCRefUV0BNiEt1jc9T4Y/s1600/DSC_0111b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMKjqFryZovD3_qm4L2JlJeRe-OoF-LiFTDxW8e2JMs_0B_MkiWHeV7ZssYPSDnX0fmoBJEbzh4iDDFAuD7UBESyCddZgwQiFSNhwqM7bt8tcp8BpSU2UV3_xCRefUV0BNiEt1jc9T4Y/s320/DSC_0111b.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="text-align: start;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: start;">This is my play for missionary mom-of-the-year. They are about to be sent to their new home in California to be with Sister Shnookie2. Except now that I've spent so much time with these little jolly fellows, I want to keep them! Just kidding; I am so excited for her to get them that I can hardly stand it. </span>
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<span style="text-align: start;">What's inside them, you ask? All sorts of stuff, I answer. I will give you a complete list at the bottom in case you are really THAT interested, but each has a little goody and a scripture that ties in (sometimes rather loosely!) with the goody. For example, here are the innards of Claus #4:</span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsCXZfj_AChdN5vMMWZutg9hecoPcj2pXAfOMh3OjVk4rdV7yDysUJzZkN_zUmiu5wMmo-v0EL-m-GzJt_rykxbLPYQKSJ32XliQp8XX3diEGZBL0_PXSV2xGmCi0LVNUE5_m7lyo0qg/s1600/DSC_0117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsCXZfj_AChdN5vMMWZutg9hecoPcj2pXAfOMh3OjVk4rdV7yDysUJzZkN_zUmiu5wMmo-v0EL-m-GzJt_rykxbLPYQKSJ32XliQp8XX3diEGZBL0_PXSV2xGmCi0LVNUE5_m7lyo0qg/s320/DSC_0117.JPG" /></a><br />
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The goody is a stick of Sister Shnookie2's favorite lip balm, Burt's Bees. (And if you know Sis S2 and her luscious lips, you know why she goes through a lot of this stuff.) The balm is inside of a penguin lip gloss holder, which for some reason is not showing. But it's cute! The scripture says something semi-inspiring with the words "lips" in it.
My intent was to make 12 of these little guys, but then I got excited, bought too much stuff, and ended up with 15. You've heard about the 15 days of Christmas, right? If 12 is good then 15 is great--who's gonna complain?? Let's face it, I'm an over-achiever.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr4no4MSbxzjdQL5BzDwbUWvnDIH7Ms7Iw_Uc-HyQZU_QmetmBme8sYdlFJho3bdNlKt3VyrkkUOsleO3x2aMdh5crjBkwjOh8HeBEhy1eNCF7TYF117DopIsPh1hCjys-sFODD6iFcM/s1600/DSC_0114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr4no4MSbxzjdQL5BzDwbUWvnDIH7Ms7Iw_Uc-HyQZU_QmetmBme8sYdlFJho3bdNlKt3VyrkkUOsleO3x2aMdh5crjBkwjOh8HeBEhy1eNCF7TYF117DopIsPh1hCjys-sFODD6iFcM/s320/DSC_0114.JPG" /></a><br />
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Oh, and I know I should've counted DOWN to Christmas instead of UP, but I didn't realize that until I was half-way through, and I didn't have the heart to tear each of those signs out of the little guy's hands and start over.<br />
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Sister Shnookie 2 is going to FREAK OUT when she opens this package. And isn't that what it's all about? ( I don't know, really, is it?)<br />
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Here's the list (in no particular order, because I can't remember what is where):<br />
<b>1. A mini gingerbread house</b> (dollar store score). Scripture: <span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/109.8?lang=eng#7"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #486fae; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;">Doctrine and
Covenants 109:8</span></a></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8 Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing, and
establish a<span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span>,
even a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of prayer, a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of fasting, a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of faith, a<span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of learning, a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of glory, a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of order, a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">house</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of God;</span><span style="font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b>2. Sour gummi worms. </b>Scripture: <span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/ot/jer/31.30?lang=eng#29" style="line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jeremiah 31:30</span></a><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">30 But every one shall
die for his own iniquity: every man that eateth the <span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">sour</span> grape, his teeth shall be set
on edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/ot/job/19.26?lang=eng#25"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Job 19:26</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 13.5pt;">26 And though after my skin</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 13.5pt;"> </span><span class="highlight" style="color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 13.5pt;"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">worms</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 13.5pt;">destroy this body, yet in my flesh
shall I see God:</span><b> </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>3. A necklace of Christmas bulbs that light up </b>(dollar store). Scripture:<br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/luke/12.35?lang=eng#34"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Luke 12:35</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">35 Let your loins be girded about, and your<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">lights</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>burning; (Plus a friendly reminder to NOT wear the necklace around her loins. Yes, I did that.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 13.5pt;"><b>4. Mint LifeSavers: </b>Scripture: JST Mark 8:37 F</span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">or whosoever will save his life, shall lose it; or whosoever will save his life, shall be willing to lay it down for my sake; and if he is not willing to lay it down for my sake, he shall lose it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>5. Skittles (red & green version). </b>Scripture<b>:</b></span></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/matt/7.20?lang=eng#19"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Matthew 7:20</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">20 Wherefore by<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">their</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">fruits</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>ye shall know them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>6. Penguin Toothbrush holder (Forever 21): </b>Scripture: </span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/ot/amos/4.6?lang=eng#5"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Amos 4:6</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">6 ¶And I also have given you cleanness of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">teeth</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in all your cities, and want of bread
in all your places: yet have ye not returned unto me, saith the Lord.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>7. Spider Floss Cover (Forever 21) </b>Scripture:</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/ot/ps/3.7?lang=eng#6"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Psalms 3:7</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">7 Arise, O Lord; save me, O my God: for thou hast smitten all
mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">teeth</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of the ungodly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/ot/prov/25.19?lang=eng#18"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Proverbs 25:19</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">19 Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a
broken<span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">tooth</span></span>,
and a foot out of joint<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>8. Snickers bar. </b>Scripture: </span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/12.26?lang=eng#25"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Ether 12:26</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">26 And when I had said this, the Lord spake unto me, saying:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Fools mock</span></span>, but they shall mourn;
and my grace is sufficient for the meek, that they shall take no advantage of
your weakness;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>9. Sharpies (gold, silver & copper)</b></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/1-ne/21.2?lang=eng#1"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1 Nephi 21:2</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">2 And he hath made my mouth like a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">sharp</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>sword; in the shadow of his hand hath
he hid me, and made me a polished shaft; in his quiver hath he hid me;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>10. Sunflower seeds</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/luke/17.6?lang=eng#5" style="line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #486fae; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;">Luke 17:6</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">6 And the Lord said, If ye had<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">faith</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>as a grain of *sunflower*<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">seed</span></span>, ye might say unto this
sycamine tree, Be thou plucked up by the root, and be thou planted in the sea;
and it should obey you.</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 7.0pt;">*poetic license
taken<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><b>11. Money; folded as a dress and a shirt (learned on youtube.)</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOD0SITyZ709h_8BVWdg6IIWAHn2Bgm_YVGEtlPqDT1gq-1g7y06sXc_nJ6kOQ9Nq6BCLzOq8X5dKXLHjXDdPxntxEVAIJHiBxJWG0jWiJE3wiI44VjP0hea6Ooo6f-XUykcuGSS719W0/s1600/1463117_10202565282842245_1076296314_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOD0SITyZ709h_8BVWdg6IIWAHn2Bgm_YVGEtlPqDT1gq-1g7y06sXc_nJ6kOQ9Nq6BCLzOq8X5dKXLHjXDdPxntxEVAIJHiBxJWG0jWiJE3wiI44VjP0hea6Ooo6f-XUykcuGSS719W0/s320/1463117_10202565282842245_1076296314_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/ot/isa/55.1?lang=eng#primary" style="line-height: 15.75pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #486fae; font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;">Isaiah 55:1</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">1
Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0in;">money</span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">; come ye, buy, and
eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0in;">money</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">and
without price</span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><b>12. Werther's Caramels</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/18.10?lang=eng#9"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #486fae; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Doctrine and
Covenants 18:10</span></a><span style="color: #4870b7; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.5pt;">10 Remember the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Werther’s</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="highlight"><span style="background: #F6F2C3; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">souls</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>is great in the sight of God<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode","sans-serif"; font-size: 7.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">*poetic license taken</span></i></div>
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<b>13. Mentos Mints</b><br />
But with righteousness shall he judge the poor, and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth; and he shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked. 2 Nephi 21:4<br />
And a friendly reminder to not slay anyone with her breath.<br />
<br />
<b>14. Lip balm</b><br />
In the mouth of the foolish is a rod of pride: but the lips of the wise shall preserve them. Proverbs 14:3<br />
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<b>15. Refreshing eye mask</b><br />
D&C 84: 98 - 102ish about the Lord's kingdom being brought to the earth. Plus a little note about refreshing and basking in the day. Hugs, kisses, etc, etc.<br />
<br />
All of these notes were written on cards from a free set by my friend Dani Mogstad, which can be found here: <a href="http://www.designbydani.com/?p=7157">http://www.designbydani.com/?p=7157</a><br />
<br />
And the Santas were another generous freebie, found here: <a href="http://kathyscottage.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas-from-kathys-cottage.html">http://kathyscottage.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas-from-kathys-cottage.html</a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-23015812376487199122012-02-02T05:39:00.014+14:002012-02-02T07:01:54.656+14:00PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWERS! itty bitty living space<div>I have finally found a reason to come out of blogging semi-retirement. No, it's not some deep insight into life or touching story of my beautiful children. It is this: I am so proud of myself and I have to brag, errrr...share. I have fulfilled a life-time dream and have become an IKEA hacker! (Okay, technically I didn't even know about IKEA until I was in my 30's, but it seems like a lifetime ago, ergo the life-time dream. Okay.)</div><div><br /></div><div>In case you've missed my 200 posts on Facebook about it, we have moved. And we have downsized. To the tune of about 50%. (At least until we finish soe basement.) Enter the necessity: Lots of stuff...little space. Followed by the birth of invention: Using every inch efficiently.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>Let me just put this out there right now... I am THRILLED to downsize--that former house was like a 10 ton burden on me (although a very beloved burden. Much like children.)--and I am loving so much less real estate to care for. In addition, I have an odd attraction towards conquering spacial dilemmas. Especially since IKEA came on the scene with its itty-bitty European living quarters focus.</div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div><br /></div><div>ADD to all of that......I now live 5 minutes closer to IKEA (putting my travel time at 3.5 minutes. I know! I'm living the dream!)</div><br /><div></div><div>So, on to the actual reason for this post. My 4 children now share a bathroom that is, well, normal-size for the average American. And 3 of those kids are females in the prime of their vanity. Therefore, we are in need of big-time storage solutions. And we've previously established that I'm cheap, right? So I'm scouring IKEA on one of my weekly (daily?) expeditions, and I see this.</div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><span><u><br /></u></span></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYKwt5OXUkDVZZynQTnmbS1r7JwQGbR5hhCWtKP39uaBmx6aauq7rXwUlrLOxQgiP4pdb-iUIek-9fLAcQ1W9pFclnGG2D_X1whrTos0K0RBZUGsHEIDYU4Ar0bpR6vzeOPgLQxtXP9E/s320/DSC_0058Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704199525904770210" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px; " /><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div></div></div></div><div>Which is designed for this:</div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_sew0b-sqwOl7z0p4Ao7taPD3vm-VRZ6LlYHdVA_vGQXhqRo8d-uubcx2ncEeco_ymP_c7HzEyEceDJnjUKZKuyJRVgf5kWvP-PeTuGuTq2-wApu5xEabyjbYZaO1KNwUvKh-q2t7yA/s320/DSC_0059Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704199530154577634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 253px; " /><div><span><u><br /></u></span></div></div></div><div>On clearance. For $3.99.</div></div><div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div><div>And then I see a small glass shelf, on clearance for 99 cents. So I came up with this:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALCr8zonrvVL2LKXMBMwEDRMGt0hyphenhyphenbjuSW-0UGyGYdYJUWzd4N91P1BlODqLbDf9wuCzb6AHCtq7AdUOuuj38WmroMcgJ0fYBa__lqMZVd1RYH9A2UXoBhDB-2VMKGyG3p2LdQU_oLEc/s320/DSC_0067Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704201480307200770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px; " /><div style="text-align: left;"><div><span><u><br /></u></span></div></div></div></div></div></div><div>Times 3 (one for each female):</div><div><div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit65zrU3RcOYLrPmZ9IRibPpmBKTlnZz8WBcgSddpMUFRPkPEL9kiFoDOm2hFy4LzVspNbFb67tWca3eQF570S2w54Pm8ofK6Cj5zl8OS0i6oUyE9nrn1_oBm4BnIEnZS4GRpr6ap_vIc/s320/DSC_0071Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704202470356670418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px; " /></div><div>I know, right? But let's not leave out the tricky part, which is me realizing that the glass could slide right off the base and create havoc. So I used some clear plastic tubing, did this:</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUph6T8K9wZuS-10wFfUoNVsnz7T4ewCQxwph78HCnGZqMLi4hFCfGR6R40KDJ49bwk_efG-7M1MNfALylt7NuP0xHw2rloFOgnDGJLin64tFTU7kYFuK6xtigeLtOELCMzqiWxApx4g/s1600/DSC_0063Edit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUph6T8K9wZuS-10wFfUoNVsnz7T4ewCQxwph78HCnGZqMLi4hFCfGR6R40KDJ49bwk_efG-7M1MNfALylt7NuP0xHw2rloFOgnDGJLin64tFTU7kYFuK6xtigeLtOELCMzqiWxApx4g/s200/DSC_0063Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704208124030405330" /></a>And snip snip:</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZU_lSPUrfsGkChrzgQs56qc5zQLdpORGcGoqgK4ZPm4ViF3kWwk2hNKmGw8fTlq-P30GuKqNQbIbEZHmrff3ibhCQEV4uoTrlJpuwhMTo-pbd0BdiUqYgTY4w_qhdKDPCYkLvaLY8EM/s1600/DSC_0064Edit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZU_lSPUrfsGkChrzgQs56qc5zQLdpORGcGoqgK4ZPm4ViF3kWwk2hNKmGw8fTlq-P30GuKqNQbIbEZHmrff3ibhCQEV4uoTrlJpuwhMTo-pbd0BdiUqYgTY4w_qhdKDPCYkLvaLY8EM/s200/DSC_0064Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704208128554996578" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznDhlzvO8GuIQnlVozIiXHoCLA2KNy36K26BByMEW__txjUtMm4oMPOTrho6xyp9TuLkioaJu0N3YzohiTEf4SK_ScZFP3kAvvYTehL-zRcktV_uQCrK6FWSD65wWtoCHDlHXEmlk6PY/s1600/DSC_0065Edit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznDhlzvO8GuIQnlVozIiXHoCLA2KNy36K26BByMEW__txjUtMm4oMPOTrho6xyp9TuLkioaJu0N3YzohiTEf4SK_ScZFP3kAvvYTehL-zRcktV_uQCrK6FWSD65wWtoCHDlHXEmlk6PY/s200/DSC_0065Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704208140207356898" /></a>And the finished product (thank you for holding your applause until the end):</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUpF-4avneXwRrp5wF0apEKKzKHHewp-mUUt4-Z08DaeEWxvcE0C6-KKV6uBftZBnQWXba_1oxJ3Gt46rR9MGkddUk8f9M35FRNDKYL2bhJfSc6GYzRa_5g46htniyAXOGx-wybfX4CA/s1600/DSC_0069Edit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUpF-4avneXwRrp5wF0apEKKzKHHewp-mUUt4-Z08DaeEWxvcE0C6-KKV6uBftZBnQWXba_1oxJ3Gt46rR9MGkddUk8f9M35FRNDKYL2bhJfSc6GYzRa_5g46htniyAXOGx-wybfX4CA/s320/DSC_0069Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704212655428433202" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><div><span><u><br /></u></span></div></div>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-88837490141737433372010-07-09T03:06:00.007-11:002010-07-09T04:05:34.263-11:00Our red carpet is greenAhhhhh, summer. Around here, it means staying up late, sleeping in late, visits to the Sno Shack (nothing but the best in parking lot cuisine for us) and gracing the park with our acute sniffing abilities. Oh, did I mention that we take the dog?<br /><br />We have a GREAT park closeby. For Boozer, it's pretty much Nirvana. I'm thinking it's what he's dreaming about when he lies in the middle of our floor, snoozing, and his legs start running without him. (Not as good as the YouTube dog, but still entertaining.)<br /><br />Partly because Boozer enjoys the park so much, we, his humans, think it's pretty great too. So here's a pictorial representation of a classic outing to the park:<br /><br />We take turns walking the beast...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhYRmtVEgB54XxMpA4-Ygt1Sytz1As1FQAHnjfX75vdTMGmsfmSbh2gvG0v3UvBnpwnT0Ff390WCROMhuOHHlYhmdNArcKKgt_lPczRwAOna8_dfyVdp2rV2LJaBWzEHqqoBPlIRJxsY/s1600/DSC_0018Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhYRmtVEgB54XxMpA4-Ygt1Sytz1As1FQAHnjfX75vdTMGmsfmSbh2gvG0v3UvBnpwnT0Ff390WCROMhuOHHlYhmdNArcKKgt_lPczRwAOna8_dfyVdp2rV2LJaBWzEHqqoBPlIRJxsY/s320/DSC_0018Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491912355287572354" border="0" /></a><br />He does a little exploration...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrJyN34FCoqvcI2TR3ieYU5N_tpcunA1KMjhy7VcgPH2HzMtqhiRAkDsKhVOn1af2fx_LVYgSFs-Jk-LhtoOlfcQVS2p_ZrtYcC5ijqAg9mbW_Vi3EI9aKD3GsVb0OgF9FoTTV4q8q3w/s1600/DSC_0010Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrJyN34FCoqvcI2TR3ieYU5N_tpcunA1KMjhy7VcgPH2HzMtqhiRAkDsKhVOn1af2fx_LVYgSFs-Jk-LhtoOlfcQVS2p_ZrtYcC5ijqAg9mbW_Vi3EI9aKD3GsVb0OgF9FoTTV4q8q3w/s320/DSC_0010Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491912344430685650" border="0" /></a>And a little more...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtFmj6IWt7xGI9mKlpOBsO_yE_7a331QKEzhAlx4y3rjFnwJ3FSpTnrTyOmYEpKiWg0I2aZAvbKvOHxvl-86_hINpoQfx-EwnVN3ejTvLQ-AtCEIjpremXlQwVVPoQeXYXwX6W7X5zxIY/s1600/DSC_0011Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtFmj6IWt7xGI9mKlpOBsO_yE_7a331QKEzhAlx4y3rjFnwJ3FSpTnrTyOmYEpKiWg0I2aZAvbKvOHxvl-86_hINpoQfx-EwnVN3ejTvLQ-AtCEIjpremXlQwVVPoQeXYXwX6W7X5zxIY/s320/DSC_0011Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491913480398157122" border="0" /></a>And rinse and repeat until you're at the end of your rope...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2iOLBZx366omamlosr-OcpvY1_rr9TUDOtWtJeWU59WLgVWZwGdIngVMvrW6JsSj3HeXbOWa1S1E_HhpWmSjz3DXQEcClrsRMQEzqWnRSDgjOw6uyRdXZ8FUftL-ua37Qhp9Dg9PYsAA/s1600/DSC_0013Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2iOLBZx366omamlosr-OcpvY1_rr9TUDOtWtJeWU59WLgVWZwGdIngVMvrW6JsSj3HeXbOWa1S1E_HhpWmSjz3DXQEcClrsRMQEzqWnRSDgjOw6uyRdXZ8FUftL-ua37Qhp9Dg9PYsAA/s320/DSC_0013Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491914159283039106" border="0" /></a>Then there's this...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4lUOMzziHEFolg4SsrnBKYdTutKvZc8aYkbU8vwMfCgWFgK2jqChqFLrvY_ryJoCdeKRptaWSdlgK6Cf4sCdXOFL6iOdp1vChf-UpVVuXjGVsiXMlhRbRsCapR9LYrVLnpK1vQtnz6s/s1600/DSC_0024Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4lUOMzziHEFolg4SsrnBKYdTutKvZc8aYkbU8vwMfCgWFgK2jqChqFLrvY_ryJoCdeKRptaWSdlgK6Cf4sCdXOFL6iOdp1vChf-UpVVuXjGVsiXMlhRbRsCapR9LYrVLnpK1vQtnz6s/s320/DSC_0024Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491914778487478562" border="0" /></a><br />Oh, and <span style="font-weight: bold;">A LOT</span> of this...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyi03SOsN3EfdbJgTj7tWIv4G7K5lZ1JpkogoflyAiCqObTsdCuRz2dFMm_fb_zsOA1bmxUdof9ksvh72h2B8l0AH-VEFGuEPpbeLYjU23_nPVAfXqiQ6icZXk17_mp4j9_MoxcymBmo/s1600/DSC_0020Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyi03SOsN3EfdbJgTj7tWIv4G7K5lZ1JpkogoflyAiCqObTsdCuRz2dFMm_fb_zsOA1bmxUdof9ksvh72h2B8l0AH-VEFGuEPpbeLYjU23_nPVAfXqiQ6icZXk17_mp4j9_MoxcymBmo/s320/DSC_0020Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491913489873094194" border="0" /></a><br />We are basically a walking freak show, and it takes us FOREVER to get around the park, due to human curiosity. Every ten feet we're stopped by someone, and we take turns fielding the questions. I sound like I'm complaining (because, let's face it, that's pretty much my job), but we really enjoy it. And Boozer? He thinks he's Mick Jagger. He loves every second of the petting, the cooing, the 'can my child sit on his back?' (Well, not that so much, but he'll usually put up with it once or twice.)<br /><br />And least you think it's all about the canine at the park, here's a great shot of one of our humans:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3VCK7vSvn-TFx4aJ3FWP0Nuj9vo47O_3fZLj3yZ6vN3QEkpu92VUpYU9cKVTtIaLPndEOoII8QAdOlkMzLsqNkPeaKJkDB6Ht1DlGHgqiXjdoFDAutds640n8ndvcuZfIMW7QLMnpTU/s1600/DSC_0005FlatteryWeb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3VCK7vSvn-TFx4aJ3FWP0Nuj9vo47O_3fZLj3yZ6vN3QEkpu92VUpYU9cKVTtIaLPndEOoII8QAdOlkMzLsqNkPeaKJkDB6Ht1DlGHgqiXjdoFDAutds640n8ndvcuZfIMW7QLMnpTU/s320/DSC_0005FlatteryWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491910274929105138" border="0" /></a>Yes, we love the park, and we're just egotistical enough to think that the park loves us. After all, would it shine like this for just anyone? I think not!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRClL9yFZMWiHHFGdCyceP3QWKjrNoOmpebfeeC-DZ5jcIPEK31tR9TOCCEFhVLYx8cruAras5g7EwoVXL5B-kaeO0tYxVG1irU0fhNXB06SlkL1h4K8u6TrXSZvb2JP2kFFEtFln_XWI/s1600/DSC_0029FlatteryWeb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRClL9yFZMWiHHFGdCyceP3QWKjrNoOmpebfeeC-DZ5jcIPEK31tR9TOCCEFhVLYx8cruAras5g7EwoVXL5B-kaeO0tYxVG1irU0fhNXB06SlkL1h4K8u6TrXSZvb2JP2kFFEtFln_XWI/s320/DSC_0029FlatteryWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491913492624048274" border="0" /></a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-20191551082275091712010-04-25T11:58:00.006-11:002010-07-09T04:05:11.950-11:00Time WarpYa know how time flies when you’re having fun? Let’s be honest, time just plain flies. You don’t have to be having fun, although that’s a more…well..fun…option. We have lived here in this house for twelve years. My brain knows that that is a long time. My brain tells me that that’s longer than I’ve ever lived anywhere. My brain likes to point out that two of our four children have never lived anywhere else; and they’re not little kids anymore. HOWEVah, some other vital organ—probably my heart—will say that our house is fairly new, that we had all the kids when we moved here, that we look FORWARD to living here a long time. <br /><br />THEN I COME ACROSS A PHOTO LIKE THIS:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iu3OxdGccGashPgs968omS0oQ9cmmov_eX6gpJ_vsU0Ts_OX40KozbGnUxWClYrI_X09WitIDa5lC9Ha3ysDTmLyVyBIjBLd2w_7bTUJedrEeLGqryUnzjzoOGjlnCM1zfFb9QapGvc/s1600/CorbTess98EasterWeb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iu3OxdGccGashPgs968omS0oQ9cmmov_eX6gpJ_vsU0Ts_OX40KozbGnUxWClYrI_X09WitIDa5lC9Ha3ysDTmLyVyBIjBLd2w_7bTUJedrEeLGqryUnzjzoOGjlnCM1zfFb9QapGvc/s320/CorbTess98EasterWeb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464214316917384466" /></a><br /><br />and all of my innards are forced to comply with reality. Because here’s the exact same shot now:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYiJ_1JTR0RCeniHytQuGTKT1ZzxJVOQsLU3tkxSD6wg11Xi94k0beq9UAka9pj0SgNEExkcjxHLMPFHdX_jvADdUBVFq-UWUAWOd41qKgiUIuoEl2Ut-D1ymbWUReN0xlkGw6_qdG-M/s1600/DSC_0345Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYiJ_1JTR0RCeniHytQuGTKT1ZzxJVOQsLU3tkxSD6wg11Xi94k0beq9UAka9pj0SgNEExkcjxHLMPFHdX_jvADdUBVFq-UWUAWOd41qKgiUIuoEl2Ut-D1ymbWUReN0xlkGw6_qdG-M/s320/DSC_0345Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464213883813178482" /></a><br /><br />I can't even get all of that tree in the picture now! And getting those two to hug was a little more difficult this time. I'm sure there was some pinching going on somewhere in there. But they're still cute, aren't they?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_N58qy2new1BuWB9evgENvrFKSEu06-_BrXhu3HeXK5RngkLaYVUBikjsdaMO70xw7bQPZlDSVEf9kEcr_W-cMhYzAa8mClr6LsTVD9uEQuf9vXsnJe7wU9poIe-wiPe2i13ES9w7GM/s1600/DSC_0346Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_N58qy2new1BuWB9evgENvrFKSEu06-_BrXhu3HeXK5RngkLaYVUBikjsdaMO70xw7bQPZlDSVEf9kEcr_W-cMhYzAa8mClr6LsTVD9uEQuf9vXsnJe7wU9poIe-wiPe2i13ES9w7GM/s320/DSC_0346Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464229435941382786" /></a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-2322342037120400112010-03-30T09:07:00.003-11:002010-07-09T04:04:55.996-11:00Why texting is for youngstersSeveral months ago, poor Shnookie4 went through a horrible week of consistent, severe headaches. Then they just disappeared. Until now. He's been in frequent pain for a couple of weeks now. On Sunday, I told him that if he wasn't better the next day, I'd call and make a doctor's appointment for him. I was at the fabric store the next day when I got a text from him saying he still felt rotten. I told him to tell Hubby and ask him to set an appointment.<br /><br />I got home from the store, which is when Hubby told me about the appointment and all. Then he said, "Just so you know when you get there, I told them he needs his heart checked." Puzzled, I said, "Why in the world would you tell them that?" Well...evidently, Shnookie texted him the following message: "Dad, please call the doctor. I need him to look at my head." Hubby--not a huge texter and without glasses on--saw 'head' as 'heart.' And there you are. (However, when they asked what Shnookie's symptoms are, Hubby told them his head was really killing him.)erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-54276095216371017002010-01-20T14:28:00.001-11:002010-01-26T08:33:01.018-11:00DUH-BULL-YOU DUH-BULL-YOU DUH-BULL-YOU<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CERINBL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CERINBL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CERINBL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> 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<style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I am angry with the world wide web. You may notice the irony in me using the world wide web as a vehicle to vent about the world wide web, but here’s where I’ll get to go “HA!” followed by a long explanation concluding with “I rest my case.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a long convoluted thought process the other night (yup—lost the remote again), I realized that I have lost a precious and significant portion of my life to the dummies who decided to call it the world wide web. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Think about it. Sure, it’s only 3 little syllables to utter aloud. World Wide Web. HOWEVER, who ever calls it by its whole name? We are, afterall a shortcut society who will use an acronym <i style="">even when it takes longer than just saying the actual phrase.</i> THUS, we end up using the longest letter in the alphabet--DUH-BULL-YOU—not once, but 3 times, over and over everyday all over the world.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Based on the statistic that 82% of statistics are made up on the spot, I feel confident saying that this waste of breath has robbed the average person of .75% of his or her life.<span style=""> </span>That may only equal a month (or not…I can’t be bothered with math), but that’s a whole month one could spend playing Farkle.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let’s face it…there are so many other names these buffoons could have given the web, even if they wanted to stick with the catchy alliteration. Global Guidance Generator…Cosmic Connection Circulator… Intercontinental Information Infuser. <span style=""> </span>And that’s just off the top of my thesaurus.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In conclusion, I rest my case.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Be sure and tune into my next rant at ggg.ablognamedBETTY. com.</p> erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-75576065625855491332009-11-09T14:58:00.003-11:002009-11-10T15:33:05.619-11:00Here, have a fake cigarSo, I participated in the "grandmother for a weekend" program. I don't want to brag, but I think I did pretty well. I should be ready to grandmother a real baby sometime in the next decade.<br /><br />Shnookie2 is taking child development in school, and the pinnacle of that experience is being entrusted with a fake baby for a weekend. And when I say 'fake,' I mean fake on steroids. These babies have computers inside that simulate the craziness of motherhood pretty well. In fact, I think they may have surpassed the mark on discouraging teen pregnancy here--we'll be lucky if this generation will EVER have children after a weekend with these little gremlins.<br /><br />As you may have guessed, this weekend was Shnookie's long-awaited turn with Robo Baby. She was hoping for an Asian boy, but ended up with a Caucasian girl (we've all been there). Of course, she was just thankful it was healthy. She named her Payton Shea Bishlack (which is the compound last name Shnookie's friends have started using for her to avoid the 2 last-names confusion). Please note that Payton is pronounced according the Utah dialect: no T... "Pay-en." (To hear Shnookie saying it like a Utahn over and over was somewhat disturbing. Then I realized that she has been raised in Utah, so what do I expect?? It's not like I can blame someone else! Not that I won't try...)<br /><br />Here's a picture of Pay-en with her custodial parent. (She won't tell me who the father is, but I'm suspecting it's either one of those Old Navy mannequins or else Ken ((Barbie will be livid!))):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4eHyOXwHkX1-dwKoV1SSp3PstkLXrk9zT4PjvVbsftt1wZLIhfVSjhDxoJj8Q4V-E-OcLOK2hXQ7Bj8CEIlK9EyWZn_4IC8MkHIxwaEnctdkn8PPFGgImTRDwMqooH90ql0hSWRboto/s1600-h/DSC_0266.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4eHyOXwHkX1-dwKoV1SSp3PstkLXrk9zT4PjvVbsftt1wZLIhfVSjhDxoJj8Q4V-E-OcLOK2hXQ7Bj8CEIlK9EyWZn_4IC8MkHIxwaEnctdkn8PPFGgImTRDwMqooH90ql0hSWRboto/s320/DSC_0266.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402637087782765490" border="0" /></a>I think she has my nose. Speaking of which, the girls were playing the "I'm gonna steal your nose" game with her, and she didn't smile once. Hmph! Fake kids these days.<br /><br />In case you haven't seen one of these babies, the rules are pretty much like Parenting 101. When it cries, try changing its diaper or feeding it or burping it. If you do the right thing, it will giggle once and then be quiet. HOWEVER, sometimes it just cries and there's nothing that will make it stop. That was a condition I was all too familiar with. This process goes on 24/7--right through the night.<br /><br />The biggest concern when mothering one of these creatures is that you avoid abuse at all costs. You can't let its head tip back, or drop it, or shake it, etc, because it registers abuse in its little implant computer and its parent will have to answer for it. Protecting your charge sounds much more simple than it is, since humans seem to have an inordinate amount of macabre curiosity. Social situations--especially of the teenage boy variety--are a nightmare. Evidently, there is nothing more people would like to do than throw a plastic baby against the wall and see what happens. And the more Shnookie begged them not to hurt it, the more they wanted to see blood. I had to reassure Shnookie repeatedly that this phenomenon is unique to fake babies and she won't have to fight people off of her future real babies. We are an odd group, we humans!<br /><br />So here's the visual that will stay with me from this experience: Me walking out of the chapel and seeing Shnookie2, holding her baby out in the foyer, right in the middle of a group of other mothers and their (real) babies. They were swapping stories. I kid you not!<br /><br />And here's the audio I will remember, from a phone call: "MOM!! Come and get the baby! I'm in a meeting and she won't stop crying!!"<br /><br />Well, I drove over to the meeting, picked up the baby, and thanked my lucky stars that I will never hear that phrase again from my teenage daughter.<br /><br />And then I went home and put the baby in the dryer on fluff cycle. Just to see what would happen.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-42960924992710722202009-10-20T09:39:00.004-11:002009-10-20T13:28:20.315-11:00Things that go bump in the nightWe had a bit of excitement in the neighborhood last night. Unfortunately, we were at the center of it. And nary a single one of us even knew it at the time. There we were, going about our business, blissfully ignorant (like always). Personally, I was on this here machine, cursing the phone for its ringing, ringing, ringing while I was doggedly ignoring, ignoring, ignoring it. Next thing I knew, half the neighborhood was on our doorstep, knocking, knocking, knocking.<br /><br />(Take note: when there's an emergency and you don't answer your phone, your neighbors will gather all their friends and come to your door.)<br /><br />Through my dogged ignoringness, I hear my kids open the door (they just don't get the 'hit-the-floor-and-don't-move' policy we have for such occasions.), and I hear the words "car" "tree" and "Snookie1" float up to me. You can imagine how fast I threw down the laptop and flew downstairs. When I got the whole sentence, it went something this: "Shnookie1's car just rolled down the hill and hit our tree. He's not in it."<br /><br />Okay, whew. But last I knew, Shnookie1 wasn't even home, so I was a wee bit confused. (Evidently,this is another disadvantage about holing up in your room with the laptop. Children come and go and live their lives without you.) Anyway, I found him in the shower (well, not literally). I was pounding on the bathroom door, yelling the situation through it. No doubt he only heard snippets like "your car" and "tree," because his "what?"s became more and more incredulous the more I yelled. Finally, I belted a "GET OUT OF THE SHOWER AND COME HERE!!!"<br /><br />We live at the top of a curved incline. Somehow, Shnook's car started it's little journey ever so slowly, then picked up momentum on the hill, where it crossed the street, missed a shiny new truck by mere inches, went across a lawn and then met with a sturdy tree. If it had missed the tree, it would've continued straight into a house. And by then it would've been going at a pretty good clip.<br /><br />By the time Shnookie1 and I got there, quite a crowd had gathered. Who knew that many people were out after dark on a Monday night?! I, of course, grabbed my camera before we left home. (I told myself it was for insurance purposes, but who am I kidding? I want to be able to remind him of this the rest of his life in visual form.)<br /><br />Here's the scene: (Shnook isn't slumped over; he's bending over to see the ignition.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFx1E5D60NSCA30yDuhE2hwoHX08x0h1DDzHMvuUVTIyZkNZAS-EfCuhkRCOqLqTuAgqraFDDiHx1ZUeS3r31UFIzY9pKsBkbftXassXUku7sfj0DGUGuK5SV4UBCIV5D2G3kMWhQBbM/s1600-h/DSC_0279.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFx1E5D60NSCA30yDuhE2hwoHX08x0h1DDzHMvuUVTIyZkNZAS-EfCuhkRCOqLqTuAgqraFDDiHx1ZUeS3r31UFIzY9pKsBkbftXassXUku7sfj0DGUGuK5SV4UBCIV5D2G3kMWhQBbM/s320/DSC_0279.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394838061921112178" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And here's how the tree looks:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ78za64Gpu6M95Dp61p14r2W51u1UAlDMNGeAFydPnAKTuJNLZWdaboUEke7MwWUzZp1VFKIC3QaTApO-raFQpphhm9VsZwP1aGoVB2fML81GovpUoCtTXyHwt2Mc0mZrUGl-XWH-hWs/s1600-h/DSC_0280.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ78za64Gpu6M95Dp61p14r2W51u1UAlDMNGeAFydPnAKTuJNLZWdaboUEke7MwWUzZp1VFKIC3QaTApO-raFQpphhm9VsZwP1aGoVB2fML81GovpUoCtTXyHwt2Mc0mZrUGl-XWH-hWs/s320/DSC_0280.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394838134376755778" border="0" /></a><br />I think everyone will live.<br /><br />We're still not sure exactly how the car got a'rollin. It's always parked in the same place, and it's never happened before. Shnook is pretty sure he had it in park, but who knows. My theory? The Headless Horseman moved to town recently and is chaffing from too much time in the saddle. He saw a sweet ride (he's headless--he can't see <span style="font-style: italic;">well</span>) with cushy seats and took off in it. Obviously, it's the only logical conclusion.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-53584459795136359612009-09-29T10:44:00.010-11:002009-09-29T20:40:12.218-11:00A Most Excellent AdventureSo, I took me a little jaunt to Washington DC a few weeks ago. I was accompanied by my dear friend, Merrie, which was fun just in itself. And also well-balanced, because she's a democrat and I'm a republican. These things matter in DC. We stayed at her friend, Matt's, place, which was only a skip and a jump away in Arlington, VA. Well, unless you get lost, and then it can be a skip, a 2-hour loop, and then a jump away.<br /><br />Okay, so it happens that we spent A LOT of our time lost. I prefer to call it 'forced exploration.' I'd never been there before, and getting lost afforded me the pleasure of seeing so many things! (Sometimes the same thing. Over and over. DC has a lot of loops!) For instance, the first day we were supposed to be headed South, to Matt's place, when we turned a corner and BAM! there is the Washington Monument looming over us. Oops, that would be North, but WOW! I was so excited! I get a little flusterpated when I see real things that I've seen in books, so I spent a lot of time hyperventilating (but mostly on the inside. don't want to cause a scene!).<br /><br />There's really too much to tell, but I must share one story. Merrie and were resting on a bench by the Lincoln Memorial, and this squirrel jumped up onto the lamp post right beside me. "Great photo opp!" I'm thinking, "Who knows when I'll be that close to a squirrel again?" Here he is, cute, cute, cute!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bijBjeLPpBhlLldsbUgVHbVg4KHUSIDL_mK6zlTygICftY73Hy6-U_2MGKSqt_lecUIjfnf_NXFdlIVd6e3ZlGtM89IkfXFGG5kVKwobfUGCmLHjoi3bx7P2QYGNS8MB7UsDNkBbKTY/s1600-h/DSC_0114.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bijBjeLPpBhlLldsbUgVHbVg4KHUSIDL_mK6zlTygICftY73Hy6-U_2MGKSqt_lecUIjfnf_NXFdlIVd6e3ZlGtM89IkfXFGG5kVKwobfUGCmLHjoi3bx7P2QYGNS8MB7UsDNkBbKTY/s200/DSC_0114.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387022688537793314" border="0" /></a>Next thing I know, Merrie has pulled out a Milano cookie, and that critter jumps into my lap to get it. It was a bit of a shock, but at least I was coherent enough to point and click.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBSrPAcbk6cvVpa3rpgOc0ynAmXsKkEAzoqOz9VFkRgmkdiaxlsnbUYpKFgpWK2SUdyTr97ENIbBh6qSJtlVK4bx7lPmtY3bBuotIJQH3xK2GfPM1j6HJntGEOCGjc3l38sFrKVac7Ck/s1600-h/DSC_0115.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBSrPAcbk6cvVpa3rpgOc0ynAmXsKkEAzoqOz9VFkRgmkdiaxlsnbUYpKFgpWK2SUdyTr97ENIbBh6qSJtlVK4bx7lPmtY3bBuotIJQH3xK2GfPM1j6HJntGEOCGjc3l38sFrKVac7Ck/s200/DSC_0115.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387022924006234146" border="0" /></a>That right there just proves what anyone/thing will go through to get a Milano.<br /><br />When I talked to Shnookie3 that night, I said I had something cool to tell her. So I told her the story about Mr. Squirrel. She said, "I thought you were going to tell me that you walked by Obama or something!" So I'm thinking the squirrel is kinda lame compared to that. But then she says, "But this is WAY better!" That right there says how much kids admire politicians these days, don't ya think?<br /><br />Another story: Merrie got it into her head that we needed to make our husbands believe that we found boyfriends out there (besides Mr. Squirrel). So she was on the outlook for some suitable candidates the whole day we were at the American Mall. It was a great day for characters, since it was the day that all those conservatives came to picket Obama at the capital. All sorts of people were carrying signs and wearing t-shirts. Poor Mr. Obama...he was not popular in that crowd!<br /><br />Anyway, toward the end of our day, Merrie spots these 3 guys, wearing matching red, white & blue flag shirts and cowboy boots. Zing went the strings of her heart, I guess, because she just had to get her picture taken with them. Here they are with her:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsKDZe53R37enlUxtwAzEMShiXMFmQvGtvQAdRo1VBEgWgV0RaLpUvJLjKX2VYCLTS374rsH_3aJvvLvrF22KSG2WAlfziXQj4SEQF3ZAkR5tczyfFPoh2ShN_y2gCNjfWHjQ67R4jbg/s1600-h/DSC_0145.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsKDZe53R37enlUxtwAzEMShiXMFmQvGtvQAdRo1VBEgWgV0RaLpUvJLjKX2VYCLTS374rsH_3aJvvLvrF22KSG2WAlfziXQj4SEQF3ZAkR5tczyfFPoh2ShN_y2gCNjfWHjQ67R4jbg/s320/DSC_0145.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387029173913683538" border="0" /></a>That right there says that even a card-carrying democrat loves her a bunch of red, white & blue blooded republicans! :)<br /><br />Soon after this, we were ready to walk to our car. On our way, we saw a cool structure and took some pics there. Merrie was down, laying ON the GROUND, taking pictures of me in front of it, when these same patriot hotties happen to walk up! Okay, so it's a total coincidence, but we prefer to tell ourselves that our incredible magnetism pulled them that way. And they jump in the pictures, this time with me. And apparently, the photo opp with Merrie got them riled up, cause they really came out of their shells for this batch!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ5M9HGJ9Tzr5jHCnO_g08iYUlJSfW4Tq7VAjpolHzMSIl_J_LUQFJuUkeKh65vJqhf5dtYYmuU35B0fZaqrmsOm22exzEzo2DMajWGhkt3DE6yr2apsbOKhyphenhyphenLwXb2qhvuLZ4cBzZnsDk/s1600-h/DSC_0158.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ5M9HGJ9Tzr5jHCnO_g08iYUlJSfW4Tq7VAjpolHzMSIl_J_LUQFJuUkeKh65vJqhf5dtYYmuU35B0fZaqrmsOm22exzEzo2DMajWGhkt3DE6yr2apsbOKhyphenhyphenLwXb2qhvuLZ4cBzZnsDk/s320/DSC_0158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387031402790714338" border="0" /></a>That's Mr. Cowboy Hat's tongue reaching toward my ear. Yup.<br />Ohhhhh, I haven't laughed that hard in awhile. That right there proves how silly grown people can get when they're high on America.<br /><br />Finally, I have to say that I got to see more art in REAL LIFE, which makes me super, super flusterpated! We went to the National Museum of Art, and it was amazing! I about passed out when they told me I could take actual pictures inside of the museum! Yes, I brought the whole museum home with me on my camera. But here's just 3 of my favorites:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL32_o8lLgD0M4RROUwiW1myYf7XY2VJodBRLz5Qat23ezcrYBvVKsrz6wQBvXsdfBnlOkEshqTATMXiUSHRIwnsfXdGUkSQNYcS5VWk5xmI67P6PDVILOOvm0Cjwk4eMRW13CVU0B_AU/s1600-h/DSC_0182.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL32_o8lLgD0M4RROUwiW1myYf7XY2VJodBRLz5Qat23ezcrYBvVKsrz6wQBvXsdfBnlOkEshqTATMXiUSHRIwnsfXdGUkSQNYcS5VWk5xmI67P6PDVILOOvm0Cjwk4eMRW13CVU0B_AU/s320/DSC_0182.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387038016717327074" border="0" /></a>Seeing this painting (by Fragonard) in real life really took my breath away. A copy of it hung in the RS room in the church where I grew up, and I've always loved it. The richness of the color and brushstrokes is astounding in the original.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDMnmqdlsKYX7zP7mGCUfTDAjV5WuXXqgyNVtcvcMZ7NMvqv0K8bsj2-Wha44T5vHtD0qJWblClhCqm54S3TgiipP6I_yMfxi1emnjh11Dw3uX5k1QWbQPKthDGbTBkVntZ8aiwYlSPoM/s1600-h/DSC_0254.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDMnmqdlsKYX7zP7mGCUfTDAjV5WuXXqgyNVtcvcMZ7NMvqv0K8bsj2-Wha44T5vHtD0qJWblClhCqm54S3TgiipP6I_yMfxi1emnjh11Dw3uX5k1QWbQPKthDGbTBkVntZ8aiwYlSPoM/s320/DSC_0254.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387038033537722370" border="0" /></a>By Matisse<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZVPvhtpM4bOKogmBiZoJY2MemsNbxeT6hP5OXvPTIXh1DtpdZ5TVWvGXcMZKMNjknUUxHa9QMzlrVTTt_sUyhhsALHBsESYXs6eSvOxIU1ADImhF_Q2r2K1FQ3PFLFcSxpS-40dLzQw/s1600-h/DSC_0196.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZVPvhtpM4bOKogmBiZoJY2MemsNbxeT6hP5OXvPTIXh1DtpdZ5TVWvGXcMZKMNjknUUxHa9QMzlrVTTt_sUyhhsALHBsESYXs6eSvOxIU1ADImhF_Q2r2K1FQ3PFLFcSxpS-40dLzQw/s320/DSC_0196.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387107807291045538" border="0" /></a>by Degas. It's the only sculpture he ever put in an exhibition. It's quite stunning.<br /><br />I really enjoyed this trip. The weather was gorgeous, and I loved how lush the area is. But most of all, I was happy to share it with Merrie. She's so open to new experiences and fun-loving and friendly and easy-going and just a delight! Where we goin next, Mer??<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSLg43foSXfqOy5rwoIwcPZYJ31C-pWw0JxCwaQ2NgWwgndaIo47pidApkPfj8XRP2kONFCDebYJWFJ6Bj236yz3qGULFqKTl2V9lcRW7244vyKAQ18Z5FAWbN4e7y7JE8Kr5YCqLPH0/s1600-h/DSC_0159.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSLg43foSXfqOy5rwoIwcPZYJ31C-pWw0JxCwaQ2NgWwgndaIo47pidApkPfj8XRP2kONFCDebYJWFJ6Bj236yz3qGULFqKTl2V9lcRW7244vyKAQ18Z5FAWbN4e7y7JE8Kr5YCqLPH0/s320/DSC_0159.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387110984773955410" border="0" /></a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-59411254992818656612009-08-26T16:43:00.003-11:002009-08-26T17:00:41.672-11:00Skack to BoolI did some back-to-school shopping for BETTY. After all, it's hardly fair to spend on everyone else and leave her out. Doesn't she look fetching? Poor thing hasn't had a new look in ages. Why, it's tantamount to blog abuse. Anyone know a support group she can go to?<br /><br />And speaking of back-to-school, the shnookies are...well...back to school! It's a pretty big year for all of them, with #1 starting his SENIOR year, #2 starting her first year in high school, #3 being top of the heap in 6th grade, and #4 launching into 4th grade--the signal of her downward trip in grade school. Oh my, I think I lost an inch just thinking about it--I am an old woman! (See how that works? I started out talking about them, but it always ends up about me.)<br /><br />And speaking of me, I have to admit that it was a heavenly day for me. With the kids back in school and Hubby out of town, I had the whole house (except for the 6X6 area occupied by Boozer) to myself. I savored, I basked, I reveled. And then I went inside and put my clothes back on.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-46976943134524752009-08-07T07:56:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:10:32.123-11:00An Affair to Remember<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:relyonvml/> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CERINBL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CERINBL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> 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mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">I have to say, I am feeling sorry about saying goodbye to July. It is my dear friend, and I hate that I only get to see it once a year. Oh, we always promise to stay in touch, but by January, I can barely even remember its face. Come the end of February, I’ve been known to curse its name for abandoning me so completely. Luckily, I’m a born forgiver, and when July finally shows its face again, I’m there with open arms. I throw it a party, complete with all the fanfare and fireworks.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our time together this year (as always) has been delightful. Oh, of course we have our tiffs—July can get a little hot and bothered at times, and I get all red in the face and huffy—but that’s how it is with relationships. We still part friends and only remember the good times.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I know that the majority of Americans put Christmas at the top of their friend list, but I much prefer the 4<sup>th</sup> of my best friend, July. Sure, I enjoy Christmas as much as the next guy—its pageantry, its coziness, and all of its festive activities. Beyond that, however, the relationship feels a bit one-sided. Christmas demands that I do A LOT of work to keep the love alive. Shopping, baking, shuttling, concerting…the demands just go on and on.<span style=""> </span>It’s all a little high-maintenance for me. Call me selfish, but I much prefer being at the receiving end of my relationships. All that July 4<sup>th</sup> requires of me is to slap down a few lawn chairs and stir up some lemonade. In return, I’m showered with warm breezes, dazzling fireworks overhead, and giggling children running around with their sparklers.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m pretty much convinced that July loves visiting Draper, Utah the best. Besides the obvious attraction of *ME* being here, it knows how we like to prolong the July 4<sup>th</sup> feeling into extra innings. Toward the middle of the month, we break out the fireworks for the illustrious Draper Days, followed shortly thereafter by Pioneer Day, another celebration smacking of good ole patriotism. The whole month is literally crackling with excitement.</p><p class="MsoNormal">And so it is with great sadness that I bid farewell to my BFF, July. At least we part knowing that we've made the most of our time together and have wasted nary a moment; in fact, we had not one single tiff this year. I found July to be even more delightful than usual, with a cool temperament that pleased me to no end.</p><p class="MsoNormal">As a tribute to my dear friend, here are a few pics of the glorious time we had together this year:</p><p class="MsoNormal">A beautiful, full-mooned 4th of July at home:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRztEPEg7eXIz3x_OlMo27669DkgsTSQXtlVqZ_OBPQRNe2SIWgAwBrsUrnXPA96q4xOmP8T7Whflqzp4zIZiuJ56C8TeWGKcrL0RRwuLHL7m9xmaWmQpwT7JrCReYvkz61XiR7TMqmA/s1600-h/DSC_0102Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRztEPEg7eXIz3x_OlMo27669DkgsTSQXtlVqZ_OBPQRNe2SIWgAwBrsUrnXPA96q4xOmP8T7Whflqzp4zIZiuJ56C8TeWGKcrL0RRwuLHL7m9xmaWmQpwT7JrCReYvkz61XiR7TMqmA/s320/DSC_0102Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367347873455874930" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Many Taylor Swift-themed garage-band concerts :</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_w4fSZNzbfFpWNjxSlAVtA2ZPy8J37a2VmeOqZokTM8rHgNFL0jEHHVUngTTwMS9Pz_TEEVqhtKT8KphMMY29wQ07OdPmJABcMswo6YZEvh7lCd8iQX9UjiSSw9gVENRQmul1aIAV_Y/s1600-h/DSC_0095Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_w4fSZNzbfFpWNjxSlAVtA2ZPy8J37a2VmeOqZokTM8rHgNFL0jEHHVUngTTwMS9Pz_TEEVqhtKT8KphMMY29wQ07OdPmJABcMswo6YZEvh7lCd8iQX9UjiSSw9gVENRQmul1aIAV_Y/s320/DSC_0095Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367347868299687218" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some fun home improvement projects:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4OfTcVKZiCu6QvRNlwHFkwcz8JSRCHLrUHcwm8sLcXOz0AMzzKIVR3ln2xDCx9Cik2PQyH4KQIQ94PXZDMaGt6AXYo9uFTiSo-19PQEZfkjfAc_4Yby0-3slujmJu3vpMKM-xHsPG8w/s1600-h/DSC_0106Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4OfTcVKZiCu6QvRNlwHFkwcz8JSRCHLrUHcwm8sLcXOz0AMzzKIVR3ln2xDCx9Cik2PQyH4KQIQ94PXZDMaGt6AXYo9uFTiSo-19PQEZfkjfAc_4Yby0-3slujmJu3vpMKM-xHsPG8w/s320/DSC_0106Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367347886097722514" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Shnookie3 discovering a love of tennis:
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3XVnBol-EeIs637233S4jT5Q4QVexjmLNG4Y06CUa6nCH458pg6DP1i3ixJu1YHmjpdFjofSJB_76b8W9pgsktm7e1OKTvmcrCNBOgRgFqLCarysF8MEaX-F3fxkDOtkF_OsTHnWgYs/s1600-h/DSC_0095Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3XVnBol-EeIs637233S4jT5Q4QVexjmLNG4Y06CUa6nCH458pg6DP1i3ixJu1YHmjpdFjofSJB_76b8W9pgsktm7e1OKTvmcrCNBOgRgFqLCarysF8MEaX-F3fxkDOtkF_OsTHnWgYs/s320/DSC_0095Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367347880072004738" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Draper Days, with its concerts, friends, face-painting, and the best (free) fireworks in the Rockies:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XfgEnzynOTEJDMej_MajdvkPhdebYavdSKc_dtTMIJDZ16rmDZ431NVe6lqF67SgeEZGAJBsgTc7SnsdNg3o6VdOkGIXyp_N_t6UtfqoWG8uGloOh0AtF0_fAumRAT3esrXco6HjcCA/s1600-h/DSC_0126Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XfgEnzynOTEJDMej_MajdvkPhdebYavdSKc_dtTMIJDZ16rmDZ431NVe6lqF67SgeEZGAJBsgTc7SnsdNg3o6VdOkGIXyp_N_t6UtfqoWG8uGloOh0AtF0_fAumRAT3esrXco6HjcCA/s320/DSC_0126Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367347895956851986" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJrHMn9A7bMaqFlRUH3z1nfpL3K7_3SmRxBhrk5WKXjLioKRjJo2hntF5eEOiSV7alBGmcXUVuUuinejA80QAAy3KdgPlRm-EFrCJ4za8lJMuRKSYiN0xSEdp4MHyFZzOj5xKum1F-chw/s1600-h/DSC_0131Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJrHMn9A7bMaqFlRUH3z1nfpL3K7_3SmRxBhrk5WKXjLioKRjJo2hntF5eEOiSV7alBGmcXUVuUuinejA80QAAy3KdgPlRm-EFrCJ4za8lJMuRKSYiN0xSEdp4MHyFZzOj5xKum1F-chw/s320/DSC_0131Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367349210702235506" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuNapWN7ceLI_qno29LbXMCrjt3eHDMfApfFhNMh_gDD5RG6-cNGL9lbzfDG_ebG7ZERA_8YbtUvBrcDJ_iUrXKZQi_TVfG1jLHHpuGkZaRDg_pjSTK6QMahfggmjnzsOTjPJ8D0BXZQ/s1600-h/DSC_0152.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuNapWN7ceLI_qno29LbXMCrjt3eHDMfApfFhNMh_gDD5RG6-cNGL9lbzfDG_ebG7ZERA_8YbtUvBrcDJ_iUrXKZQi_TVfG1jLHHpuGkZaRDg_pjSTK6QMahfggmjnzsOTjPJ8D0BXZQ/s320/DSC_0152.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367349220160281442" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Potted plants that actually thrived for once!:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aH3ZzVds1mD70VluHOgLUhfc1q2koYcWir5JxcpMp4Is8sp5hMRiTmo1u-rhteuUIUo7ZqVkTdYCDlaMqb7IIWyK1zy8zENxzzod3Zmi52k7YkIEWZHcvuHqQf8FIXJK5SatAdOXOjk/s1600-h/DSC_0089Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aH3ZzVds1mD70VluHOgLUhfc1q2koYcWir5JxcpMp4Is8sp5hMRiTmo1u-rhteuUIUo7ZqVkTdYCDlaMqb7IIWyK1zy8zENxzzod3Zmi52k7YkIEWZHcvuHqQf8FIXJK5SatAdOXOjk/s320/DSC_0089Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367349224537952658" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnS7S3xBPdqRFDhUFHXi5u7a8EA02CKKflysFB3BCVXjQTeuIQrTTMYz4ZrH_mNG6KIZ4uMyNMsInS1rNTHEWm3WiBQvGQN5hBoNyTeDDBbXqyAC9ThjzrRibhIoF_ZuQ7gYuEpD5g0Dk/s1600-h/DSC_0086.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnS7S3xBPdqRFDhUFHXi5u7a8EA02CKKflysFB3BCVXjQTeuIQrTTMYz4ZrH_mNG6KIZ4uMyNMsInS1rNTHEWm3WiBQvGQN5hBoNyTeDDBbXqyAC9ThjzrRibhIoF_ZuQ7gYuEpD5g0Dk/s320/DSC_0086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367350685926249282" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">The chicken that got transplanted onto our street:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcCgBVC_IEZ3wgHH0pgnC9oda1prOaJQEjRQJ0sc7XVeB-s-UXuoNzB7A9s7ECaA3jM6s3IIKAu-EVMTN4icD9tz2saLQ7wPb-a4m6sUjvKWRoZtiUiDeM2_ogHaziipSel2Gh9apLhM/s1600-h/IMG_5587Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcCgBVC_IEZ3wgHH0pgnC9oda1prOaJQEjRQJ0sc7XVeB-s-UXuoNzB7A9s7ECaA3jM6s3IIKAu-EVMTN4icD9tz2saLQ7wPb-a4m6sUjvKWRoZtiUiDeM2_ogHaziipSel2Gh9apLhM/s320/IMG_5587Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367350691345777058" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Being roped into a spray tan party (don't ask):</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40Av1Hl_aO2tyPxaU5LysW2CTmpG7Nxu2e-25c-9F1bjkOYwTHPXuvwrkNZvDyANlsBSElcmfEShk3pHGI2KIdaqolbNIRJSPZK7XNZ-CX_AMeVW2RCgIOsK-hzMo48kjoA-w9S1873k/s1600-h/DSC_0096Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40Av1Hl_aO2tyPxaU5LysW2CTmpG7Nxu2e-25c-9F1bjkOYwTHPXuvwrkNZvDyANlsBSElcmfEShk3pHGI2KIdaqolbNIRJSPZK7XNZ-CX_AMeVW2RCgIOsK-hzMo48kjoA-w9S1873k/s200/DSC_0096Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367351551111789746" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Soccer camp with Dean from the U.K.:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByCfwE8hoVdyn2xK0CnLh1c4LA7dV49EmoDbpI5z42z24a2TTBqYob_nfG7TSjF8mSuh7xhTQrh6pHA5cYbYDo5Awi-TRaxb_vFFrBwv1bx-HDh_T57hpENs9fka5YgIAWUAtPo-rL1c/s1600-h/DSC_0121Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByCfwE8hoVdyn2xK0CnLh1c4LA7dV49EmoDbpI5z42z24a2TTBqYob_nfG7TSjF8mSuh7xhTQrh6pHA5cYbYDo5Awi-TRaxb_vFFrBwv1bx-HDh_T57hpENs9fka5YgIAWUAtPo-rL1c/s320/DSC_0121Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367351372256210450" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">And more swimming parties than I can count (thanks to Lisa and her amazing pool!):</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGnK0aDxhW2o92XnhOsPvsapI1e-vdK9yv_GWhECK1ua0cSti94UlF1AjE5saETXjonXh_fBkKldfgqo70-d26V00_swnslF-8cOY-00_xIxMHA94hW2KubGZdZkYek5b5CzTe9rYBmc/s1600-h/DSC_0103Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGnK0aDxhW2o92XnhOsPvsapI1e-vdK9yv_GWhECK1ua0cSti94UlF1AjE5saETXjonXh_fBkKldfgqo70-d26V00_swnslF-8cOY-00_xIxMHA94hW2KubGZdZkYek5b5CzTe9rYBmc/s320/DSC_0103Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367350706178386034" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1WjALQwRQDHmxEI2IM8WiCMUHbW8qzEs95LkQEqiwEN_AwbgbzHqwv6d7rtgqocUJiRuTINJDWAw5AKxzHUwrFZRdosQWHPmKQWxD2M-Bvcpz5Xs3-y4MlDzBlZXM3YQa9BbkDmF39N0/s1600-h/DSC_0099Small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1WjALQwRQDHmxEI2IM8WiCMUHbW8qzEs95LkQEqiwEN_AwbgbzHqwv6d7rtgqocUJiRuTINJDWAw5AKxzHUwrFZRdosQWHPmKQWxD2M-Bvcpz5Xs3-y4MlDzBlZXM3YQa9BbkDmF39N0/s320/DSC_0099Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367350695966334146" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-66342563848559170362009-07-09T07:03:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:10:57.033-11:00An early lesson in gender differencesI have a friend a few blocks over who has a pool. A gorgeous pool with waterfalls and a waterslide, all built-in amidst the almost-real rock cliffs that surround it. Lucky for us, she is a very generous friend and has extended an open-pool invitation for every Wednesday afternoon. Unlucky for us, she's trying to sell the gorgeous home with the gorgeous pool. But then again, lucky for us, the housing market has bottomed out here and she can't get a decent price for all of that gorgeousness. (For some reason, she doesn't to see that as lucky. Go figure.)<br /><br />Lucky for you, I'm done with all the lucky/unluckydness.<br /><br />Yesterday, being Wednesday, we went to said friend's said pool, and it was wonderful! The great part about her pool as opposed to the pool at our gym is that the girls have their friends to play with. (Which is why it's like pulling teeth to get my girls to go swimming at the gym. Me: "We are going swimming and that is THAT." Poor, tortured girls. But that's another story...)<br /><br />So, the pool population yesterday consisted of 4 girls and 4 boys. They had a double bed floaty thing in there, which the girls got to be on first. So they all decided to play a game: the boys try to steal the floaty thing from the girls. And here's how it went:<br /><br />Girls: "You boys try and get the floaty from us."<br />Boys attack.<br />Girls scream: "NO, NO, NOOOOO. WAIT!!! You boys go to that end of the pool and plan how to attack. We girls go to this end of the pool and plan how to keep you off. Then we meet in the middle."<br />All pause momentarily.<br />Boys attack.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-49548071155633117442009-07-07T11:11:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:12:06.575-11:00My FFA Father Would Be Proud<span style="font-family:arial;">I am a farmer. There, I said it. Like the good men and women who fostered our great land in its infancy, I till the earth and harvest its bounties for the nourishment of all mankind.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><span style="font-family:arial;">And just like my forefathers, I get very little respect for all of my labors. In fact, I am mocked and ridiculed. . . IN MY OWN HOME.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Why is it that the tradition of farming is not appreciated and revered like it should be? What would man be without the fruits of the land to sustain him? </span> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">If you are appalled as I am regarding this injustice to hard-working, honest farmers everywhere, then stand up and be heard. Write my husband and tell him that he should support and praise me, perhaps even till the earth side-by-side with me once-in-while. End the ridicule and tell him that “YES! Once and for all, online farming IS real farming!!!”</p><span style="font-family:arial;">Are you with me?? </span>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-8615432526794645562009-07-01T13:57:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:12:49.065-11:00It rocks to be a Williams!Like I said earlier, we had the Williams Family Reunion a couple of weeks ago. It's a three night event, once every two years, and this just happened to be our year to be in charge. (I can't really complain, since cancer bought me several years of being skipped over. Just one of the many perks.) My brother, Randy, and his wife, Cheri, were very kind in offering to help throughout the whole process. We found the most amazing inn up at Bear Lake where all 64 of us could sleep under one roof!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdggk_l9qtGQk0A0ER-eNCtz_YEaaPGyzfdoaS16f4KjRpOh6-aCmSSpQK7pbZcuKrI0G4DXGNzFXDfvj5NiSi9L5R8JQmtJXdjZFHLcuaAEhI3pOsnFVoloPRvOf25shd3t-PIQM23A0/s1600-h/InnAtTheLake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdggk_l9qtGQk0A0ER-eNCtz_YEaaPGyzfdoaS16f4KjRpOh6-aCmSSpQK7pbZcuKrI0G4DXGNzFXDfvj5NiSi9L5R8JQmtJXdjZFHLcuaAEhI3pOsnFVoloPRvOf25shd3t-PIQM23A0/s320/InnAtTheLake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353672381436381410" border="0" /></a>It had 17+ rooms in it, each with its own bathroom, jacuzzi tub, fireplace and TV. It had a pool, as well as a large sports field. Honestly, once we found that place, I was much less stressed about the activities side of the reunion. I knew that if nothing else, we could just hang out there and be happy! In fact, with such an unusually rainy June, it was up-in-the-air as to whether or not we'd even be able to be outside! Fortunately, we totally lucked out, and didn't get rained out on any of our activities. Very amazing, considering it poured and poured in Salt Lake the whole time. (In fact, we came home to news-making flooding situations all around us in Draper.)<br /><br />We all went to Minnetonka Caves, which was really quite impressive. Here's some of my great-nephews and nieces. (Yes, they are all great in the wonderful sense, but they are also great in the 'children of my nieces and nephews sense,' just so there's no confusion.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnPmQ3ICSS7vttzeXdX3jJZzqpthN1_Ocw-sqkNJPh09tLOVPaIsoZK0RTkp7vummFC6fAq4YQlEN9fqCzzrD53EARRLFmrAAopq1MhgGxWE2J2G2pzbfl4rJYhLc2iJbFO-hX0ysO5Y/s1600-h/DSC_0121Radiant.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnPmQ3ICSS7vttzeXdX3jJZzqpthN1_Ocw-sqkNJPh09tLOVPaIsoZK0RTkp7vummFC6fAq4YQlEN9fqCzzrD53EARRLFmrAAopq1MhgGxWE2J2G2pzbfl4rJYhLc2iJbFO-hX0ysO5Y/s320/DSC_0121Radiant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353675834384847970" border="0" /></a>And here's a shot of the family:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYB4T6mE7MmSWEmLvDNlMi-B2rG7UEXPjZG6RwyDn9eg_5JJRURbS72uijzSrwDHkUG-J91D5JlSPqVhuzBrDVhfe1Nzr2sz8LrhjxbBcB2-iCTpohoUjg-DmynwBP9RC_WQw4IdYoZQ/s1600-h/DSC_0119.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYB4T6mE7MmSWEmLvDNlMi-B2rG7UEXPjZG6RwyDn9eg_5JJRURbS72uijzSrwDHkUG-J91D5JlSPqVhuzBrDVhfe1Nzr2sz8LrhjxbBcB2-iCTpohoUjg-DmynwBP9RC_WQw4IdYoZQ/s320/DSC_0119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353688197010977538" border="0" /></a><br />The last full day, we had five Somalie refugees children come (Thanks Paul and Merrie!!) and hang out with us. They went on a hike with us and swam and ate and played games. Here's our friend Said (Sigh-eed) with Shnookies 1&2 on the hike:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTrhOBjTcB0czqCPRpoJJh1eVjGIw4bawYrTOGFTXAo9QTnHE4xzZX7z8FOpRKkC827flSKyCtcohPc6kfcXOm3Uw46pT5D1wJquJIyu9vjdymZyq7rbwfh5w-yOvPNq7_TF9rdsUReE/s1600-h/DSC_0181Edit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTrhOBjTcB0czqCPRpoJJh1eVjGIw4bawYrTOGFTXAo9QTnHE4xzZX7z8FOpRKkC827flSKyCtcohPc6kfcXOm3Uw46pT5D1wJquJIyu9vjdymZyq7rbwfh5w-yOvPNq7_TF9rdsUReE/s320/DSC_0181Edit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353677286368789410" border="0" /></a>And here's my niece, Alisha, walking with little Imbio:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTNppxYbHdGE6qoNDuPixM_P5AvB5VHknrqOireYcnd2BRNcFATUbEMlKqI25K5obaZgUZxPquAnsb0G-6K5qCpO57osMNYSIOyxGziE1uQcSoloQuJUbvLJf5F4nG8d_9MVtKMz17_I/s1600-h/DSC_0167.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTNppxYbHdGE6qoNDuPixM_P5AvB5VHknrqOireYcnd2BRNcFATUbEMlKqI25K5obaZgUZxPquAnsb0G-6K5qCpO57osMNYSIOyxGziE1uQcSoloQuJUbvLJf5F4nG8d_9MVtKMz17_I/s320/DSC_0167.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353677976883794978" border="0" /></a><br />And speaking of Imbio (7 yrs old), it turns out that she and her little sister, Isha (4 yrs old), LOVE to swim. Unfortunately, they have no idea HOW to swim. And even more unfortunately, this does not stop them from jumping into the deep end, over and over again. Apparently, while I was napping, they had to be saved from drowning several times. Thanks Ashlee and Shnookies!<br /><br />The funniest thing that happened at the reunion (and there were many!) was when my mom was telling us about being pulled over by the police the day before. She's describing how she was lost and not paying attention, and then she says this: "So, after the policeman tasered me..." In the pause she took for a breath, we all got the same picture in our head, and then the laughing erupted. Oh my gosh, I haven't laughed that hard for a long time. She meant to say he metered her with the laser gun, but... I still chuckle when I think about it.<br /><br />The sweetest thing that happened at the reunion (again, out of many) was when my two oldest brothers each did one of my dad's readings--Foolish Questions and Casey at the Bat. These are something my dad was asked to do on many social occasions, and certainly at every reunion. Randy and Marc worked hard to prepare, and they both did great. I was amazed they could get through without choking up. I know the rest of us were. It's still hard to believe he's not with us. Maybe because he is.<br /><br />I loved everything about this reunion. For me, waking up and running into a brother or sister out in the hall was like heaven. The little kids ran around and played, and it was fun to interact with them. Everyone seemed comfortable, and it was just a joy. I had lots of help, so once the whole thing was under way, I was able to relax and take it all in. I'm exhausted now (still), but I would do it again in a heartbeat!erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-20819886878430360182009-06-20T11:30:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:13:04.922-11:00Hard to BelieveWe got back from my family reunion today, and it was wonderful. I will probably need to sleep for 2 days straight, but it's a small price to pay. I've got tons of great pics and memories to share, but that will be for another post. The 2nd day of the reunion we got word that my mother-in-law, Dixie passed away. She was 90 years old, and of course you expect those things to happen, but it was still such a shock. She's been a big part of our lives for the last couple of years. It's just hard to believe she's gone.<br /><br />Having this happen while we were miles away at the reunion seemed like horrible timing at first (not that there IS a good time for death, of course...), but I think being surrounded by so much family was good for us. Everyone was very supportive. Even Hubby, who was surrounded by non-blood relatives (NBRs--sorry Mom, but I think it should stay) seemed to be buoyed up. We had to pull the kids out of their fun activities to tell them, and it was very emotional. Having cousins to go back to really helped them.<br /><br />Saying "She's in a better place now" is certainly one of those trite but true statements for Dixie. I know people mean heaven when they say that; in this case, however, it's more than just that. Dixie was pretty much 'lost' for the last 4 years...lost in a world of confusion that robbed her of a lot of joy. How wonderful it must be for her to once again be the spunky, articulate woman she was...to be able to HEAR again, and to see things as they really were and are without that fog of confusion and mistrust that had plagued her recently. It makes me smile to think of her up there, re-connecting with her loved ones, and mixing it up with the locals. It was probably a day to remember for the staff at the pearly gates!<br /><br />I've often wondered if I'd be heavy with regret when she passed on. I wasn't always so patient with her, and there were times the frustration with her illness overshadowed the love. I'm happy to report that--so far, anyway--I'm just reminded of the good times and grateful to have been a part of them. I'm sad that they've ended, and still in a little shock.<br /><br />Checking our caller ID today, I saw the call from her care center to give us the news, and then just 2 calls before that, a call from her. That's how it feels when you lose someone you love...they're there, and then suddenly they're just not. It reminds me again of what a blessing it is to know the bigger picture. It doesn't take away the sting, but it certainly pads the void.<br /><br />Here's to you, Mom!erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-42132561333453221042009-05-26T13:29:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:15:49.510-11:00Yeah, He's BiggishI was wondering yesterday how many times a week I hear the term 'big dog.' Usually, I hear it in this sentence: "That is a BIG dog!" A lot of times I hear just a snippet of someone's sentence as they pass by, but that snippet always contains 'big' and I know what they are talking about. My favorite is when a car drives by and a big-eyed someone sees him. They're yelling at everyone else in car, and through their open window, it sounds something like this: "<span style="font-size:78%;">look <span style="font-size:85%;">at <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">that </span><span style="font-size:180%;">big</span></span></span></span> <span style="font-size:130%;">dog! <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:85%;">It's</span> <span style="font-size:78%;">huge!!"</span></span></span><br /><br />I was out working in the front yard this weekend. I'm right there next to the road, and Boozer is resting in the shade. A car is going by, when it suddenly slows way down. I think "Oh look! It's our neighbors! They want to stop and say hi!" and I start waving and walking toward the car. That's when I see an unfamiliar man and woman in it, and they aren't looking at me. They and their dropped jaws are looking at the dog. He's behind a bunch of flowers and tucked back in the shadows, but somehow they saw him. I might as well be a potted plant. Hmph! I guess I should be glad that they're amazed by his incredible size, and not by mine!<br /><br />We think Boozer is getting close to his final stature, but it's hard to tell. His breed can grow for up to 2 years, and he's only 18 months old. We haven't weighed him lately, but I'd guess he's around 150 lbs. That officially makes him the heaviest in our household. Add that to hairiest, hungriest, smelliest, mellowest. On a good day (when he hasn't chewed up, sneezed on, trampled over or vomitted on something I treasure), I'd have to also give him the cutest. Cute, ya know, in a ginormous drooling sort of way.<br /><br />Here he is last night, after we all got home. He was so happy to see us, so he was running around like a madman, er dog.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvQKn80CsmZNqhOaVuwvsCzfZqKxGAJKa2NtrRXUzUzOiK83Vclree_29JflyaxRc7ljTkquVqi7pziVAt3gij544FYwOnhqQu6gfd_CaqpNAe4vRmP_Nisqol5FOpfM9q7Ae9Gmyiq0/s1600-h/DSC_0046Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvQKn80CsmZNqhOaVuwvsCzfZqKxGAJKa2NtrRXUzUzOiK83Vclree_29JflyaxRc7ljTkquVqi7pziVAt3gij544FYwOnhqQu6gfd_CaqpNAe4vRmP_Nisqol5FOpfM9q7Ae9Gmyiq0/s320/DSC_0046Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340311592362274210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGajiCyfX41RoXiVvvnuw1Bh9359d21dk6BVdyYb7NDyLQFtErmviwx3VvKlXokj2bqDM1FCracpwZn2mAQqBRYaR23EovaSpk4Io_Riaplry_6W7AMS0NkT9RrzNNU6cyW4BLQs8Ugo/s1600-h/DSC_0050Web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGajiCyfX41RoXiVvvnuw1Bh9359d21dk6BVdyYb7NDyLQFtErmviwx3VvKlXokj2bqDM1FCracpwZn2mAQqBRYaR23EovaSpk4Io_Riaplry_6W7AMS0NkT9RrzNNU6cyW4BLQs8Ugo/s320/DSC_0050Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340311400846291826" border="0" /></a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-71260239325375107562009-04-23T10:06:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:17:06.433-11:00Bahama Mama Checks InI have been on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. It’s been 2 weeks since we’ve been home, and yet I have not blogged about it. Here is why: I’m overwhelmed. It’s just too big to encapsulate, YKWIM? So I’ve hoped that by waiting awhile, it’d distill down to a single blog post nugget. Well, it hasn’t. But I’m willing to try finally.<br /><br />Our whole family went to the Bahamas over spring break. It was awesome. The End.<br /><br />All sorts of people ask “How was your trip to trip to the Bahamas?” And I say it was awesome. That’s pretty much all you can say unless the person has an hour to kill. One of my friends asked that exact question, and then immediately said “That’s a stupid question. It’s like asking ‘Are cookies yummy?’ We all know the answer. No one says ‘The trip was awful.’” Exactly.<br /><br />So let’s just review some photos. You have an hour to kill, right??<br />First, you need to know the setting. Here’s our hotel, Atlantis on Paradise Island. It’s on the island of Nassau, Bahamas (technically New Providence Island, but no one calls it that). Paradise Island is actually an island off of Nassau, connected by a bridge. Pretty much the whole island is taken up by the Atlantis Resort. That baby is H-U-G-E. Here is a pic from our first foray out onto the beach. In it, you can see just one of the six separate hotels that make up the resort.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRIUksNI6WInVJtKILbBNMUfwY1VRS_HxREJbquVk3AIxwN1t5zlWWb9NoWsRBaXHbqHH9TCSDGf9AckV7ZTOJOfLxBqPFp0bYSiI5Mx9pqFOheD4b-ZzG8Re-mfcIswkTWB8ilDAO8c/s1600-h/DSC_0032.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRIUksNI6WInVJtKILbBNMUfwY1VRS_HxREJbquVk3AIxwN1t5zlWWb9NoWsRBaXHbqHH9TCSDGf9AckV7ZTOJOfLxBqPFp0bYSiI5Mx9pqFOheD4b-ZzG8Re-mfcIswkTWB8ilDAO8c/s400/DSC_0032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327997129273287186" /></a><br />You’ll also notice nary a cloud in the sky. Beyond perfect weather the whole time: low of 70, high of 84. Yummy.<br /><br />I lost track of how many swimming pools there were, but this is the one closest to us. It was right off the beach, so we didn’t spend much time there. Why would you when you can be on the BEACH, afterall. But isn’t it pretty?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigl2mz-ufvFaL-rHHinbc9eyVpXKtjz9QJ4NxFMyPtMwqf5sziqQchsGzzRSnFwtkqcMQPHwpC7O9yB0P9jl_PSTqNx_TIdcKazjLn1xLhKQf5LGfM4ysLGnAtdRsweveyDSGoGQPYkAY/s1600-h/DSC_0028.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigl2mz-ufvFaL-rHHinbc9eyVpXKtjz9QJ4NxFMyPtMwqf5sziqQchsGzzRSnFwtkqcMQPHwpC7O9yB0P9jl_PSTqNx_TIdcKazjLn1xLhKQf5LGfM4ysLGnAtdRsweveyDSGoGQPYkAY/s400/DSC_0028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327997920625698578" /></a><br />Attached to this swimming pool was the most gorgeous lazy river I’ve ever seen. I told Hubby--who has been pushing a backyard swimming pool since the beginning of time—that I would agree to that lazy river in our yard. But he’d have to recreate it EXACTLY as it is, including all the birds and tropical flowers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPhIZ-NBQUhhc65fH5_CbMp1ukpu4zrze4Sut2s6Mh7QjK7GNV5xa88ru6UNcsaDp8A5bVrlsXPYGWkZ0AvcgHc78jRCjwtS6k2eiyt8zdC3HqKiii8d76OihEKnmuAybVMQuce0IdB0/s1600-h/DSC_0112.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPhIZ-NBQUhhc65fH5_CbMp1ukpu4zrze4Sut2s6Mh7QjK7GNV5xa88ru6UNcsaDp8A5bVrlsXPYGWkZ0AvcgHc78jRCjwtS6k2eiyt8zdC3HqKiii8d76OihEKnmuAybVMQuce0IdB0/s400/DSC_0112.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327998602242810786" /></a><br /><br />Near that lazy river is a waterfall we passed every day, but then we passed hundreds of these every day--the whole resort is lush and groomed to the nth degree.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkE2BVANObDGSt7UCOQDIwEVewGKOL082oLmNGJ-ABG3lrpNSeK5zujuyA9etmD1Cjxlq38w6twii4Q1cm1al2cj6M8pGffDNfU-Z28UuVQDErWCHeLDPme3Ap7mbgJ8Am-wU6XMNjgM/s1600-h/DSC_0022.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkE2BVANObDGSt7UCOQDIwEVewGKOL082oLmNGJ-ABG3lrpNSeK5zujuyA9etmD1Cjxlq38w6twii4Q1cm1al2cj6M8pGffDNfU-Z28UuVQDErWCHeLDPme3Ap7mbgJ8Am-wU6XMNjgM/s400/DSC_0022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327999449147126146" /></a><br />Right by that waterfall is a couple of ponds—one with giant sea turtles, and one with stingrays. At certain times on certain days, a little worker guy (he’s actually normal size, not little) comes out and feeds the aquatic creatures. He gives an awesome presentation about the species, and then he lets the kids actually feed them. Here’s the stingrays. And while I was taking this pic, Shnookie3 was on the other side letting one eat a fish out of her hand. I guess the cameraman can’t be everywhere at once, dangit!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3N5p1arXGN2q0EFlk2KDNltdYFA_RX9RzZLbIGVOBmq-a30FIhatWuiQAwx_LveQIi0NB0bPrXS1rPyTqoZcwyMepkfFr1RE6gGj1ENCkzBotmJDJQkP-KTV2ee3KFJY_fCM7bIjswY/s1600-h/DSC_0059.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3N5p1arXGN2q0EFlk2KDNltdYFA_RX9RzZLbIGVOBmq-a30FIhatWuiQAwx_LveQIi0NB0bPrXS1rPyTqoZcwyMepkfFr1RE6gGj1ENCkzBotmJDJQkP-KTV2ee3KFJY_fCM7bIjswY/s400/DSC_0059.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328001972740122690" /></a><br /><br />Speaking of stingrays, all of the kids were quite taken with the sight of them. The main part of the resort has a huge underwater observatory where you can see every type of aquatic creature imaginable, and the kids loved it. Their favorite thing was the humongous stingrays, some of which were as big as our dining room. I got a cute pic of a small one, where you can see it’s little face. Isn’t it sweet??<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rpW1gDuLyZt7pSF6KTG_Zp4bd4xlRh2AjHSp0M3OlWHd0EdHe_AmoHb7X06ZMuhoejyaor384YJdNmZ6HMOY5n1MWKpcIAMG4TX6wSbJ9H5ZsjVXX2pAGnZ4hTfewoO_7UMQhzGb7s0/s1600-h/DSC_0050.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rpW1gDuLyZt7pSF6KTG_Zp4bd4xlRh2AjHSp0M3OlWHd0EdHe_AmoHb7X06ZMuhoejyaor384YJdNmZ6HMOY5n1MWKpcIAMG4TX6wSbJ9H5ZsjVXX2pAGnZ4hTfewoO_7UMQhzGb7s0/s400/DSC_0050.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328002531416027362" /></a><br /><br />The night life was a lot of fun—once we found it, lol. They had plenty of restaurants right at the resort, some of which didn’t cost a second mortgage. (It was astonishing how much everything cost. Our kids were always trying to order water and salads to save on money!) So we’d go down to this market village part of the resort every night, eat, and soak in the atmosphere. Here the kids are rockin out, Bahamian style.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJX6g8pwZ5EVHD0vgTVSS0h_6BT3XLRqXSziRh-McxI-i2OTYwQpNVsXNre2fTLGOeFiIGOcEN-SsDfh13Y87VEvACkLu4cHPUUrcL3deKBhQp-6e0IjIGH57I-pp6En_SUUE57kW-Jk/s1600-h/DSC_0137Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJX6g8pwZ5EVHD0vgTVSS0h_6BT3XLRqXSziRh-McxI-i2OTYwQpNVsXNre2fTLGOeFiIGOcEN-SsDfh13Y87VEvACkLu4cHPUUrcL3deKBhQp-6e0IjIGH57I-pp6En_SUUE57kW-Jk/s400/DSC_0137Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328003797346548690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2ybY2eabqaEMyO4r6IGF9x76L8qGe_8HFGUgsJSGvB_STPcLJAVI-dYE7XVihYnDwPcF7ev0XYZTvJL5DYQCzysmt_sEEn9LTNH69wi48lBfwSHKk2GJyDIPIEVnDvk0uW2S2ch94cE/s1600-h/DSC_0136Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2ybY2eabqaEMyO4r6IGF9x76L8qGe_8HFGUgsJSGvB_STPcLJAVI-dYE7XVihYnDwPcF7ev0XYZTvJL5DYQCzysmt_sEEn9LTNH69wi48lBfwSHKk2GJyDIPIEVnDvk0uW2S2ch94cE/s400/DSC_0136Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328003794983997842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5ECOAJGc8tI-yhnPsfcbllqnrF9wiPaCbAfbTS8uTUeaB6DfleXcpP4tW3iqKdNsOIrO5CFNY3QehgCbumF4681KOIGFSyY4_WYLcaGxHrJJcG3m1bSm4GMr69FLYQm1t9U1GRfdW1I/s1600-h/DSC_0134Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5ECOAJGc8tI-yhnPsfcbllqnrF9wiPaCbAfbTS8uTUeaB6DfleXcpP4tW3iqKdNsOIrO5CFNY3QehgCbumF4681KOIGFSyY4_WYLcaGxHrJJcG3m1bSm4GMr69FLYQm1t9U1GRfdW1I/s400/DSC_0134Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328003562010377490" /></a><br /><br />And here’s a cute family pic in the village. I know my eyes are so small it’s hard to tell if they’re open on a good day, so I’ll just tell you that, yes, they are closed. And I could shoot myself, cuz everyone else looks so good! I’ll have to push my photoshop skills to the limit and see what I can do about that.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFTf47GqFsCNuqlZpna5bnDEKQfHwxeZ2WKRBQm8c_SA9JibJ6MYurxBTaTd5dHgi9mIW-auaV1RW__q5XeerSykMtDk2gogKsLzUZ0DRlSQfjKJqloPHPiNrvslZKKZIB4_EjEldA8M/s1600-h/DSC_0276Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFTf47GqFsCNuqlZpna5bnDEKQfHwxeZ2WKRBQm8c_SA9JibJ6MYurxBTaTd5dHgi9mIW-auaV1RW__q5XeerSykMtDk2gogKsLzUZ0DRlSQfjKJqloPHPiNrvslZKKZIB4_EjEldA8M/s400/DSC_0276Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328004564829789138" /></a><br /><br />They have a giant waterslide park right there at the resort, which is free to all guests, and that was a huge hit! I didn’t get any photos, since I love my camera and do not want it at the bottom of a wild rapids ride. Just trust me that we took full advantage and had a great time. (And only a little bit of sunburn, miracles of miracles.)<br />After the water park, we found a snorkeling place, so went snorkeling with the two oldest shnookies. Man, do I love snorkeling!! And here’s the two shnookies AFTER the waterpark and snorkeling. I just can’t see this picture without cracking up. I think I see a little drool hanging from Shnook1’s lip. LOL We were all pretty tired that day!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodbn3AFqBMCU_YMOrYCa0YnyOOliFl9TTd5aTc1nEwvjcyxB4XIJJC5jM2lp1g46UtLBvaY10GBEGuSRnRM2jAv8SfK2mDySiqAkWr1sCSvk5uif_2mhtQIM0Y3Kn0YOxxSIyifDzB9w/s1600-h/DSC_0166Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodbn3AFqBMCU_YMOrYCa0YnyOOliFl9TTd5aTc1nEwvjcyxB4XIJJC5jM2lp1g46UtLBvaY10GBEGuSRnRM2jAv8SfK2mDySiqAkWr1sCSvk5uif_2mhtQIM0Y3Kn0YOxxSIyifDzB9w/s400/DSC_0166Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328006485849675826" /></a><br /><br />On Easter, we decided to attend the local LDS branch, which turned out to be such a wonderful experience! The people were so friendly--met us at the sidewalk en masse even! The PA system didn’t work, so we hardly heard anything, but we felt a lot. It reminded Hubby and I of our missions and got Shnookie1 a little excited for his. Here we are at the local branch meeting house:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qUNC6fz81Gq0EaEk6qFNxyokzewmgyYdcC6tZRx3MpF1xPREElCOy4TxJhKihv2QolczmklyucvV_Fpurs8GM8SKIS9XNdM92ZuegSMzfiyaZyIAyQRs0rc7aedX4S_pgg2lbxBmhSg/s1600-h/DSC_0184Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qUNC6fz81Gq0EaEk6qFNxyokzewmgyYdcC6tZRx3MpF1xPREElCOy4TxJhKihv2QolczmklyucvV_Fpurs8GM8SKIS9XNdM92ZuegSMzfiyaZyIAyQRs0rc7aedX4S_pgg2lbxBmhSg/s400/DSC_0184Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328006765143412402" /></a><br /><br />(I cropped this picture, since there was a lot of tree and sky above us; nevertheless, this is the best photo we had taken when a Bahamian was behind the camera. We learned quickly to ask a tourist to take our pictures, because centering is apparently NOT high on the locals’ skill set!)<br />And finally…the beach. Ahhhhh, there is nothing better. And here’s some of my favorites taken seaside:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0CgDc9-2PzT2gPRGjlFE6dLx9u_594gQqCNFO0d-5ryMI68Ulk9ryxP2fz6CbwpPCuaEmst40d9rbpglQigh3mqzJJhFMASL44VEdWvO3hwS3VZarUfFYw6nR5afhL7aLm-wZIAYzTk/s1600-h/DSC_0215Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0CgDc9-2PzT2gPRGjlFE6dLx9u_594gQqCNFO0d-5ryMI68Ulk9ryxP2fz6CbwpPCuaEmst40d9rbpglQigh3mqzJJhFMASL44VEdWvO3hwS3VZarUfFYw6nR5afhL7aLm-wZIAYzTk/s400/DSC_0215Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328007810680707586" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQ-iU5cF2QNskDrq-UJ5kYYA6Sj1T5pvL0_7i7u7hOEkDhA6b2krbvs8-dW3BkTLZbwixPrWNGZ_ac5Mkve1m2D69NQiAS9wVdNdsPnaquK_98PYnIVHfpjA28CXZHyDKcxJU6RwHVeU/s1600-h/DSC_0214BWWEb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQ-iU5cF2QNskDrq-UJ5kYYA6Sj1T5pvL0_7i7u7hOEkDhA6b2krbvs8-dW3BkTLZbwixPrWNGZ_ac5Mkve1m2D69NQiAS9wVdNdsPnaquK_98PYnIVHfpjA28CXZHyDKcxJU6RwHVeU/s400/DSC_0214BWWEb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328007803895971442" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhei21Oop3tH1CrGJ356RFwYpfr0K9DT4oy19Dg4-65Q18Q-FSg1FIexu0RHMC9xQvKUG6ckyzXNYj4Zi46RmNHpRiBf0jwYVLJ5Tkg45J9vCDFTnrFZFDViMNS3s-aOooe6LwyGm7ROqI/s1600-h/DSC_0205Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhei21Oop3tH1CrGJ356RFwYpfr0K9DT4oy19Dg4-65Q18Q-FSg1FIexu0RHMC9xQvKUG6ckyzXNYj4Zi46RmNHpRiBf0jwYVLJ5Tkg45J9vCDFTnrFZFDViMNS3s-aOooe6LwyGm7ROqI/s400/DSC_0205Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328007802535177698" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zijzDyxbamvd8NwUCrkuhZnIKDtaN0hryH9ngQRAVrfvu6lKuvOXYYRms0GIHQ5t-TlSSDNTQK4HVC_HLA6wRZqnIQWbh-QLGpprBumqPTVKCAT8EKn8NHsyACuh-UVZH200XEkXMSg/s1600-h/DSC_0031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zijzDyxbamvd8NwUCrkuhZnIKDtaN0hryH9ngQRAVrfvu6lKuvOXYYRms0GIHQ5t-TlSSDNTQK4HVC_HLA6wRZqnIQWbh-QLGpprBumqPTVKCAT8EKn8NHsyACuh-UVZH200XEkXMSg/s400/DSC_0031.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328008617400784162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7POuKpKVxRgx-DVgn7NtWf9gyOx813gk11hvfrCl-N8CSTvh1MS95fOnlcWymYRzBbSMZVdjHnsluQog9dK-8lo-2wgzQWdwjdE0tiMbm2XYyuwLiw0cO-kgW06zVg1jiIVmHMoO0mg/s1600-h/DSC_0238Edit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7POuKpKVxRgx-DVgn7NtWf9gyOx813gk11hvfrCl-N8CSTvh1MS95fOnlcWymYRzBbSMZVdjHnsluQog9dK-8lo-2wgzQWdwjdE0tiMbm2XYyuwLiw0cO-kgW06zVg1jiIVmHMoO0mg/s400/DSC_0238Edit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328008222023855090" /></a><br />We were in the Bahamas for six days, and I think we used our time well. I could’ve probably used one more day just to hang at the beach and pools, but whoever gets enough of paradise, right?? The trip was full of a lot of new experiences, wonder, laughs, adventures, and culture. But this is the best part:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_mJ0hg7QbWOPs9UOd4tlJTPDv4sVN5Qf7RWxqV_LFBauyzJnSpoc4NVqUosD3Rm84nxEuHkW2WjovOx4tt7ZIEXF7DfG8yGiuiiBjBDCCqKKqRr0q7nKfEit0C0ACuAx9Ysmf_uloBck/s1600-h/DSC_0180Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_mJ0hg7QbWOPs9UOd4tlJTPDv4sVN5Qf7RWxqV_LFBauyzJnSpoc4NVqUosD3Rm84nxEuHkW2WjovOx4tt7ZIEXF7DfG8yGiuiiBjBDCCqKKqRr0q7nKfEit0C0ACuAx9Ysmf_uloBck/s400/DSC_0180Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328009165852476098" /></a><br /><br />It was full of a lot of the affection and care that makes a family what it is. And that is why we went. And that is what I’ll remember the most.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_pfG3DWEH_i7xIuvIg8Xhju7ycIWXaTY2WGfqfaAA1IAdY0FPaf6z3Z-M2MKkIZ8ejFa4Ft_NHWov7exanId-P_o0bbhAmRvFw77foBXqginmLXGlK1CY3vNq-GTDFHxzvvA8jqNF-4/s1600-h/DSC_0171Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_pfG3DWEH_i7xIuvIg8Xhju7ycIWXaTY2WGfqfaAA1IAdY0FPaf6z3Z-M2MKkIZ8ejFa4Ft_NHWov7exanId-P_o0bbhAmRvFw77foBXqginmLXGlK1CY3vNq-GTDFHxzvvA8jqNF-4/s400/DSC_0171Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328009415404283666" /></a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-46863150963242934982009-04-02T06:24:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:17:49.145-11:00Hopefully he'll be an heir to the tennis shoe fortuneLast night, Shnookie4 shared some more of her future plans with Hubby. It turns out, she already knows her future husbands name. It shall be .... <span style="font-weight:bold;">Zeke Puma</span>.<br /><br />Bear in mind, we do not know any Pumas, nor any Zekes for that matter. I do not know where she came up with this mystery man. What I do know is that it's a good thing for me, in that she will not get married until she's 40. It will take her at least that long to find a man with that exact random name. A wise parent would probably advise her to aim for something more common...maybe a Michael Smith...but who am I to tamper with the inspiration given to a 9 year old girl?<br /><br />And we have more information on the Puma's future home. It will be filled with five little Pumas, all with their own rooms, the decor of each having already been determined. As for Mr. Puma, his room will be a baseball room. Mrs. Puma? A jungle room. Hubby's response: "But won't you two share a room?"<br /><br />Shnookie: "No, we will have separate rooms."<br />Hubby: "But won't Zeke be sad not too share a room with you?"<br />Shnookie: "TOO BAD."erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-33953894603760467052009-03-30T05:37:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:19:26.522-11:00Our Little PlannerShnookie4 has reached that ripe old age of nine, where you start to look ahead and plan in minute detail the next 72 years of your life. Isn't your nine-year-old doing that? (Heck, I have a 17-yr-old who struggles to plan the next 72 MINUTES of his life.)<br /><br />The other night, Hubby was tucking Shnookie4 into bed, and she says:<br /><br />"I've been making some plans. When I grow up I want a nice house. Nothing too big, but just kinda big. (<span style="font-style:italic;">Describes every detail of the backyard</span>)I want to decorate the house so that it's colorful but not too flashy. Like I want a room in two main colors, with just a <span style="font-style:italic;">hint</span> of a third color."<br /><br />Do you thing HGTV is on too much in our house?<br /><br />Then a few days ago, after school, she tells me:<br /><br />"Mom, I've decided that when I grow up, I want to be a genius in college."<br /><br />I'm so glad she's pacing herself. There's just no use wasting genius on public school. She's gonna save it for the big leagues.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-11547934946232328192009-03-21T11:28:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:20:21.394-11:00Once again, Target changes my lifeSo I got one of my wild hairs the other day. I was actually at the doctor with my mother-in-law, Dixie, and I was reading about organization in a magazine. It suggested keeping a folder with you of little things you need to do--thank you notes, bills, etc--so that if you're waiting somewhere (oh say, at a doctor's office), you can get those little things done. The lightbulb went on, which in turn triggered a wild hair, and I was at Target that very afternoon looking for that very thing. What I found was PERFECTION, and I don't just throw that word around lightly. Perfection for me entails the following formula: <br />something even better than I'd envisioned in my wildest dreams<br /> + <br />the possibility of embellishing<br /> + <br />off the clearance rack. <br /><br />She shoots, she scores!! <br />These beauties were all of the above, cardboard and canvas portable file purse-like thingys. (Yes, that's what the label said. Prove me wrong.) I was prepared to use them straight off the shelf, but those cardboard sides screamed at me "paper me, embellish me, make me all that I can be!" (These are obviously file thingys with some military tendencies.)<br /><br />So, I did.<br /><br />I made one for my neighbor for her b-day, and one for me, and one more because I just couldn't stop myself. And now a picture:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-ouAk4TupSsVLh6sp2nUdpUjNR9P9cj0nlIA_TpIeIdtpIVGob-Fg_nsVfga_rASd6zeNbpSgJiQGLi7GgjUUVGee3KDglgO2FFX93vCI5qnBeWG0iiG1rZCl8NpjkjbhuKbUKljRaQ/s1600-h/PaperFileBox.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 376px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-ouAk4TupSsVLh6sp2nUdpUjNR9P9cj0nlIA_TpIeIdtpIVGob-Fg_nsVfga_rASd6zeNbpSgJiQGLi7GgjUUVGee3KDglgO2FFX93vCI5qnBeWG0iiG1rZCl8NpjkjbhuKbUKljRaQ/s400/PaperFileBox.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315775368854942946" /></a><br /><br />I am going to fill mine with not only the things they suggested, but also those random magazines/catalogs that are just too cool to throw away before looking through, and the school newsletters I need to read, and all of the other stuff I never seem to get to. (maybe the dishes??) Then when I'm waiting in the car for a kid to get out of practice, I can whip something out, do it, and feel triumphant.<br /><br />That mom driving down the street in her minivan with a smug smile on her face? That will be me.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-21734864201749560132009-03-12T08:03:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:20:55.241-11:00867-530ni-i-ine.....plus 1 80wu-uh-uh-nIt has happened to Utah. We now have to dial 1+our area code to call our next door neighbors. It’s such a pain! Seriously, now it’s more efficient to just run next door rather than dial ALL ELEVEN DIGITS. And it’s even worse for me, because I just cannot adapt. So I end up dialing EIGHTEEN digits by the time I dial the old way, get the ‘wee-WEE-wee I’m sorry…” lady, and re-dial the new way. It’s been like ten days since they made the change, and I’m still doing it wrong 90% of the time! Do you realize how many precious minutes of my life have been wasted by this conspiracy?<br /><br />Let me just admit right here that numbers are not my friends. I can remember the name of every dog in a 6-block radius, but do not expect me to retain anything number-oriented in my brain. Thus, it takes me FOR.EV.ER to learn a new phone number. I’ve had the same cell phone for 3 years, and I still have to ask my kids for the number. If someone tells me a phone number and I have to dial it 2 seconds later, I will get every digit wrong. Hubby changed his work number five months ago, and I never call him, because I CAN’T REMEMBER THE NUMBER. (Hmm…this sheds some light on WHY he changed the number…)<br /><br />OK, so I believe I have established that I am number challenged. Add this area code debacle into the mix, and I’m practically paralyzed. You know how you spend 5 minutes looking up a number and then close the phone book while it’s dialing? Yup. I get the ‘I’m sorry…’ lady every time and have to start all over. I’m a mess. My kids are going hungry, I don’t have time to shower, and I’ve lost all of my money to the swearing jar.<br /><br />AND IT’S NOT JUST ME!! My own mother didn’t call me for a week, because she’d had me on speed dial and couldn’t find my number! (Which is why, BTW, I never put anyone on speed dial—if I do, I’ll never be forced to remember their number and I’ll be unable to contact them in an emergency. As I’ve plainly demonstrated, this is just such an emergency.) Our friends live in a gated community, and no one could get in or out for a couple days until they re-programmed the gate for their new phone numbers. SEE?? These things have global repercussions! It’s no coincidence that the economy started tanking at the exact same moment the state of Utah hatched this inane plan.<br /><br />If you’d like to discuss this matter at length, give me a call. I’d call you but, well………duh!erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-33307409794697440932009-03-02T04:35:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:21:20.360-11:00!!YADHTRIB YPPAHShnookie4 turned the ripe old age of nine this week. Despite all of the begging, guilt-tripping, subliminal images and unwilling hypnotism, the child just will not conform to my anti-growing wishes. I don't know what to do with her!! I just can't get through to her, and I'm at my wits end. She's even resisting now when I swaddle her and rock her to sleep at night with a bottle. I blame it on that public school we send her to. They are just way too liberal with their 'grow up and be yourself' dribble.<br /><br />So we threw a big party for the rebellious child. It was a backwards party, and the TEN girls she invited had a great time. The mom did not. I NEVER have let the kids invite more than seven friends to their parties, because...well...I'm just not THAT mom. I know my limitations (see last post about terrorizing innocent children). It was a weak moment when I told Shnookie4 she could invite all 10 of her friends. It was Tuesday...the party was Friday...and I was sure that most of them would not be able to come. Apparently, these are 8-yr-olds with very little on their plates, because there they were--every single one of them--amped up on sugar and ready to par-teh. Here they are in a rare physically restrained moment (you can't tell, but all of their mouths were still working a million miles a minute):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn74rD2MPjy3JNQzleia73z588a5-MBzB8EvW8GvkrQWls-GRkzmpD_KYxEjtU0o01qmK0v9OQxWq60EFMnyf23VClGL_07vMEHrjApCyo-3yQ1O4HcRKqUNVZcimVh3bOvy3ENR3QeCg/s1600-h/DSC_0019Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 203px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn74rD2MPjy3JNQzleia73z588a5-MBzB8EvW8GvkrQWls-GRkzmpD_KYxEjtU0o01qmK0v9OQxWq60EFMnyf23VClGL_07vMEHrjApCyo-3yQ1O4HcRKqUNVZcimVh3bOvy3ENR3QeCg/s320/DSC_0019Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308621372659678162" /></a><br /><br />We played 'pin the donkey on the tail,' silent chairs (walk around the chairs in silence, sit when the music STARTS), backwards relays, ate the upside-down cupcakes UNDER the table, said 'goodbye' instead of 'hello,' and all sorts of other silliness. Of course, the kids thought it was great fun to tell me 'yes' when they meant 'no' and let me try to figure out what they meant. I was so over that within minutes!<br /><br />It was wild. One of the gentler, meeker souls that attended the party literally ran out the door when her mom came to pick her up. The mom was inside talking to me, and her daughter was out in the car, buckled up and ready to jet. It was that crazy of a party.<br /><br />Now we just have to send out the thank-you invitation notes (because we sent out the thank you notes as invitations--written backwards of course. It's all backwards--get it?) and it will all be behind me.<br /><br />That was Friday, and on Saturday, we had a much more relaxed day. We had our Somalie friends, Rugia and Fatuma come stay the day with us. They are sisters who were relocated in Utah from a Somalian refugee camp. (I can't imagine two places more different than Somalia and Utah, but it is what it is, I guess!) We went swimming and the girls played a lot of Wii, and they seemed to have a great time. Aren't they gorgeous??<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTC2Dr8gJ1vVUFc8M07ZnUXSpNFmjG8_N25w0dEgzvLZWPttxnjI4duphvzaC9m27dCvx1Mw5ciOqIehR3_f4rFenCrhgPBQJR-iU3eh7niX3OxLNN5tkoY7r5rSEBtBIrIwiHNkZ67w/s1600-h/DSC_0026Web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTC2Dr8gJ1vVUFc8M07ZnUXSpNFmjG8_N25w0dEgzvLZWPttxnjI4duphvzaC9m27dCvx1Mw5ciOqIehR3_f4rFenCrhgPBQJR-iU3eh7niX3OxLNN5tkoY7r5rSEBtBIrIwiHNkZ67w/s320/DSC_0026Web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308625056810745858" /></a>erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-37045411461680018662009-02-28T14:53:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:21:41.242-11:00And in my spare time I torture puppiesI have had one of those do-everything-all-at-the-same-time-and-then-do-some-more weeks. It’s like everyone else’s calendars read “if you have something to do that involves Erin, plan it for this week.” It’s a giant conspiracy, I tell ya. (It’s not being paranoid if it’s true, btw.)<br /> <br />At the very least, the grade school had it out for me, because I had 3 major commitments there, two of which required me to teach and herd boatloads of children. I’m pretty sure they’ll never invite me back, based on how grouchy I was by the third visit. I know there’s one 5th grade boy in particular who will sleep with one eye open from now on.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Good place to insert soapbox…</span> Why is it that so many of today’s kids think they rule the world? I’m no “kids should be seen and not heard” person (well…55% of the time), but really—-do they have to talk ALL of the time? And with that much attitude? I swear there are too many parents who are literally afraid of their kids, and can’t say “Hey, maybe when an adult speaks to you, you shouldn’t mock them to their face.” Well, those parents better sleep with one eye open too, cause I’ve got their number. That’s right, world wide web, I’m calling out wimpy parents everywhere.<br /><br />Okay, raise your hand if you’re never leaving me alone with your kids again. (Heck, I've got my own hand raised. This chic is s-c-a-r-y.)erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-1573064062311411532009-02-15T05:22:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:22:32.874-11:00Stalker Mom Hits PaydirtI know I've mentioned before that my oldest child is not much into communication...at least not with us. Judging by his texting record, he knows how to do it--A LOT. <br /><br />Let's be honest, though, how teens text can hardly be called communication. "You suck." "No, You suck." "No YOU suck" "Huh-uh" "Uh-huh" and so on. (And oops--I actually included punctuation there for a second. As if.) I've texted with my son. He answers most of my queries with "You would" or "Maybe" as in:<br /><br />(Me) I need you to come home for dinner.<br />(Him) You would<br />(Me) So you'll be home at 6:00?<br />(Him) Maybe<br />(Me) I'm going to be upset if you're not here.<br />(Him) You would<br /><br />(To be fair, he always does what I ask him to, so I enjoy his sarcastic little answers. I might even do the same to him. But admitting all of that would ruin my point, so let's pretend this paragraph doesn't exist.)<br /><br />When I succumbed to the Facebook pressure, I hesitantly sent a friend invitation to my son. I could just picture him cringing at the thought of letting his mom into this corner of his life. I was pleasantly surprised when he accepted my invitation right away (not with any fanfare, mind you--there was no "Look everyone! My mom's here! Hooray!!!).<br /><br />Having access to my son's Facebook wall has opened up a whole new world of deep communication for us. He's pretty diligent about updating his status on there. Sure, most of the time what he posts makes absolutely no sense (which is the way he likes it IMHO.), such as this one: "<span style="font-style:italic;">Shnookie 1</span> is rain master." Ooooookaaaaay...<br /><br />HOWEVER, a lot of the time I get more out of his little one-liner synopses than I could ever gather from 3 sentences of forced face-to-face conversation. For example, yesterday I bopped on over there and found this little gem: "<span style="font-style:italic;">Shnookie 1</span> is happy with everything that's going on." Whoa. That's just too much information for mom to handle--especially in complete sentence format. He almost sounds--dare I say it--like an actual mature person. <br /><br />(I wonder where he learned sarcasm?)<br /><br />It is rather ridiculous how happy Shnook 1's statement made hubby and me. If you have one of those 'can't shut them up' teenage boys (I'm sure they're out there...somewhere...maybe?), this might not make sense to you. But for ME, I'm walking on air. It's the most revealing conversation he and I have had all year.erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244875594684633386.post-47915181757993194932009-02-09T12:56:00.000-11:002009-08-26T16:23:03.813-11:00In Potty News...I am finally ready to post a picture of an entire remodeled room. We've done so much, but I hate sharing a room until it's all done, and...well...that's a difficult concept for me. I can't think of a single room in my house that I consider 'done,'and I've been at it for 11 years. (Wait--my master closet is done. But don't ask for a picture of it. I said it was done...that doesn't mean it's clean.)<br /><br />Okay, so the big whole room I'm ready to show is our powder room. (Ya know--baby steps.) And it's not done. (Surprise.) I still have to hang some art, but I can't wait that long.<br /><br />Now, keep in mind that this was Boozer's room for the first 8 months of his life, so it was trashed (thus the remodel). Try not to be frightened. Okay, so here's the before:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsJJZnuLrWpzoTIQbraq8e3iTiOhmHaDAv9aAkNyIQKgzwvOTj0rwvxciiZXdIkNJSoqnLs7u_p8pJu_-v0xw5pKXSr_ZPRAfqF8VSSkVpg6Yq6PI6k5D7zzWiRbC1jjTwU0Ilf1bBBE/s1600-h/VerticalFrame+004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsJJZnuLrWpzoTIQbraq8e3iTiOhmHaDAv9aAkNyIQKgzwvOTj0rwvxciiZXdIkNJSoqnLs7u_p8pJu_-v0xw5pKXSr_ZPRAfqF8VSSkVpg6Yq6PI6k5D7zzWiRbC1jjTwU0Ilf1bBBE/s320/VerticalFrame+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300953662109767330" /></a><br /><br />And here--ta dum, ta dum--is the after:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhroibSxropqi31OKyo1DZMj9PGgKjOJ1nVdXGx9r7AkqZCfaKDObtZmlWJUnBuBgYJI1Cj5Lc_3NtzNAZvCJ9hIro6y6LrY_bR-0RPQ30QoEvtyQnJDI3XeM1zlLT5gvK1oqNIMyjqTsU/s1600-h/DSC_0002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhroibSxropqi31OKyo1DZMj9PGgKjOJ1nVdXGx9r7AkqZCfaKDObtZmlWJUnBuBgYJI1Cj5Lc_3NtzNAZvCJ9hIro6y6LrY_bR-0RPQ30QoEvtyQnJDI3XeM1zlLT5gvK1oqNIMyjqTsU/s320/DSC_0002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300955976854969810" /></a><br /><br />I know the bright colors aren't for everyone, but wow, do I love them!! We're all a little overly giddy about the whole thing, but when you consider that we haven't been able to use this bathroom--our only main floor potty--for a year, it's a tad more understandable. It's a long hike up or down a flight of stairs when ya gotta go, KWIM?<br /><br />The moral of today's post? If you want a new bathroom, move a massive puppy into it, wait a year, and viola!erin blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17270083361706531588noreply@blogger.com6