tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37820716231061819882024-03-04T22:32:37.064-06:00Juliette TownAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-43497174453471952822013-07-21T22:38:00.001-05:002013-07-21T22:38:43.074-05:00Week 23 Bump Update!<div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: left;">
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How far along? </b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">23 weeks! Of course this is referring to this <i>past</i> week :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Total weight gain/measurements: </b>Less than a pound gained last week, so still about 13-14 lbs. total.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Maternity clothes:</b> I bought some while visiting my parents last week! Finally made it to Old Navy and bought my first every pair of maternity jeans. I think they are the greatest invention and so much more comfortable than trying to wear my regular jeans, especially in the car! I also bought of number of new shirts, none of which are truly maternity, but just have a lot more room, and all were on sale :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Stretch marks?</b> No.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Sleep:</b> Getting better. Matthew keeps encouraging me to go to bed earlier! The first part of last week was not great getting over being sick and getting ready to go out of town, but I'm hoping to get more sleep now that things are settling down. Matthew will be out of town this week however, so that means it is only me contending with Dinah in the morning. He is usually so quick to get out of bed at 6 to change her diaper and set her up with a snack and a show so I can get a few more minutes rest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Best moment this week:</b> We had such a great visit to see my parents and sisters, but it is always a treat to come home and be back with Matthew after being away. So, it's a toss up between the two!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Miss anything?</b> Not much - I love being pregnant! I have had the urge to go on a hard run or two lately, but don't actually have the desire or follow through because my body doesn't really enjoy it while pregnant :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Movement:</b> Yes,
lots of it :) One of my favorite parts of pregnancy! I joke that he (or she) is tickling me, because I've felt these really soft little brushes on my left side. Pokes and jabs that are getting harder on my right side and even up into my ribs if I'm sitting in certain positions that give the baby less room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Food cravings: </b>Nope! How boring...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Anything making you queasy or sick?</b> Food doesn't excite me much these days, but nothing made me queasy or sick this week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gender:</b> Don't know :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Labour signs:</b> Nope!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Symptoms:</b> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Too tired to think about this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Belly button in or out?</b> Out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off?</b> On.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Happy or moody most of the time:</b> Happy, unless exhausted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Looking forward to:</b> Having a baby! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My sister wanted to take pictures of me to advertise the shirts that she designed. So thanks to her, I have photos this week :)</span></div>
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Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-66937486137492937952013-07-12T22:08:00.000-05:002013-07-12T22:08:30.109-05:0022 Week Bump Update!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How far along? </b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">22 weeks and 6 days! (so, yes, I sneaked this post in before hitting 23 tomorrow!)</span>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Total weight gain/measurements: </b>about a pound this week, so that make 13 lbs. total.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Maternity clothes:</b> I have one pair of capris that are technically maternity. Other than that I've been making the old stuff work, especially a few pairs of shorts I bought just after Dinah's birth, so that have a little more room ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Stretch marks?</b> None that I have found :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Sleep:</b> Not great. The nights I woke 2-3 times to use the restroom were the good nights! For about a week I was fighting some kind of infection which made my ear ache and lymph nodes sore, and took a toll on sleep. Then Matthew got sick and was up throwing up. Then two days later, I was up till 3 am throwing up! Last night I finally got a really good night's sleep! Ahhh :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Best moment this week:</b> Feeling more and more kicking. And finally, getting over sickness!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Miss anything?</b> Being able to enjoy the sun and heat. It normally doesn't bother me at all. Now, I can stand it for a little while, but then it makes me feel a little nauseous. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Movement:</b> More and more. Like I said, I really enjoy it because it's a constant reminder that the little guy is in there. It's easy to forget when things get busy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Food cravings: </b>I was craving sweets after I got over being sick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Anything making you queasy or sick?</b> Sometimes I feel a little queasy if I eat sweets after a meal. Also the extreme heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gender:</b> Still don't know :) I went for an appointment last week, but the doctor was out on a delivery. I rescheduled for this week, but then cancelled due to being sick. Next week I am out of town, so ... we'll see. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Labour signs:</b> Nope! Oh, although I have started having the Braxton Hick's contractions. I started having them early with Dinah too, about 23 weeks. It's a good sign - makes for a healthy and toned uterus :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Symptoms:</b> My skin has been very itchy for a while now. I try and put lotion on a lot, but I think the slow stretching of the skin must override that! I've been nesting too. Cleaning and organizing and throwing a ton of things out, to make our tiny little space clean and enjoyable. I've done a ton of work and feel so much better already! This is funny because we probably won't even be living in this house once the baby is born!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Belly button in or out?</b> Out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off?</b> On.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Happy or moody most of the time:</b> Happy (except when sick!)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Looking forward to:</b> Taking a trip next week to visit my parents and sisters, and also getting to meet with a doula while I am up there. Hopefully she will be able to give us other resources for birthing in that area!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*No pictures this week. I've been bad at remembering to do that!</span>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-54909554920076523722013-07-02T23:03:00.002-05:002013-07-02T23:03:50.835-05:00Week 21 Bump Update!I really wanted to get my updates started by 20 weeks since that was a good, round number, and exactly half way through the entire pregnancy. I'm currently 21 weeks and 4 days pregnant, but it has been a huge struggle to use internet, so I'm just glad to be getting something up!<br />
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<b>How far along?</b> 21 weeks<br /><b>Total weight gain:</b> I'm about 11-12 lbs. up from my normal, non-pregnancy weight, so that's what I'm counting. I'm 9-10 lbs. up from my actual weight at the start of pregnancy. I started this pregnancy already up 2 lbs. from my normal weight. <br /><b>Maternity clothes?</b> Some. I would be in them more if I owned more, but I'm waiting a few weeks to place an order. I can hardly wait!<br /><b>Stretch marks?</b> Nope. I use cocoa butter lotion a lot, but not just because of pregnancy. It is the same that I use normally. I had no stretch marks with my first pregnancy, so I'm hoping for the best!<br /><b>Sleep:</b> I still sleep comfortably on my back and side, and it's still comfortable. I get up a few times to use the bathroom, and at about 3:30 or 4:00 to let the cat out. A few nights recently, I've been up for about an hour around that time, just not being able to get back to sleep. Occasionally I'm quite nauseous when I wake, but usually too lazy to get up and eat something. Last night I finally got up and ate a banana, and that seemed to help.<br /><b>Best moment this week:</b> Feeling the baby move! Technically, the first time I felt it was closer to 2 weeks ago, but it was just one little poke, and I didn't feel much after that until this week. I've been feeling movement more and more. I love it! It is so reassuring to feel the little guy move around inside of me! I feel it most while eating, or just after eating. Especially if I eat something sweet. <br /><b>Miss anything?</b> Nothing that I can think of right now.<br /><b>Movement:</b> Many times it's like little bubbles popping inside my belly. The movements get stronger every day. A few days I have felt multiple pokes, and that's the best! I had Matthew put his hand on my belly last night so he could feel it for the first time too. He was out of town when I started feeling movement during my last pregnancy. <br />
<b>Anything making you queasy or sick:</b> When I've been outside in the super hot temps. It's been much cooler and milder lately.<br /><b>Gender:</b> Don't know yet ;) <br />
<b>Labour signs:</b> No! <br /><b>Symptoms:</b> Still a little nauseous at certain times. I'm tired, but not extremely so. I'll nap a couple of times a week. Last week I had a few days of upset stomach.<br /><b>Belly button in or out?</b> Out! Since about week 8!<br />
<b>Wedding rings on or off?</b> On.<br /><b>Happy or moody most of the time:</b> Most of the time, happy :)<br /><b>Looking forward to:</b> My 20 week appointment tomorrow! Although I guess it will be a 21 week appointment for me.<br />
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These photos were actually taken last Sunday, at 20 weeks, 2 days. I feel like the camera does not actually do justice to how big the bump is. I definitely think that I "popped" between weeks 19 and 20! <br />
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<br />Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-29350929690262596872012-05-05T21:41:00.000-05:002012-05-05T21:41:10.013-05:00May I Have This Dance?<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">“lost dreams and forgotten pleasures, </span></i><i><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">sold like a soul to a gluttonous world </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">feeding on my frenzy and anxious activity.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">but just when the old heap of bones seems most dry and deserted,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">a strong Breath of Life stirs among my dead.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">Someone named God comes to my fragments and asks, </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">with twinkling eye: ‘May I have this dance?’</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>the Voice stretches into me, </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>a stirring leaps in my heart, </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>lifting up the bones of death." </i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Joyce Rupp</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">(full devotional at </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Gail Burton Purath's, </span><span style="font-size: medium;">http://biblelovenotes.com)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_dDDF7yy8lqCUiGAiiCGWTDubWgdNiINga5uwY6WIcf_gD8z0YYQFS2OXqwT_IOyIriTBAMQpdAHOaPRBwHuK23uYmy_Weya-IVh1pco3LGyvMLitWbBYObDwATUjN585ja5ADCIrFs/s1600/ballet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_dDDF7yy8lqCUiGAiiCGWTDubWgdNiINga5uwY6WIcf_gD8z0YYQFS2OXqwT_IOyIriTBAMQpdAHOaPRBwHuK23uYmy_Weya-IVh1pco3LGyvMLitWbBYObDwATUjN585ja5ADCIrFs/s320/ballet.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-65550043677452645392012-04-14T22:49:00.000-05:002012-04-14T22:49:21.289-05:00Projects of SaturdaySince starting the <a href="http://www.dearmissdinah.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Dinah blog</a>, I've been at a loss as to what to post here on the Juliette blog. I decided these "boring" pictures would fit the bill. By boring, I guess I mean not involving a small child :-)<br />
<br />
Matthew helped his cousin with a welding project today.<br />
Can you tell what it will be? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0DCJ-yuzp2XAzVcpE5alKopnUSAsfKatt_yDNMkNkUBfPud9JEYmvqZEwpqRjbZkWVUB0ODgdaRK-7mbqqk-ASjVtmlrPrG4MTK9GZGrH6ShzHGnq-d3uEaL6AlMO35Peenh5sqkIwc/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0DCJ-yuzp2XAzVcpE5alKopnUSAsfKatt_yDNMkNkUBfPud9JEYmvqZEwpqRjbZkWVUB0ODgdaRK-7mbqqk-ASjVtmlrPrG4MTK9GZGrH6ShzHGnq-d3uEaL6AlMO35Peenh5sqkIwc/s320/Haskell-20120414-02709.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Well, just imagine that the bottom is a cow and the top is a pig, because that's what we joked he could paint this like. (Because I think it looks like a pig standing on top of a cow, just in case that didn't make sense.)<br />
<br />
"If you can find paint that can withstand 400 degree heat!" Daniel informs us.<br />
<br />
Guess this smoker will remain plain-jane. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1DCmozTm3MVrIoNocXk3uySpZ3lvc369c-f_LxqWaeqvQGCZRxtNvRNdq0eQOxFWPtsMrq_An7c9vM7GopokQL-QOTxtfRw6F_FedS9nYSB5-tW1gPM-3_x6-raEuhsVE6fGLhpeSUQ/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1DCmozTm3MVrIoNocXk3uySpZ3lvc369c-f_LxqWaeqvQGCZRxtNvRNdq0eQOxFWPtsMrq_An7c9vM7GopokQL-QOTxtfRw6F_FedS9nYSB5-tW1gPM-3_x6-raEuhsVE6fGLhpeSUQ/s320/Haskell-20120414-02710.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscdb3e_5tKMYcbS94Nxjbzq8S_nMEjmscNQ1qNQ-UrZavyuKv2727mcvz0YpZEg87p7eMy_6m9m1gO1kkRjoQWU_1U1OXpf_fr_-26yhzb56BgLh_n8v6VX7qbenDPs7yCRrdJo2z8Ms/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscdb3e_5tKMYcbS94Nxjbzq8S_nMEjmscNQ1qNQ-UrZavyuKv2727mcvz0YpZEg87p7eMy_6m9m1gO1kkRjoQWU_1U1OXpf_fr_-26yhzb56BgLh_n8v6VX7qbenDPs7yCRrdJo2z8Ms/s320/Haskell-20120414-02712.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefsTOW0JP3V8clS2fD0xOl_qbe1D0Su4syj2Ieti892GIIqbBg7I1iNhEZw9uCmBq9UnG0jAKebgGgwLCQYfFwL0sZcbA7RcDMOjEGWg_QoBjNQq-FXVKe9AXYNHE8UN1yv9KSGc3IS8/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefsTOW0JP3V8clS2fD0xOl_qbe1D0Su4syj2Ieti892GIIqbBg7I1iNhEZw9uCmBq9UnG0jAKebgGgwLCQYfFwL0sZcbA7RcDMOjEGWg_QoBjNQq-FXVKe9AXYNHE8UN1yv9KSGc3IS8/s320/Haskell-20120414-02713.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />
The progress of the seed cleaner is as follows.<br />
I do not currently possess the knowledge to explain any of this to you. <br />
<br />
Oh wait! The three rectangular shaped things in the middle, I believe, are 'length graders,' and is the part of the machine that will separate the seed by length. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICuDYeuwyWXQegsCQaz5RUnhuKOhYcz13KifiPQnnQ7lg2lYf9mc4VL1yDEa_1T7KoMqHH34FgKeF1KGvAVx-L19m4v9DnAwF-ZHolxVZQZziu_DHeVkYRqmRhJlq_d6NTrjm2pcjVlk/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICuDYeuwyWXQegsCQaz5RUnhuKOhYcz13KifiPQnnQ7lg2lYf9mc4VL1yDEa_1T7KoMqHH34FgKeF1KGvAVx-L19m4v9DnAwF-ZHolxVZQZziu_DHeVkYRqmRhJlq_d6NTrjm2pcjVlk/s320/Haskell-20120414-02716.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I worked on the garden.<br />
Here's what we're looking like so far:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsRzJ8WP1e-fw84y-2fB8_4X4iVo1DIB9eZlwq9KMQ38cJeVuY-wNx5vYiEJEuR8JWZ37BxBPyueEvrLDvi_92v-6EsxX5bTFgItLTlQR7QSTJbfkB2IHd4VMChVpQk6oGWcyfaJd3bk/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsRzJ8WP1e-fw84y-2fB8_4X4iVo1DIB9eZlwq9KMQ38cJeVuY-wNx5vYiEJEuR8JWZ37BxBPyueEvrLDvi_92v-6EsxX5bTFgItLTlQR7QSTJbfkB2IHd4VMChVpQk6oGWcyfaJd3bk/s320/Haskell-20120414-02717.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Broccoli and brussels sprouts. We made a border out of broken tiles. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyc1f2tVwcln9RqgQtcc6w5mp9gAwVhOFQEYhFayChcQ-umu_51MmVxd4dLETAMBOpcXqe0thLAmRzB-t7_y7VKZFs6NITtrsmRmDDN3QXCG8YJ0RgP31g-L6k316eCiiDrPpCcXmxPc/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyc1f2tVwcln9RqgQtcc6w5mp9gAwVhOFQEYhFayChcQ-umu_51MmVxd4dLETAMBOpcXqe0thLAmRzB-t7_y7VKZFs6NITtrsmRmDDN3QXCG8YJ0RgP31g-L6k316eCiiDrPpCcXmxPc/s320/Haskell-20120414-02718.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBYvu649Cl9sUqe3a6w12YvpfK-Cm14dPdG9nG1cCkp1SVSnu5-_AFFqrh56IxAwW5NXPVin_p6j6WP2P9qimpU0EZmmvS7F6ZP9vjEvhPDhmWjIrGI0hYhcx4KgkV8pjEZhK48Jvm1Q/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBYvu649Cl9sUqe3a6w12YvpfK-Cm14dPdG9nG1cCkp1SVSnu5-_AFFqrh56IxAwW5NXPVin_p6j6WP2P9qimpU0EZmmvS7F6ZP9vjEvhPDhmWjIrGI0hYhcx4KgkV8pjEZhK48Jvm1Q/s320/Haskell-20120414-02719.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sherlyn Melon. Have bugs been eating it? There are a few bites and the leaves are turning yellow. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_q1ZpPaU8Rt04MhRRGK_lbaBxALDZ_SA7xDJz4XyX2_F29A96rg3oMv4m5mK_I2S-lwQVQlIIf9L-xQ_rsBIObfJdR3eLyy8OcFNfZ3KJpVYzEXkDWBfmVbDnhuh8W0m3wHUtKt_ORs/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_q1ZpPaU8Rt04MhRRGK_lbaBxALDZ_SA7xDJz4XyX2_F29A96rg3oMv4m5mK_I2S-lwQVQlIIf9L-xQ_rsBIObfJdR3eLyy8OcFNfZ3KJpVYzEXkDWBfmVbDnhuh8W0m3wHUtKt_ORs/s320/Haskell-20120414-02720.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lettuces and string beans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0ToncsmbMybGtmk3ZjxmGuzDZ5U0fZXepz_bxxYIRy9zNczsXhKL7oqDCHSQzvOrEmog7g1jyng8IlxCXd9hbKCEg4aVPczgkbL6PNx3ig5nTg4JPCIig5QU0FxuuqmHW2NHq41WQF8/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0ToncsmbMybGtmk3ZjxmGuzDZ5U0fZXepz_bxxYIRy9zNczsXhKL7oqDCHSQzvOrEmog7g1jyng8IlxCXd9hbKCEg4aVPczgkbL6PNx3ig5nTg4JPCIig5QU0FxuuqmHW2NHq41WQF8/s320/Haskell-20120414-02721.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another melon. Same deal as the first. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1E3wwY0PGlsIg4V-55RpxwI59_kfOpkGlrpo2vwNdhqVu7iryBqtOcJdjtHyAgFYLejKQDIfx6FV76uRd0P8K4cNXweKn88M4pUl7RxYtRhyphenhyphenGhzmF2j5cojRA7t87sOhbPsDIYuY_xFo/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1E3wwY0PGlsIg4V-55RpxwI59_kfOpkGlrpo2vwNdhqVu7iryBqtOcJdjtHyAgFYLejKQDIfx6FV76uRd0P8K4cNXweKn88M4pUl7RxYtRhyphenhyphenGhzmF2j5cojRA7t87sOhbPsDIYuY_xFo/s320/Haskell-20120414-02723.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artistic shot trying to get the whole garden. You can see the carrots pretty clearly here - the wet line that was just watered!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUCT8CmGV1TRIAFyAY_arzYo0hAc69czAMpcj0Fxcm6TGXSq6lUdpeGLgyypAX4G1Gf1j39zp7nxxBaFb3QCwh4iQeGZYt-gNHO83Zrd_4RLrtAxn4nbQ5FEV4LA3TcSE662hughr5wA/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUCT8CmGV1TRIAFyAY_arzYo0hAc69czAMpcj0Fxcm6TGXSq6lUdpeGLgyypAX4G1Gf1j39zp7nxxBaFb3QCwh4iQeGZYt-gNHO83Zrd_4RLrtAxn4nbQ5FEV4LA3TcSE662hughr5wA/s320/Haskell-20120414-02724.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little herb garden outside the back door.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheB85t_YPOQVwGQwspcvxPgWsbhor3k7uI8zaIRR-F7Q67-xWE2ne_W_4xNzdUdrjZTNtQbN6iilRQ-MXaLVNsevsHs2lF4ofQGuhLwNCjWw7oa7JvyNbVscaGAOUxfSVkNKo2fMYk828/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheB85t_YPOQVwGQwspcvxPgWsbhor3k7uI8zaIRR-F7Q67-xWE2ne_W_4xNzdUdrjZTNtQbN6iilRQ-MXaLVNsevsHs2lF4ofQGuhLwNCjWw7oa7JvyNbVscaGAOUxfSVkNKo2fMYk828/s320/Haskell-20120414-02725.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_-I9l4QSXpayXGSIK95k-utW1N7mo20VO6JX4vviiemTPEe2qZSAuEohyphenhyphen3sg1eFbFKzVF30CS6mzA3MwSkmtdF350hc-mBI_CsCnJw5jobqAQYrY_0uzKM8-xMjhct2Eli4FNbGy1YM/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_-I9l4QSXpayXGSIK95k-utW1N7mo20VO6JX4vviiemTPEe2qZSAuEohyphenhyphen3sg1eFbFKzVF30CS6mzA3MwSkmtdF350hc-mBI_CsCnJw5jobqAQYrY_0uzKM8-xMjhct2Eli4FNbGy1YM/s320/Haskell-20120414-02726.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thyme in the planter, oregano and a marigold on the ground. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQHcvQ9WDwzf7_Zqb4BSRLpUv1NFReoygNYbBLR_S14hmKx0-AWbCDSohfOjabpU_6Hus05FBuIHDPs_IA8lf30Au5tqrmOftdSd0hcw5MGL-Od4A8Wd7vdY6U1NDNwJHoYk-87eg-t0/s1600/Haskell-20120414-02731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQHcvQ9WDwzf7_Zqb4BSRLpUv1NFReoygNYbBLR_S14hmKx0-AWbCDSohfOjabpU_6Hus05FBuIHDPs_IA8lf30Au5tqrmOftdSd0hcw5MGL-Od4A8Wd7vdY6U1NDNwJHoYk-87eg-t0/s320/Haskell-20120414-02731.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bamboo tree...my favorite color!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-42390838698206047732012-02-11T22:28:00.000-06:002012-02-11T22:28:50.926-06:00Date Bars CockaigneYesterday, Matthew was using the computer.<br />
At first, I thought about despairing.<br />
<br />
I couldn't look up recipes!<br />
<br />
<i>But wait</i>, I light-bulbed. <i> </i><br />
<i>I have cookbooks!</i> REAL cookbooks. <br />
<br />
So I made the trek to the kitchen, and flexed my muscles to pull down the mammoth, JOY of Cooking. I found my way aaaaaaall the way to the back of the book (man, this takes so much longer than Google...)<br />
<br />
Index: A...B...C...D... dates!<br />
These look right. Scan for ingredients.<br />
<br />
Alright, lets go.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvE7xLFBp9u5XbeERwlYuyZQ362WnqFBmWC_ZJU6RMv16JKXmjLAKAatQj20w0tcasjD-FXBzCX4IND58oQaAqihwzJpv4ZHJGAFrjXmMRWa66BGnGnP0YFcWTd7xGqm18bRthaSli4wc/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvE7xLFBp9u5XbeERwlYuyZQ362WnqFBmWC_ZJU6RMv16JKXmjLAKAatQj20w0tcasjD-FXBzCX4IND58oQaAqihwzJpv4ZHJGAFrjXmMRWa66BGnGnP0YFcWTd7xGqm18bRthaSli4wc/s400/Haskell-20120210-02208.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Gather ingredients:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ93Lx2K8RM6HQVAP7RLXDrF8C2jCSzys6tCeQ_a3uLR79KHWGYMziXNbIY4Ck0ZI1t6ppkU9EpjmMgQ_lFMPUA-bQQGKVbwjBnfrAcfv1-qqjphH8DJ9qWReP0ek1J83tjcKoxkkFSr0/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ93Lx2K8RM6HQVAP7RLXDrF8C2jCSzys6tCeQ_a3uLR79KHWGYMziXNbIY4Ck0ZI1t6ppkU9EpjmMgQ_lFMPUA-bQQGKVbwjBnfrAcfv1-qqjphH8DJ9qWReP0ek1J83tjcKoxkkFSr0/s400/Haskell-20120210-02207.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I had everything but clover.<br />
Not worth a run to the store.<br />
<br />
Mix dry stuff:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzt-llPUpC9v0cdYXpvkdaXBnzWqx9PRZSrS_idodHB2moGanY2MjDiIQkjcERFJ57aP35btmmbZ3SmvHLfFSHmCWNiTzHAvRYxCJmgk_gVZiRh1SVKFN4poCgxfFsVQ4es3eh_T4TSWM/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzt-llPUpC9v0cdYXpvkdaXBnzWqx9PRZSrS_idodHB2moGanY2MjDiIQkjcERFJ57aP35btmmbZ3SmvHLfFSHmCWNiTzHAvRYxCJmgk_gVZiRh1SVKFN4poCgxfFsVQ4es3eh_T4TSWM/s320/Haskell-20120210-02209.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Cream butter and sugar: <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IAMX2yKRajp-t0x9l9fg0W9I-DMnkOJjeDtDSDS6qgsYqad49yZIj21gHM6TZmfonVKodXcfogRozQ2cmmHHNuLJNtXdwu0eAm4Icd9kOpfND7d-v5zBcUbbJYgwdlIkAqcxBQMd2I8/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IAMX2yKRajp-t0x9l9fg0W9I-DMnkOJjeDtDSDS6qgsYqad49yZIj21gHM6TZmfonVKodXcfogRozQ2cmmHHNuLJNtXdwu0eAm4Icd9kOpfND7d-v5zBcUbbJYgwdlIkAqcxBQMd2I8/s320/Haskell-20120210-02210.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Add the rest of the wet stuff, dates, nuts, zest:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI-GK-Su3cyTuh84i7d0pl1WBbezsnP7ur8alI9oNI9QEIH929hjbEWUGymJvX_mIZjGtEojA8a_Wj751wIBAKzUo9Y9FFZLfwEoMLHtAI33nM-HUsWws5omZp7bz_IDwQL3KQp38SR0/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI-GK-Su3cyTuh84i7d0pl1WBbezsnP7ur8alI9oNI9QEIH929hjbEWUGymJvX_mIZjGtEojA8a_Wj751wIBAKzUo9Y9FFZLfwEoMLHtAI33nM-HUsWws5omZp7bz_IDwQL3KQp38SR0/s320/Haskell-20120210-02217.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I tore open the dates, took out the seed, and lay them out flat. This made 'em easier to chop.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDux6NsfWEdOYWQtIQ9ufnCYy6H21q_L7_rRmSoQyeoFRjpEe5WUrNBq7jQQZt0IsTtyj2-Yziq6hs8eLmO8V_XLEDgBfeD1QZQ5tDPe6BIC_w7DiDHiNYGrgxB9A4cD-gohCUNNsMZU/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDux6NsfWEdOYWQtIQ9ufnCYy6H21q_L7_rRmSoQyeoFRjpEe5WUrNBq7jQQZt0IsTtyj2-Yziq6hs8eLmO8V_XLEDgBfeD1QZQ5tDPe6BIC_w7DiDHiNYGrgxB9A4cD-gohCUNNsMZU/s320/Haskell-20120210-02211.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Baby is awake! So, I leave the kitchen like this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdiNce4EapEjYFz3YpzlD-knZvVCZQLqTIumFiRBGmG0p8l0cio6QxJzaOxr-USywDnYvpc1mSeBLbV2cz-4OUbeBZml3hzFccpNGjDY5HYQk55MvRPbFNhfrKOA7JkJnY8_0rVWWWG0/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdiNce4EapEjYFz3YpzlD-knZvVCZQLqTIumFiRBGmG0p8l0cio6QxJzaOxr-USywDnYvpc1mSeBLbV2cz-4OUbeBZml3hzFccpNGjDY5HYQk55MvRPbFNhfrKOA7JkJnY8_0rVWWWG0/s320/Haskell-20120210-02212.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
We nurse, then set up the play station:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVL3d5hx444d-o8g-2IqfCWkkiv8vM5PVUdQC4MRbLNw8mY2QKRWoNGiCSJGXT3oPN12QEXthUD5VsELPiqP3N6AWaV46cWGUnWGBUr08jnDiJRE4Lm2SZjp8uDKfQrCXaMyZ_bMAarIs/s1600/Haskell-20120209-02195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVL3d5hx444d-o8g-2IqfCWkkiv8vM5PVUdQC4MRbLNw8mY2QKRWoNGiCSJGXT3oPN12QEXthUD5VsELPiqP3N6AWaV46cWGUnWGBUr08jnDiJRE4Lm2SZjp8uDKfQrCXaMyZ_bMAarIs/s320/Haskell-20120209-02195.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Back to baking.<br />
Spread into the baking pan:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84fDYFd26qi52tDzfaMCTdXOZ8Tee3yEPa5VhakOYHqntM2VkXCEbuZyK_YFj4mdIqjqYD9rgTvQzqZ18bsWTWVvEamPpfskRCiY1UPBjmVMLpvFtKRwmanoYU-vL2iPMWRhHJ58Uphg/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84fDYFd26qi52tDzfaMCTdXOZ8Tee3yEPa5VhakOYHqntM2VkXCEbuZyK_YFj4mdIqjqYD9rgTvQzqZ18bsWTWVvEamPpfskRCiY1UPBjmVMLpvFtKRwmanoYU-vL2iPMWRhHJ58Uphg/s320/Haskell-20120210-02218.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Can you see the baby foot to the left of the pan?? =D<br />
<br />
Cookies bake...<br />
We play!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR_ntCmAqpEx8xmuYWcImDA-1P9Kie3ls404vVmvE4HChkKPQcFSzLno82JLrL84Kfay-IKT1AJULSbVs1GMc_ewIQw9mozoDQ-geVXFCyDA2fTIwRWorMKg7ZCp7-EJHJ6s-_gCATm1U/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR_ntCmAqpEx8xmuYWcImDA-1P9Kie3ls404vVmvE4HChkKPQcFSzLno82JLrL84Kfay-IKT1AJULSbVs1GMc_ewIQw9mozoDQ-geVXFCyDA2fTIwRWorMKg7ZCp7-EJHJ6s-_gCATm1U/s320/Haskell-20120210-02215.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We eat...carrots.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfc2sRymlgArZu76AusoBAxeo7LS2Vu0PUgxqAIZzg-CZIp0me9UzEIPPZWABa496NftV4wrctPxp_uqmzxQFe66fRawRtWFgF4d5O7bShZ_Vx5eNDr4Puzjy2S0BGPyeRZusoIYSe9gI/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfc2sRymlgArZu76AusoBAxeo7LS2Vu0PUgxqAIZzg-CZIp0me9UzEIPPZWABa496NftV4wrctPxp_uqmzxQFe66fRawRtWFgF4d5O7bShZ_Vx5eNDr4Puzjy2S0BGPyeRZusoIYSe9gI/s320/Haskell-20120210-02219.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKX9-Xnrhn_zrR7PwBQHn_K0KC_wla_iBeKQEzIkX_MW58Ku_i4KHscz6euy0tKTWnEVsUGLDi1MO7-z_hsFwi64THI9mO2Ue1KciskNPaUQm13BTGAr4_3anbEcihnGwckBnoQqyyTM/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKX9-Xnrhn_zrR7PwBQHn_K0KC_wla_iBeKQEzIkX_MW58Ku_i4KHscz6euy0tKTWnEVsUGLDi1MO7-z_hsFwi64THI9mO2Ue1KciskNPaUQm13BTGAr4_3anbEcihnGwckBnoQqyyTM/s320/Haskell-20120210-02220.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Beep! Beep! Beep! Done.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfQyNIppoLgfh-SMvw9v8zDJ14Zubq1gidMg0TUaCXJQlSGXI3N7DkwWfwAvzCXv7l6pEJ50WNVVoDXSbSiN0zJX_-KFfd_zo9tl-rYA-xfRxS0_hfdSbqdXnbKCGdskesx-fX2oLIv0/s1600/Haskell-20120210-02221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfQyNIppoLgfh-SMvw9v8zDJ14Zubq1gidMg0TUaCXJQlSGXI3N7DkwWfwAvzCXv7l6pEJ50WNVVoDXSbSiN0zJX_-KFfd_zo9tl-rYA-xfRxS0_hfdSbqdXnbKCGdskesx-fX2oLIv0/s320/Haskell-20120210-02221.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'll be keeping my cookbooks.<br />
They still work.<br />
<br />
Only one question,<br />
Cockaigne - what does it mean? I don't have a dictionary here.<br />
<br />
I will Google it.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-14443185706197928082012-01-25T22:39:00.000-06:002012-01-25T22:39:16.577-06:00Fit for MotheringWe arrived back home Monday night after being on the road for about 3 months, off and on. I felt myself let out the longest sigh and tried to think back at where I'd been and what I'd done, but I couldn't wrap my head around it all quite yet. Knowing I will be here without too much travel until the end of the seed cleaning season is a huge relief. I know by now that this may not actually be what happens, but we have nothing in the works, and its good enough to know that I can unpack my bags, at least for a while!<br />
<br />
The last time I really unpacked my bags was June 18th, a Friday night. Matthew had been working on the house for 6 months straight, and we finally moved enough furniture in to spend the night! My midwife, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Life-Center-Clinic/128123073896" target="_blank">Sheila</a> pushed to get our mattress moved into the house as she had been there since Wednesday with very little progress on my part ;) She was certain I had to be settled into my place before things would start moving. Things sure did get moving Saturday, and by Sunday night I had started into labor.<br />
<br />
So yes, I like to be at home!<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong, I think there's a grace for all the traveling. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to stay together as a family and not be tied down by a job or regular commitments in one place. In fact, it is our commitments and obligations that allow us to be mobile and go where we are needed in a moments notice. And we end up getting some pretty amazing opportunities along the way.<br />
<br />
When we were in Costa Rica a few years back, I remember praying that God would begin to "fit me for motherhood," whatever that meant. I think that traveling has been part of what he's used to do that...<br />
<br />
Today, I went to dance class. We do ballet arm circle exercises with weights and I was amazed at how "easy" it was! For some reason, it really took me by surprise. The last time I did those exercises was four months ago or so. Back then, I had to use the low weight, and my arms and back hurt when I did them. Well, since that time I've gone from toting around a 7 or 8 lb baby to toting around a 17-18 lb baby (plus car-sear!) <br />
<br />
...In the same way, we've been traveling so much, that the last time Matthew got a phone call saying we "might" have to do a job in Kansas City, I said "Fine!" and started gathering my things before he was even off of the phone. We left town about 3 hours later and didn't get back for three weeks. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I daydream about things I should get better at, as a wife/mother, you know, the yummy meals and felt projects displayed on Pinterest. And then Matthew calls and says he needs me make a transfer, research a credit line, pull down a cabinet, screw on an electrical cover. And I realize I've become a little bit more fit to be <i>his</i> wife than I was before. Though I have so far to go. <br />
<br />
Since seed cleaning season ended last year, we have been to Manhattan (multiple times), Topeka, Kansas City, Arlington, Edmond, St. Louis, Seattle (Matt), Nashville (Matt), Louisport (Matt), and back home for a few days at a time. I am grateful for all the time with friends and family, and all the opportunities to grow our business, and to bless peoples' lives whenever possible. <br />
<br />
Still, there is just something about being in your own home that can't be found anywhere else. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXupKW22zVXbgd_Zvy9Y9xYtGP-6RL4unjamKq5Z7Dl_TLBqNndKIN0M3bT1pYzMyytY0HgxVmjTENEq34Hell0tp15KX5h8dUyn7MlA32wsQrxeZjLSK1vUAqNxcmmU8Ik5USUbs4a7I/s1600/DSC01038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXupKW22zVXbgd_Zvy9Y9xYtGP-6RL4unjamKq5Z7Dl_TLBqNndKIN0M3bT1pYzMyytY0HgxVmjTENEq34Hell0tp15KX5h8dUyn7MlA32wsQrxeZjLSK1vUAqNxcmmU8Ik5USUbs4a7I/s320/DSC01038.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Costa Rica, not yet fit :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4P6xqZb_vOSBkDbHMKWM7w7g1ZtTy9t2tmG2L3UiGjbEzmZ98drT7XodHfnp4IyMCDplgmOdsXsKf421U0sdRkPb7VdCJRM-MXu4Grka9IuLEJw-BGfvPYQiAOat_jfM5lkXoyFPI1xw/s1600/Haskell-20111224-01985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4P6xqZb_vOSBkDbHMKWM7w7g1ZtTy9t2tmG2L3UiGjbEzmZ98drT7XodHfnp4IyMCDplgmOdsXsKf421U0sdRkPb7VdCJRM-MXu4Grka9IuLEJw-BGfvPYQiAOat_jfM5lkXoyFPI1xw/s320/Haskell-20111224-01985.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Briefly home at Christmastime</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKEaLQbuAvnH6RwJkWHARv4CvKxM3-wfEhzN_Jn24SNFHjb3yvNx89KvUU3cKOJfdP26quKy0eTh2oHtYwUWJ8DLl5AXRwPkn2PIwF3hyphenhyphenOKbJx5rudcjI-7pXWLK3HiqU0FO2zRZKHKs/s1600/Haskell-20120124-02093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKEaLQbuAvnH6RwJkWHARv4CvKxM3-wfEhzN_Jn24SNFHjb3yvNx89KvUU3cKOJfdP26quKy0eTh2oHtYwUWJ8DLl5AXRwPkn2PIwF3hyphenhyphenOKbJx5rudcjI-7pXWLK3HiqU0FO2zRZKHKs/s320/Haskell-20120124-02093.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Took the cabinet down to rewire yesterday, took only 10 minutes. Matthew refuses to pose for pictures.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbV0FPPdyyf9ZvMAVBUd_KE8LQpOGIXLFR_mCqM2cR1jRns6xBS3U0dF9fd0Zjm019dS-sCxQzWVPSSMEmK2KAKQY4wqn0v9hVLd-_yaL-lQApjkjjRKMQ9xgpRd2NXBOU77I8vieNFA/s1600/Haskell-20120125-02096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbV0FPPdyyf9ZvMAVBUd_KE8LQpOGIXLFR_mCqM2cR1jRns6xBS3U0dF9fd0Zjm019dS-sCxQzWVPSSMEmK2KAKQY4wqn0v9hVLd-_yaL-lQApjkjjRKMQ9xgpRd2NXBOU77I8vieNFA/s320/Haskell-20120125-02096.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bananas for breakfast. First time in the high chair (which was mine). We are a mess, but we are home!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-20183482151389990112011-11-09T22:43:00.001-06:002011-11-11T08:04:35.340-06:00I Knew She Was a Sponge, I Didn't Know She Was a MirrorIt's evident that things have slowed back down to a manageable pace over the past four months or so.<br />
<br />
We all sleep more at night.<br />
I've been cleaning and cooking a lot more.<br />
And I've managed to spend more time (probably more than I need to) on Facebook and blogs. <br />
<br />
Yep, it's evident that we no longer have a newborn, but a full-fledged infant.<br />
<br />
She's fallen into a nice little rhythm of eating, playing, and napping (mostly in her travel crib because we've been on the go so much). So, today, when she wanted to nap in my lap on the couch, I totally conceded.<br />
<br />
In fact, I wanted her to.<br />
In fact, I loved every minute of it.<br />
In fact, I love every moment with her.<br />
<br />
I realize that she has been "soaking" up information for over four months now: sorting, filing, and trying to make sense of the world she's living in. And the funniest thing started happening...<br />
<br />
A few days ago, she started making little coughing, choking, gagging noises.<br />
Ok, I know. That's not funny.<br />
And it's not really as dramatic as I make it sound. Almost like she's clearing her throat, "eh, eh, eh..." <br />
<br />
It's been getting really cold out, so I thought she was just reacting to me touching her with my cold hands. Then, she started doing it at other times too: when other people were holding her, and just out of the blue.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, it hits him, and Matthew says, "That's her name for YOU!"<br />
<i>What? </i>I thought. <i>What are you talking about?</i><br />
<br />
"She's mimicking that noise that you make to her<i> </i>all the time!"<br />
<br />
The noise he's referring to started the day that Dinah began to giggle. She was lying on the couch, and I leaned over the top of her, got my face close to hers, and started whispering <i>hehehe.</i> It made her laugh, and I was elated. It was amazing, endearing, hysterical all at the same time. Naturally, I have continued ad nauseum. Well, apparently, she began associating that noise with me, and after a few weeks began reflecting it back to me. She does it when she's looking at me, when she wants me, or wants something from me.<br />
<br />
We laughed so hard when we figured this out.<br />
<br />
And the only thing funnier is that since Matthew blows "raspberries" on her tummy ever day...<br />
We're pretty sure his name is spit. :)<br />
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<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDd6qp1fc3io_A_GTUvLqrGb5_yGsqy9oo6zviDOBL639f9VtDU2Fl8GUGoYU1T9SQFFC9S4TFnvT7MDL9Ypw3_L3emYcMU7ZvzEn7iJg_Pwg2nv7nfeaUnTnaLeruhaKLGaiNrBInpHY/s1600/IMG-20111021-01636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDd6qp1fc3io_A_GTUvLqrGb5_yGsqy9oo6zviDOBL639f9VtDU2Fl8GUGoYU1T9SQFFC9S4TFnvT7MDL9Ypw3_L3emYcMU7ZvzEn7iJg_Pwg2nv7nfeaUnTnaLeruhaKLGaiNrBInpHY/s320/IMG-20111021-01636.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7N2C5fpkU4xiFleDQ4LhY98J37r3wnWUpsVlWWoLi5SP04roVPFekRGdWnI1u09vM-_VnzEb6ESc-EjgsiHVKE5iuyCCesrCTAu9Eu7ld9R5BOqGJQJdEdD4nxTSOuXoDhAlaIjzuKck/s1600/IMG-20111021-01637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7N2C5fpkU4xiFleDQ4LhY98J37r3wnWUpsVlWWoLi5SP04roVPFekRGdWnI1u09vM-_VnzEb6ESc-EjgsiHVKE5iuyCCesrCTAu9Eu7ld9R5BOqGJQJdEdD4nxTSOuXoDhAlaIjzuKck/s320/IMG-20111021-01637.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-53737350469150829022011-09-14T20:53:00.000-05:002011-09-14T20:53:19.614-05:00Happy Birthday, MomBecause of you<br />
<br />
I love Penzey's spices,<br />
and pesto<br />
and pea soup (with toasted bagels of course).<br />
<br />
I write stories,<br />
and Christmas cards,<br />
and thank-you notes (usually).<br />
<br />
I always floss,<br />
and moisturize,<br />
and wear my seat belt.<br />
<br />
And because of you,<br />
I know what it takes to raise a daughter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqAgp2D0jWJ2sKp-dAkGEOqHuaGj2ZroEKlGzG-ZyZEqZFid4ihmFCi0UozuQbXkUHotGXvkP6VP1iKri8B007kJzRmG7JqeKKsriiJHLO2yy3ZN78vWB_FTpuID4GQvU55I3N5qR21M/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110508-00748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqAgp2D0jWJ2sKp-dAkGEOqHuaGj2ZroEKlGzG-ZyZEqZFid4ihmFCi0UozuQbXkUHotGXvkP6VP1iKri8B007kJzRmG7JqeKKsriiJHLO2yy3ZN78vWB_FTpuID4GQvU55I3N5qR21M/s640/Prairie+Village-20110508-00748.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mimi, Mom ... and me :) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-71235031432922456062011-08-21T15:58:00.001-05:002011-08-21T15:59:00.295-05:00DINAH MONETOur little girl arrived on June 20th, weighing in at 6 lb 15.5 oz, and measuring 19.5 inches.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu51KZoGUm5Z1qFCzXPes_Bxi5PQKXAYvouCQ7aKomIXIUm3rUo1LulAWKhpdQZX5aQs-9qjOCILD9kly8GtjwIiHZu-r6PSGTyMQ26VplbMOclbrWSUZAVW_UxE5HfrLobizuXd141Ek/s1600/Haskell-20110624-01009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu51KZoGUm5Z1qFCzXPes_Bxi5PQKXAYvouCQ7aKomIXIUm3rUo1LulAWKhpdQZX5aQs-9qjOCILD9kly8GtjwIiHZu-r6PSGTyMQ26VplbMOclbrWSUZAVW_UxE5HfrLobizuXd141Ek/s640/Haskell-20110624-01009.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
She's sleeping on this bed next to me right now as I type.<br />
<br />
...And I absolutely adore her <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoxsmG9ZB6dKw5JGlRO_Ytn5m0mNBrlakAMBESYEo6Q5U1zL8-U3aUeAKTZKgHg8pNCFGMvNQxieY9meGq5OMkzJKWSu4N_cdsC82V43DC4AhquCtwfWFHm8KMx57i6hIAmz4qTG5I1Q/s1600/IMG_2484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoxsmG9ZB6dKw5JGlRO_Ytn5m0mNBrlakAMBESYEo6Q5U1zL8-U3aUeAKTZKgHg8pNCFGMvNQxieY9meGq5OMkzJKWSu4N_cdsC82V43DC4AhquCtwfWFHm8KMx57i6hIAmz4qTG5I1Q/s640/IMG_2484.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First diapee change</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Absolutely adore.<br />
<br />
...And I'm not the only one<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t3oIMA6TnoVIarg1O1Ye9tMwNSxP7IUZSJIvG1Tg-A_cm_hDxn8kwXofIoNWLi8KdNGEJb1XxYk-bXw3Djwe6UJJeEtHprXRGvr9McItKcDf7JcomNnjC71wLbbDyna9TJPrrOSqkZc/s1600/Haskell-20110624-01000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t3oIMA6TnoVIarg1O1Ye9tMwNSxP7IUZSJIvG1Tg-A_cm_hDxn8kwXofIoNWLi8KdNGEJb1XxYk-bXw3Djwe6UJJeEtHprXRGvr9McItKcDf7JcomNnjC71wLbbDyna9TJPrrOSqkZc/s400/Haskell-20110624-01000.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_48ktfuBqrxYkXIq6HWi7Y4_DMEelAzRCLlytE1JrUthBfDX88AsHvnOWaDxuXeeJcVSEg3Q9ei76cFExkyDLwvj2TiddmeBm6sixaflR3LYHe4IaCK81w_xh7oasMtpbbOA5HEIqes/s1600/Haskell-20110703-01060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_48ktfuBqrxYkXIq6HWi7Y4_DMEelAzRCLlytE1JrUthBfDX88AsHvnOWaDxuXeeJcVSEg3Q9ei76cFExkyDLwvj2TiddmeBm6sixaflR3LYHe4IaCK81w_xh7oasMtpbbOA5HEIqes/s400/Haskell-20110703-01060.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisi (my mom)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxUBNSSGhKEDzYuAkCip0Kkgo0R48EO2M8-NdbezQrrnPdrthm_QPWgvPWO6yssNcYoY_rGaJOoya_0d4old-QcUgc-mw4DZG6ZWjDrr6NCtpJnbAjKzdbM7omjHCqYhltgwEtXm1s9M/s1600/Haskell-20110705-01065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxUBNSSGhKEDzYuAkCip0Kkgo0R48EO2M8-NdbezQrrnPdrthm_QPWgvPWO6yssNcYoY_rGaJOoya_0d4old-QcUgc-mw4DZG6ZWjDrr6NCtpJnbAjKzdbM7omjHCqYhltgwEtXm1s9M/s400/Haskell-20110705-01065.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gampa (Matt's dad)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY04vedxG5H-Pm0am4nDK8MHuVRwDEly-KJ3WwKAMfMTVpN840Mp-m6IHkJaykrOPA02YElwf7D7lzjadJIdao46huiH94aah3SEw2bvK4S7ewaTzT6igqyHvjuDfByc1JpFYR7QAWSe0/s400/Haskell-20110622-00989.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Elisa</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2SERrqt6JCQRgS7MwJT9vDtPyL22oCtUPYMXCncfFcL1afGd3gCa0_Hip-JpX2WHgsP4XMZoI4mN0aFWR1d9VuA7zBvTgAwIoCguyWX8D_AD1ReKTZP1XpBqRKK7WANnlmb0p9WhC1E/s1600/IMG_2513.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2SERrqt6JCQRgS7MwJT9vDtPyL22oCtUPYMXCncfFcL1afGd3gCa0_Hip-JpX2WHgsP4XMZoI4mN0aFWR1d9VuA7zBvTgAwIoCguyWX8D_AD1ReKTZP1XpBqRKK7WANnlmb0p9WhC1E/s400/IMG_2513.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Katie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5jP4KW0LK2W6GaclQrotEFGoqDrllYL5U5MSZw2VWvGreoKymc-nvNpq_oXjDyh_Owd191HmTf2ZdEHgNJuDxxoqVWibbUWwdsPLR1jXoU-2fExT8P_8-2B5B_vD2p4ezRT7gJM4Kn4/s400/IMG_2660.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisi and Ginni</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWq_KHg6lZjGf2NE-W8SpaWT-rRRHWHPiLeaOf51nqsW_W2VXBActEnHeErxTBtr1vyRD7MPLDpjrl4azoxe3kgzwTZbyaid48O_k6P4iyLHxYzgasveqaoiEhjJBq2tAkhzmwdwqd-A/s1600/Haskell-20110621-00956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWq_KHg6lZjGf2NE-W8SpaWT-rRRHWHPiLeaOf51nqsW_W2VXBActEnHeErxTBtr1vyRD7MPLDpjrl4azoxe3kgzwTZbyaid48O_k6P4iyLHxYzgasveqaoiEhjJBq2tAkhzmwdwqd-A/s400/Haskell-20110621-00956.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa Tom</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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We are simply enjoying every moment of life!<br />
<br />
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</tbody></table>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-82814797430874733082011-03-21T20:10:00.000-05:002011-03-21T20:10:32.079-05:00Wonderful (Windy-ful!) Days<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"></div><br />
The last two days here have been SO lovely - like in the 80's.<br />
I know much of the globe has been experiencing this summer-like weather, and I don't know about you, but it makes me soooooo happy. I enjoy warm weather SO very much. <br />
<br />
Usually, when the weather gets this warm, I make a point of going outside, finding a nice place to sit and read...or close my eyes and do absolutely <i>nothing</i> save soak up the sun.<br />
<br />
Yesterday was brilliant...today however though it is nice and warm, there are also 60 mph winds! So I didn't stay outside long, but did enjoy getting outside for a few quick errands. <br />
<br />
One nice day a few weeks ago, my man helped his cousin roof a building on Main Street. The cousin and his father own the building and use it mostly for storage right now. I just sat on the roof next door and enjoyed the weather and view!! <br />
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<br />
My mother-in-law's birthday was a few weeks ago, so my father-in-law flew us to a nearby city where we celebrated her birthday at the fancy Italian restaurant at the airport. The hot fresh bread and garlic-dipping sauce is SO YUMMY. This time I had the Greek Salad and shared a ravioli chicken alfredo dish with Matthew.<br />
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Me in the plane. I think the scarf adds a nice "aviation" touch, although I did not plan it that way!!<br />
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My man! He has his pilot's license too. His father (the one flying) is an instructor. His cousin (who wants to get his license) is in the front too. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u>House Update:</u></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> - Much of the plumbing and electrical work is done.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> - We have all appliances we need except the washer and dryer which are all-but accounted for, we just need to purchase them and pick them up! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> - Insulation is in. We hired a few gentlemen who sprayed foam insulation all over the walls and ceiling. It was so funny to watch. The man spraying had to wear a suit that made him look like a cross between a beekeeper and an astronaut! It doesn't harden all the way and is supposed to be a great option for insulation. It looks like whipped cream! You can see some "leaking" out the front of the house, and it is quite amusing. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcC2QfxoLTyhNfips_2kJXLWQdzaO1Jdc1G5mbTFDrzrJ3smIxS9TnVKnIZM8DMJR6U40Y-wsJvfVKftkkYq7NiKOft7Ml00VFbBnwkh6KC8KwOTpI0rl4VGmLVtkKIiNg2b_AHbUvCnc/s1600/Haskell-20110319-00380.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcC2QfxoLTyhNfips_2kJXLWQdzaO1Jdc1G5mbTFDrzrJ3smIxS9TnVKnIZM8DMJR6U40Y-wsJvfVKftkkYq7NiKOft7Ml00VFbBnwkh6KC8KwOTpI0rl4VGmLVtkKIiNg2b_AHbUvCnc/s320/Haskell-20110319-00380.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In this photo you can see the insulation. The room on the right is our bedroom and the room on the left is the baby cave!! Both doors will be "pocket" doors, meaning they will slide into the wall and be somewhat hidden. I'm not positive you can tell that by this picture!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BPCFwY6qpSnIBZWItzdhS4kzYRrCt0YOC6ebBG0M_OsTO8315cGYrKO7-fUcVnTp16ELpClmG9LB6vB5CDHQyiMxguAd5kkIuBYy5qyPNK4qq64Kx89oMCjp0Gry6l1P3WbL382Kywk/s1600/Haskell-20110319-00382.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BPCFwY6qpSnIBZWItzdhS4kzYRrCt0YOC6ebBG0M_OsTO8315cGYrKO7-fUcVnTp16ELpClmG9LB6vB5CDHQyiMxguAd5kkIuBYy5qyPNK4qq64Kx89oMCjp0Gry6l1P3WbL382Kywk/s320/Haskell-20110319-00382.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
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Even the tub got insulated! We used a different type of insulation just sprayed out of a can for this though. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkddSpqG-Nyr0bQ68v_hSTvRSyqsdscTUWrBOsPX9V9alVY3yWEYEMOAQO37QkU3RiqsGQpqUVA2set1ypVgOaz2lueCXkfyPJ2iGooQTOL-US5ov_9NvpUwXa4gs1i8WD-7MKjKwa5jo/s1600/IMG-20110110-00212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkddSpqG-Nyr0bQ68v_hSTvRSyqsdscTUWrBOsPX9V9alVY3yWEYEMOAQO37QkU3RiqsGQpqUVA2set1ypVgOaz2lueCXkfyPJ2iGooQTOL-US5ov_9NvpUwXa4gs1i8WD-7MKjKwa5jo/s200/IMG-20110110-00212.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVGhOoYYSGTKoyfZrkYpO2XVlgjTcVMQ8DCJ3chx7dFnvWAKFJblQV9PXatU2f5wFUixP887x47MXmLQFCVMP-XUim8IVVfduSjog26j34DF-HbPFpkPKShPaoPGBIBtYWLAsopeifC0/s1600/IMG-20110306-00332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVGhOoYYSGTKoyfZrkYpO2XVlgjTcVMQ8DCJ3chx7dFnvWAKFJblQV9PXatU2f5wFUixP887x47MXmLQFCVMP-XUim8IVVfduSjog26j34DF-HbPFpkPKShPaoPGBIBtYWLAsopeifC0/s200/IMG-20110306-00332.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Here are examples of two paintings I would like to have hanging in my home. The one on the left is from Target. I really enjoy the expression on the woman's face, and her whole attitude and demeanor in this painting. She just looks quiet, but confident, expressive, and at ease.<br />
<br />
The one on the right is from a store in the mall that is going out of business. It is a print from an old <i>Vogue</i> magazine cover. The woman looks like a dancer at the barre as she leans over the ledge. I like that because I used a similar ledge as a ballet barre once in Italy! Such a great memory, but I haven't been able to find the picture my friend took since the hard-drive of my old computer failed :( My husband restored some of them and placed them in a file somewhere, and I hope they will turn up one day! If you click on the photo and enlarge it, you'll see a little girl in the garden beneath handing her a rose :)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Recently Baking:</u></span><br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, we made this recipe 3 times in less than 2 weeks! The first time was for Matthew's grandmothers birthday. He liked it so much he requested it again for our get-together will friends later that week. Then, a week later we made it <i>again</i> for the same reason (different friends this time, though!) And that time he made ice cream to go along with it! I haven't made homemade ice cream yet, but he's really good at it. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivi58imCZSSgSLoMcG0kR4OU19dxvE5vM17pYKwQIEe23oHZt4hgJ-xzXxpz9GJeRb8tmy-wJP_JbFxpICbd2aGxSpDRk4QbSme9rGJkeWI3wQRKfT6KwShfzlEYMD812ZMHdyrlxFTEM/s1600/Manhattan+City-20110303-00317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivi58imCZSSgSLoMcG0kR4OU19dxvE5vM17pYKwQIEe23oHZt4hgJ-xzXxpz9GJeRb8tmy-wJP_JbFxpICbd2aGxSpDRk4QbSme9rGJkeWI3wQRKfT6KwShfzlEYMD812ZMHdyrlxFTEM/s320/Manhattan+City-20110303-00317.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Try this! You won't be sorry :)<br />
<br />
Like I said, today was so warm out, I felt like something cool and crispy for lunch. I ended up making this salad that seems to have to themes of "crispy" and "red." It is unique! It has leftover strawberries, bananas, and blackberries from breakfast, apples, and little beets. I squeezed fresh lemon on it and topped it with brown sugar crumbles. The lady at the store sold the entire bag to me for $0.79 because, it had hardened into clumps. I was so excited because I like it this way better anyway! :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitSSJn7iVGTp9qrkiAbzh34p7B5MprQpHkpgzjLU801MUL83rMxSTolQd5zwLGI8udFsfMFflENn8hvWecL3EEHsYmmhbL-hxaVsMqfFRw1A11Zb-Pqa2EB7EidG1qgjk0U55-KO8Ir8c/s1600/Haskell-20110321-00403.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitSSJn7iVGTp9qrkiAbzh34p7B5MprQpHkpgzjLU801MUL83rMxSTolQd5zwLGI8udFsfMFflENn8hvWecL3EEHsYmmhbL-hxaVsMqfFRw1A11Zb-Pqa2EB7EidG1qgjk0U55-KO8Ir8c/s320/Haskell-20110321-00403.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDsiSfKqAYPaQlfyptQwu6lhHpdzIe7Zct602orYiqjmf6qLTQdNnh1J2q4r1qd-ZJGHblA5Eq0O5Rk-x8g2HcQOOhWUCSa0voVGHGO855JwqqmM5Rz3RcjgHKbjTXY5c6WK5Q1Vsv6c/s1600/Haskell-20110310-00344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">:) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Also filled up on fruits and veggies that were on sale today. The small town grocery always has great deals on produce, and I am so thankful for this. We had bananas that were getting pretty ripe. When I asked my man what he wanted with bananas - cookies, cake, or bread - he said, "YES." Then he said, "Oh, remember those cookies you made off your friend's blog? Make those!" It's funny those cookies stood out in his memory, because I made them...over a year ago! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Here is her blog for other ideas of what to do with bananas...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.victoriainvirginia.com/2009/10/bananas.html">http://www.victoriainvirginia.com/2009/10/bananas.html </a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And here is a direct link to the cookie recipe</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/banana-walnut-chocolate-chunk-cookies?">http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/banana-walnut-chocolate-chunk-cookies? </a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2H8qcM08igs9inG0eCKADjbvoCHmMEzcvNTcGXiFzvuTWyu_3mPSgEFk-NqSLL5TvEUvA7iYooOLFc_xZJrz3Bw7yjP7zgBbGh_Oj6iAu-K2N_5MhWXnwKvHkwl2xB0k7eVTaNOr-Eo/s1600/Haskell-20110321-00405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2H8qcM08igs9inG0eCKADjbvoCHmMEzcvNTcGXiFzvuTWyu_3mPSgEFk-NqSLL5TvEUvA7iYooOLFc_xZJrz3Bw7yjP7zgBbGh_Oj6iAu-K2N_5MhWXnwKvHkwl2xB0k7eVTaNOr-Eo/s320/Haskell-20110321-00405.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My mother-in-law cleaned the kitchen this afternoon for a while as I baked. A little too windy to be outside at this time anyway, it was nice to enjoy the sunny kitchen together, chat, and work.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">.... </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4osuf6ThneL7aEk_Gm4WzFwxwKOoKbLlRNbqcw8kX1FBljCDRAQojUkLpFjLmNw3fMqVG1nz9CTjyRgpXarOd2NHKLMv_VaXnoqKudsKADfrl1BDLQ-wDSXdcQMwMn8Umhi5GXiEWmg/s1600/IMG-20110123-00069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4osuf6ThneL7aEk_Gm4WzFwxwKOoKbLlRNbqcw8kX1FBljCDRAQojUkLpFjLmNw3fMqVG1nz9CTjyRgpXarOd2NHKLMv_VaXnoqKudsKADfrl1BDLQ-wDSXdcQMwMn8Umhi5GXiEWmg/s320/IMG-20110123-00069.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And just a quick bonus picture that I love! This is from my good friend's wedding last month. Her husband is from Austria, and it is normal for his family to get her this traditional Austrian dress for her wedding. She keeps it her whole life and wears it to traditional Austrian celebrations. His sisters, cousins, and parents all wore these to the wedding. It was so fun!!!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-25615996281494094762011-02-01T21:57:00.001-06:002011-02-02T20:09:56.778-06:00Long Trip: A Few Words, A Lot of PicturesI've been reading,<br />
cooking,<br />
and traveling.<br />
<br />
And that's how we survive January in this part of the world!<br />
<br />
I decided to read through the entire Bible during the month of January. For the whole story on that, visit my newest blog: <a href="http://www.thruin30.blogspot.com/">www.thruin30.blogspot.com</a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c6G6ZjJ57ERxXLmIxSHCnEhz5dlM5THh8CelpK9C9PcwWVXkIcsXgRVvhp-uC2Y98PuSp-aCI4_b86LgfNC01eVOiAZbCr3R5NbsIkwhoSXFHY9RnlfuBGQmFK2i4Hrx4UeY2GLVG3M/s400/Haskell-20110117-00001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Reading outside (on the trampoline, of course) during one of </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">our 60 degree days a few weeks ago!</div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c6G6ZjJ57ERxXLmIxSHCnEhz5dlM5THh8CelpK9C9PcwWVXkIcsXgRVvhp-uC2Y98PuSp-aCI4_b86LgfNC01eVOiAZbCr3R5NbsIkwhoSXFHY9RnlfuBGQmFK2i4Hrx4UeY2GLVG3M/s1600/Haskell-20110117-00001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Before the trip, aside from reading, I was teaching some dance and gymnastics here and there. The small town rec center has a few pieces of old gym equipment, so we make fun out of it! The wobbly, wooden balance beam reminds me of my days at <strike>Internment Camp</strike>, Gymnastics Camp. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sorry, that was terrible. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixx5OMN9OOo1NvvUl0_5IICqU3Ufn_ZpmrIzcbEmhcIt5YI0icNnVzfGOCYwAZL22gHchY-rkjfQzLHyHYIkQo0cJsHxBiaFsMj_l4dkdjbOjT1iKuGeYgRZT3Xn_g7ORov4zTan82ny8/s1600/IMG-20110115-00242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixx5OMN9OOo1NvvUl0_5IICqU3Ufn_ZpmrIzcbEmhcIt5YI0icNnVzfGOCYwAZL22gHchY-rkjfQzLHyHYIkQo0cJsHxBiaFsMj_l4dkdjbOjT1iKuGeYgRZT3Xn_g7ORov4zTan82ny8/s400/IMG-20110115-00242.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As you can see, I'm a slave driver. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've also been chronicling the progress of our NEW SUMMER HOME!! We call it -- The Bungalow. A quaint 30'x20' paradise we're looking forward to calling home. My husband has been doing tremendous amounts of work on this place, prior to his trip. His cousin has been helping a ton, and my dad even drove down for a week to do some work. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTo8fd1PkAylZwJZLjIcaWnDfwQ-1kDCAIOSdIK20I-1fB2u-OxyUBZ6UoA-cxPx82YziczXkcGyNTf4PP9ZqpOSVVbKrdVXhuBwQX2cbkFVsx5XgsKhJ9yCyhwEAaS71GxMfovpm5z64/s1600/Haskell-20110111-00215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTo8fd1PkAylZwJZLjIcaWnDfwQ-1kDCAIOSdIK20I-1fB2u-OxyUBZ6UoA-cxPx82YziczXkcGyNTf4PP9ZqpOSVVbKrdVXhuBwQX2cbkFVsx5XgsKhJ9yCyhwEAaS71GxMfovpm5z64/s400/Haskell-20110111-00215.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My husband and his cousin installing a door on the side of the house</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Despite the photo, we haven't gotten too much snow in the small town, which ironically is the only place people are wanting it! Go figure, farming community. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7zP9bAgILCIggwnqXiYx8xzx8oxCzibgIDgJZsX9u0BTps0yFQk_r0qqsAcHO8O5u8RJvoSbXP0dJKVw9ETF0fn-kkh6kGyos7xHunRG1a4urheJh8VxJtOPbs5syv04PIeBZr1gRl4/s1600/Haskell-20110119-00011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7zP9bAgILCIggwnqXiYx8xzx8oxCzibgIDgJZsX9u0BTps0yFQk_r0qqsAcHO8O5u8RJvoSbXP0dJKVw9ETF0fn-kkh6kGyos7xHunRG1a4urheJh8VxJtOPbs5syv04PIeBZr1gRl4/s400/Haskell-20110119-00011.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My husband is my making slight amendments to the dimensions of the house :)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While dad was in town, I took the opportunity to try some new recipes. I'm proud of my adventuresome in-laws who humor me and partake. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They even like it sometimes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I tried:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Sherried Tomato Soup </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Pesto, Spinach, Mushroom Lasagna</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Eggplant Meat Bake</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Artisan Bread</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Pizza Dough Bread</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yes, many of the recipes didn't even have meat and were still well received. They were all great, I kept all the recipes and I'm willing to share. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next, my husband, his dad and a few others packed up and headed south. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Way</i> south. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like 2,000 miles south. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They went to deliver supplies to a Central American country in this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWadrlYn8MgL14Rw8V0aizGIZrDjeuvSybUBaNnlmhN1Bx7zZhj8gCdIRKlMdHPjCSXN6k1B841jcuQBB__xRPQ-Pq_IQ5WAzfjwzlBS7yx24t3YLYlkJVmKrTUSbvCG83uTF1CHneQ4/s1600/IMG-20110111-00219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWadrlYn8MgL14Rw8V0aizGIZrDjeuvSybUBaNnlmhN1Bx7zZhj8gCdIRKlMdHPjCSXN6k1B841jcuQBB__xRPQ-Pq_IQ5WAzfjwzlBS7yx24t3YLYlkJVmKrTUSbvCG83uTF1CHneQ4/s400/IMG-20110111-00219.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">His dad taking off tape from the beautiful new paint job. Thought he looked like a fly on the windshield :)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Really. Yes, it will take a while. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so I went north.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">During the biggest snowstorm of the millennium. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Did I make the right decision? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I picture myself on a bus (eating, sleeping, showering) for at least 2 weeks straight. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Oh yes</i>, I made the right decision. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I drove north for a wedding (through snow), had a great time at the wedding, despite freezing my buns off (more snow), drove to my home town - the big city!!! (through snow). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've been spending some much needed time with family and friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X2Pf6KcULQEuAjjV3U1-cpTeu1exdjIGd41ujck2CnntmyhcG2xXkH924SA7K_1xioY07CwFUDoq2XQxLuQYK25wRAHKb7GzQZa0o8aCqnzQbsw7U8Su1SkCeqcnSREZFHYHFrnifiE/s1600/IMG-20110126-00099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X2Pf6KcULQEuAjjV3U1-cpTeu1exdjIGd41ujck2CnntmyhcG2xXkH924SA7K_1xioY07CwFUDoq2XQxLuQYK25wRAHKb7GzQZa0o8aCqnzQbsw7U8Su1SkCeqcnSREZFHYHFrnifiE/s400/IMG-20110126-00099.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister enjoying her gourmet garlic grilled cheese</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sister and I had a rewarding date to the dentist followed by shopping and lunch. We were so spoiled growing up. Our dentist's office is downtown in a really fun, posh, historic shopping district. We loved going to there, because mom would always take us to get chocolate phosphates at the Chocolatier after our appointments. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Woe to you if you had to get the fluoride treatment that day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I grew up and found no satisfaction with other dentists, and my sister just hasn't gone since she moved out! Ha!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Actually, she had a better report than me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She has impeccable oral hygiene, taking her toothbrush and floss to work everyday. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wZInJ33fzUYOfwVivx5VakfUdVquBmykAD5H0A5bJyY0VL8l-fQFu7RsB7Tz2tZyBRBM0wN3EE_VPHb-2bjd0p9xctGrTZydFz4-1OUxVW3WyBQjAkuNOAdAFTwToon9zn7GBOrQ_KI/s1600/IMG-20110126-00100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wZInJ33fzUYOfwVivx5VakfUdVquBmykAD5H0A5bJyY0VL8l-fQFu7RsB7Tz2tZyBRBM0wN3EE_VPHb-2bjd0p9xctGrTZydFz4-1OUxVW3WyBQjAkuNOAdAFTwToon9zn7GBOrQ_KI/s400/IMG-20110126-00100.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salad including lots of funny things like falafle crumbles</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Delicious local vegetarian restaurant. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not one, but I usually take the opportunity when I'm away from the small town to ingest less cow. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglWcc0gu-YEbqwe4ACNkZhRZG8RTCJ1cOYDIr7K9XeaLagMhseWIP3n0T8yfBQwyss457T27I0ShashFzSFJ2rfpRjmB5oOrtsbe46pkX2VX4g7eCZM0YLWDv2JbLZog_kVtOAbiqGDxk/s1600/IMG-20110127-00150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglWcc0gu-YEbqwe4ACNkZhRZG8RTCJ1cOYDIr7K9XeaLagMhseWIP3n0T8yfBQwyss457T27I0ShashFzSFJ2rfpRjmB5oOrtsbe46pkX2VX4g7eCZM0YLWDv2JbLZog_kVtOAbiqGDxk/s400/IMG-20110127-00150.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sushi, sashimi, edamame, oh my!</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Which inevitably includes a Sushi house, right? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dinner with mom and littler sister. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TK8SnIIfFu4Zp5VrND7P0TfxJpAkxm6jf3yFBVxKuLX0EMmOq2jCdDhOdS5m2gBramB_rLbhexdpG7L0sLLDdhPVMxJuHZVQxa_xPJ71XUqRG6qJrEjnm0iUBFdpO9r16W0IxQhfGbk/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110129-00155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TK8SnIIfFu4Zp5VrND7P0TfxJpAkxm6jf3yFBVxKuLX0EMmOq2jCdDhOdS5m2gBramB_rLbhexdpG7L0sLLDdhPVMxJuHZVQxa_xPJ71XUqRG6qJrEjnm0iUBFdpO9r16W0IxQhfGbk/s400/Prairie+Village-20110129-00155.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little sis and mom checking out her new camera</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My sister was also getting ready for an interview later that day for a feature article on her biz. Go K!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIwjSLBXD-jKp92_yf3HxjreGQzdaL4KzILFcy1_R4TxvUgDZNGLDJTYs2EyY00QUqfHHofggOcGlgMBQXWkb5zAdppmSW-rRsqWFimiIJxMtuZ5qSz1X_mcO-KY_7cAZVQ5oFC9oZJs/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110201-00170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIwjSLBXD-jKp92_yf3HxjreGQzdaL4KzILFcy1_R4TxvUgDZNGLDJTYs2EyY00QUqfHHofggOcGlgMBQXWkb5zAdppmSW-rRsqWFimiIJxMtuZ5qSz1X_mcO-KY_7cAZVQ5oFC9oZJs/s400/Prairie+Village-20110201-00170.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La mia sorella - la famosa :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, I continue to cook on the road. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgO6IVr4f2YsIhSBSUgWQEhO2nTIXxXhxvuPBbzgVuhMOh6WQ71N_5SXCmBDVh7kAp1TPZxgxRXc26PwmYtA_7LAppNZJRTxdKcUBNE2QzRRm8J344sgr8a9tOvHM6W-95VGyDu7bTWo/s1600/IMG-20110129-00151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgO6IVr4f2YsIhSBSUgWQEhO2nTIXxXhxvuPBbzgVuhMOh6WQ71N_5SXCmBDVh7kAp1TPZxgxRXc26PwmYtA_7LAppNZJRTxdKcUBNE2QzRRm8J344sgr8a9tOvHM6W-95VGyDu7bTWo/s400/IMG-20110129-00151.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leftover spinach dip from Veg Restaurant mixed with eggs</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mom took a bunch of photos with her new camera, insisting excitedly that it looked like <i>"Green Eggs and Ham!</i>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yeah, she's ready to be a grandma :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, I continue to raid her recipes. I love my mom's recipes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I appreciate them all the more, as I get older and realize there is <i>no one</i> who cooks like her. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, for the most part, it's not what you want to eat when you want some good, wholesome, home-cooked comfort food (and now with my mother-in-law, I have the best of both worlds!!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But when you want clean, refreshing, light and pure gastronomy, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">my mom's your gal. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'll share one I remember well from my childhood years. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">How many mid-western girls do you know who regularly got Tabouli in the '80's and early '90's? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">How many had even heard of garbanzo beans? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUZ5X_eFL2EZzhYAtIoeo4RyO-gkk4YBtuTdoXk7vieICcyorV77Jf9s17_7u-sVUAcJnYO83m2N6zyg2F8RfrvcUJArNhhb80vVkcifm96I9CZC77CzDgjNLbnzRi0K3aUJpIUZW5aY/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110126-00117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUZ5X_eFL2EZzhYAtIoeo4RyO-gkk4YBtuTdoXk7vieICcyorV77Jf9s17_7u-sVUAcJnYO83m2N6zyg2F8RfrvcUJArNhhb80vVkcifm96I9CZC77CzDgjNLbnzRi0K3aUJpIUZW5aY/s400/Prairie+Village-20110126-00117.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYAhipb78cUf_nr8Vt6kqZ52W0__96Ka1KgxsdXaEkBLMYPtq7Uh8_rROaV7G8n5aiQBBxXNyE7GGsbWxI4_UAVcL4yvEeEtVqYBqBxLikyS2IsyWc_4TLBhRgxU139uReFAllE8K-wA/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110126-00118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYAhipb78cUf_nr8Vt6kqZ52W0__96Ka1KgxsdXaEkBLMYPtq7Uh8_rROaV7G8n5aiQBBxXNyE7GGsbWxI4_UAVcL4yvEeEtVqYBqBxLikyS2IsyWc_4TLBhRgxU139uReFAllE8K-wA/s400/Prairie+Village-20110126-00118.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And a classic from my mother-in-law for you, for good measure :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl-ZxZ-odlCZBX2C_nkKV8PUITPhTS42xoOVDZLQ3UzQ2aQ99IQnB0HR_DuZqwPWtGo6ir-zTAk-9MVVTokRTbdkeFFOmwDmCzvwhEiR6bUlcdgAGgQGcVGytvGhO1Be1TMb8cKR5juXU/s1600/IMG-20110113-00227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl-ZxZ-odlCZBX2C_nkKV8PUITPhTS42xoOVDZLQ3UzQ2aQ99IQnB0HR_DuZqwPWtGo6ir-zTAk-9MVVTokRTbdkeFFOmwDmCzvwhEiR6bUlcdgAGgQGcVGytvGhO1Be1TMb8cKR5juXU/s400/IMG-20110113-00227.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhubarb Cobbler -- a church pot-luck staple!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Though I'd had lentils and bulgar, I'd never had a lick of rhubarb till I moved to the small town.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My husband will be eating beans and rice soon -- actually, probably he'll be eating a lot of cereal. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I figured out Skype (how nifty), and spent evenings chatting with him up until they crossed the border and lost connection early this morning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDwl7b3hYKccOZgyr5GDat4Fy6fTtzSmnQX5gezoe14_YWW_m4OcBkQoDOJaZ1WilJiZbjgfuzQDaqGistIfb48Dnj7BUJ1Cx6MW3EWuIKKddWznmVJ9IOqJeMRXcYGjlmTPivFY-gcA/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110130-00162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDwl7b3hYKccOZgyr5GDat4Fy6fTtzSmnQX5gezoe14_YWW_m4OcBkQoDOJaZ1WilJiZbjgfuzQDaqGistIfb48Dnj7BUJ1Cx6MW3EWuIKKddWznmVJ9IOqJeMRXcYGjlmTPivFY-gcA/s400/Prairie+Village-20110130-00162.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's been a long trip already...come back soon!!!</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I didn't believe the weathermen, but they were right. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It snowed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For hours on end. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilo-5FWc6rEWPtntU-i3CNGHh96au4hOUaIvTiTjL3FBOnpwclxGh8UdKuWjwqsn2b-X-IYDzwokrWVywAYUQUMgRPzZ11A92BLO17DevLVd8YgUBvOk_kX9E_HJUjfldiU8V0aCMjlmM/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110201-00174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilo-5FWc6rEWPtntU-i3CNGHh96au4hOUaIvTiTjL3FBOnpwclxGh8UdKuWjwqsn2b-X-IYDzwokrWVywAYUQUMgRPzZ11A92BLO17DevLVd8YgUBvOk_kX9E_HJUjfldiU8V0aCMjlmM/s400/Prairie+Village-20110201-00174.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">10 a.m.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Tdd_RW3kB6WjIQ_8OHPclnC5SynSRG8MTzesFnulkKY1ez4lE2nXhOuTCvo5ooEw-EUpM2RWZw3wsaI-dAkfk5RbVrvmsc-f_NdvjiTvA4OWD6C2myA1kD2ElU1Ypir9oP2-Oa28qnE/s1600/Prairie+Village-20110201-00178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Tdd_RW3kB6WjIQ_8OHPclnC5SynSRG8MTzesFnulkKY1ez4lE2nXhOuTCvo5ooEw-EUpM2RWZw3wsaI-dAkfk5RbVrvmsc-f_NdvjiTvA4OWD6C2myA1kD2ElU1Ypir9oP2-Oa28qnE/s400/Prairie+Village-20110201-00178.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 p.m.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> And now I'm stuck here indefinitely. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dad and I dressed up like Eskimos and walked to the grocery store today. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For fun. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We do things like that. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUihPtQOo2fvJwfYAQQlKDdDMAhjs-1pKjHZo1LSOLeSXzpGOtlbi0nEB9Af1pr5O9-yJKLa0jVc5blT4-DSWqlrjGJv13uOnPJ0Y0kE4WpEdS2kfB0yXy9qqN_crGqfbpiAw2rSXkN4/s1600/2011-02-01+17.29.46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUihPtQOo2fvJwfYAQQlKDdDMAhjs-1pKjHZo1LSOLeSXzpGOtlbi0nEB9Af1pr5O9-yJKLa0jVc5blT4-DSWqlrjGJv13uOnPJ0Y0kE4WpEdS2kfB0yXy9qqN_crGqfbpiAw2rSXkN4/s400/2011-02-01+17.29.46.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then, he took this pic and sent it to his friend saying he made his pregnant daughter shovel the drive :)</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Truth is he wouldn't let me outside. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But that didn't stop me, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and I did get (a little) shoveling in :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Good night. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stay warm. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Or stay cool if you are south of the border. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-30120832678012248802011-01-05T21:51:00.001-06:002011-01-07T13:19:04.421-06:00If the Hat Fits...My dad bought a bunch of baseball caps for like $2. He bought at least 20 baseball caps of all sorts. My sister asked him why he bought all those funny baseball caps, and he said, "Because they were only $2."<br />
Makes sense.<br />
<br />
He thoroughly sifted through them and mentally assigned caps to people. The TCU caps for my sister (who spent one semester there her freshman year), the windmill hat for my husband, the GEM hat for his friend he'd taken to the Gem Theatre, the Bob Marley hats for...oh I'm sure he had someone in mind.<br />
and for me,<br />
the Trucker Girl hat.<br />
<br />
Cool, dad. Thanks.<br />
So yeah, I did go and marry this guy who works on farms and stuff.<br />
And yeah, <i>maybe</i> he does drive big trucks. Sometimes. And maybe I've been in them with him. Occasionally.<br />
But isn't this a little extreme?<br />
<br />
In addition, my husband thought the hat was way cute. It's brown with lavender accents, says '<i>Trucker Girl,' </i>in fancy Calligraphic type, has dainty little angel wings on either side of the words, and says '<i>Kenworth,' </i>on it somewhere. I think on the back. (**side note: for those of you unawares, Kenworth is a big trucking company). I left it in the Middle City for the winter.<br />
<br />
And we've ventured back to the small town and settled in for the long winter.<br />
So to speak. <br />
<br />
We've been here 3 weeks, and it feels like 3 months. Time moves slowly here, and to tell you the truth, I love that. <br />
<br />
What I love most about the winter is that I get to see my husband all the time. And I love that.<br />
We hang out.<br />
We do projects. <br />
We buy semi-trucks.<br />
<br />
That's normal, right? Three years of marriage to this man and nothing should surprise me now. So when he started to talk about buying a truck to haul a trailer (the fact that I know different kinds of trailers is a whole other fun story) to carry a new seed cleaner that he's planning on building, I didn't think much of it. I mean, I really had no frame of reference of what would come to pass.<br />
<br />
And now...<br />
we have a semi-truck.<br />
<br />
A semi.<br />
<br />
Like the ones you see on the road and try to pass real fast because you don't want to get caught behind them.<br />
<br />
A semi.<br />
<br />
Ok, and now that we've established that, it's actually kinda pretty. It's red, extremely spacious, and apparently electronically genius. It runs all sorts of diagnostic tests as it loads -- er -- starts up.<br />
It's a genius.<br />
And it's just the front part.<br />
I guess that's how you buy them -- trailers sold separately. Sometimes you see them driving on the highway like that, driving around, a lonely little front part.<br />
You sort of feel sorry for them.<br />
But it's a little cute, too.<br />
<br />
Ok, but seriously, it's a semi.<br />
<br />
It's just too bad I forgot the hat. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAiXSWto7GbvfAEJpC1LMy-DCNsdS5vHnJZM3nweKBVlAGUZ-BJHfvLdxiWevHV-WONkDRj6a1jpL8XlegKTmMO46ovGWQaV-V2nF3kKLVCyGu41hNVqpQZl3wTXtCyeZh_tcoLQnayrk/s320/IMG-20101228-00147.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Checking over the merchandise </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBf0JNCZ_y9Fvip7jx2HI4b3N6llNJRBPB0n7iyyFMIjPCnNDmZhhhz0gEk7SOK-TIrJ9bGkCDsfiulaCZiUDB1JPU7dnGWsN-XRuhtXRwj1ggzptEh80MSw5nf74d_AJgTq-dpaLUjeE/s1600/IMG-20101228-00149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBf0JNCZ_y9Fvip7jx2HI4b3N6llNJRBPB0n7iyyFMIjPCnNDmZhhhz0gEk7SOK-TIrJ9bGkCDsfiulaCZiUDB1JPU7dnGWsN-XRuhtXRwj1ggzptEh80MSw5nf74d_AJgTq-dpaLUjeE/s320/IMG-20101228-00149.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My husband (on the right) and the nice gentleman</div><div style="text-align: center;">who sold him the truck</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCjs5kG6E8sNEYeVDg1fiUHoKvRhh2gEZ7yOC28TqL2dehjdtyG9HsRKIOFGx7R2MKEGkFXpoo-b1lufL8iBcZ3jsk4DtZbCUkROQN1Ayktq-PvKD6TC4N4wPH-xh8dbaaGGb1Xjzlw4/s1600/IMG-20101228-00150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCjs5kG6E8sNEYeVDg1fiUHoKvRhh2gEZ7yOC28TqL2dehjdtyG9HsRKIOFGx7R2MKEGkFXpoo-b1lufL8iBcZ3jsk4DtZbCUkROQN1Ayktq-PvKD6TC4N4wPH-xh8dbaaGGb1Xjzlw4/s320/IMG-20101228-00150.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">vroom vroom...</div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-39459582782037864722010-11-30T22:33:00.002-06:002010-12-03T16:25:15.371-06:00Ugly DucklingIt took me a while to grow into the woman <i>I</i> was supposed to be.<br />
Mostly because I really thought I could make it work mimicking other peoples' lives.<br />
<br />
And it's understandable to some degree. We grow up being asked, "Who are your idols?" The whole drive behind retail marketing is "I want what she has."<br />
And <i>oh man</i>, did that work on me. <br />
<br />
I mean, it would have worked better if I'd have had more money :-) but still, it worked. I grew up thinking that there were a whole lot of things that I lacked.<br />
<br />
My two, earliest unmet desires I can remember were:<br />
<br />
1. I want curly hair<br />
2. I want white bread (I actually wrote this one in a little wish book!)<br />
<br />
My hair was pretty and shiny and brown, but straight, and I longed for the cute little curly-q's that I saw on Annie or Shirley Temple.<br />
<br />
Also, my mom had a degree in home economics and was a licensed dietitian (darn it). The only white bread we ever saw was when we visited the lake and got some to feed the ducks. <i> </i><br />
<i>Don't think I didn't snag a little. </i><br />
<br />
But probably the way this most manifested itself in my life was through gymnastics. I wanted to do gymnastics (and did gymnastics) for as long as I can remember. But, it was always somewhat of a battle for me, as it never seemed to come easy or naturally. But I loved it, and even more, I loved the atmosphere and image that surrounded and associated with it. I loved that people saw me as someone who worked hard, long hours, and sacrificed normal childhood and adolescent stuff to achieve greater accomplishments. <br />
<br />
Why I say it didn't come "naturally," is that I really don't think I was built for the sport. I became strong through daily 5 hour workouts, but naturally, had a very weak upper body. I had long arms and very long legs which isn't exactly how most successful gymnasts are built. At least I was fairly short, mostly just because I was a late bloomer, and didn't reach my full height till late in high school.<br />
<br />
On the uneven bars and vault, I was really...quite terrible.<br />
I'm not kidding.<br />
<br />
I made it work, but it was a struggle. In the lower levels of gymnastics, you compete "compulsory" routines, meaning, everyone does the same exact required moves. I worked hard to complete my compulsory bar and vault routines at an average level, but my bar and vault skills were always about 2 levels below my floor exercise and balance beam skills. When I reached the "optional" levels where you could compose your own routines, I did a little better, working creatively with my weaknesses on these events. <br />
<br />
But on the balance beam and floor exercise, I flourished.<br />
<br />
I was an adequate tumbler, and liked learning new and creative skills. But really, my strength was in my dancing, and my ability to compose a nicely flowing routine, with a flair that was unique. That is really what carried my whole performance.<br />
<br />
See, I was built like a dancer...<br />
...and I resented it so much.<br />
<br />
Though I was not that tall, I looked like I was. I had long slender legs and willowy-long arms and long graceful looking fingers. I wanted so badly to be built <i>like a gymnast!</i> I wanted to have short legs so I could run fast and propel myself with power over the vault, instead of running "like a gazelle" as it had been said about me. How embarrassing! I wanted strong arms and shoulders that strength moves on the bars required and thick stubby hands that could better take the wear and tear of swinging around the bars. My delicate hands got blisters so quickly and my long legs made it so difficult to swing in between the bars. <br />
<br />
But the reality was, I was not a "powerhouse" as some gymnasts are described.<br />
Even though I squeezed so relentlessly into that mold.<br />
<br />
I despised dance class, and would always choose the "wide" mirror because it made me look shorter, stockier, and more muscular -- more like a gymnast! Other than that, I didn't look in mirrors too much, and just <i>imagined</i> myself looking like other girls. It took me well into high school to come to grips with the fact that I probably wasn't going to change my age or genetic structure and qualify for the Olympics, or even a college scholarship. It was until after numerous injuries, setbacks, and comments (which I usually despised) from onlookers about what a beautiful dancer I was, that I finally, slowly, reluctantly, even a bit ashamedly, made the transition to taking dance classes full time.<br />
<br />
And oh how I loved it.<br />
<br />
I started out taking mostly ballet classes, as the discipline and rigidity of the form was familiar to how I had trained as a gymnast. Eventually in college, but mostly after college, I started tackling other forms like jazz, modern, and even improvisational -- which is a lot like free choreography -- what I loved most about gymnastics.<br />
<br />
I felt like the ugly ducking who had found her true family. <br />
<br />
What is most difficult, and what I love the most about improvisation and choreography is that I can't copy it from anyone else. Instead of mimicking a movement or style, I get to display, in the form of dance, the uniqueness that was built into me...(and sometimes I even sneak in a gymnastics move or two). <br />
<br />
What a gift...and a privilege. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOSPL4OSKzg68q1rpQRnBUfXH_XYR36VpYTOYmXh8AIYUSEdaGVfaKWC7EhlCrf0GXM_pWY56lFVVTMNx_yjS0e7LYDH8phohrO07ceoBfrWIPRaizV22dq0aqAhA8S9gO-2901VqWkE8/s1600/US-team.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOSPL4OSKzg68q1rpQRnBUfXH_XYR36VpYTOYmXh8AIYUSEdaGVfaKWC7EhlCrf0GXM_pWY56lFVVTMNx_yjS0e7LYDH8phohrO07ceoBfrWIPRaizV22dq0aqAhA8S9gO-2901VqWkE8/s400/US-team.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1atb0IZDMiy8tfTK4aYPpJMdcLYJR0Gs7nNyZCwhQbo6a2UWql8eI02Rd9w7g0s6m4oHBaUyXV0Mg66UfV7bPbU6dErpBQzPnjLkUaPa2dFf2S0zs22Z-VKGyoaFWlfyl4t7Sh7gNws/s1600/Kim-Zmeskal-Feet-126034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1atb0IZDMiy8tfTK4aYPpJMdcLYJR0Gs7nNyZCwhQbo6a2UWql8eI02Rd9w7g0s6m4oHBaUyXV0Mg66UfV7bPbU6dErpBQzPnjLkUaPa2dFf2S0zs22Z-VKGyoaFWlfyl4t7Sh7gNws/s400/Kim-Zmeskal-Feet-126034.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> My "idol" circa 1992, Kim Zmeskal</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6CXsAIIOMqAI7WZAJlSe_eXKjgpY06te_qOj19wAuT559OIC9lIvNl1unWgq1l9EMUdORIvrDvuBOV2GvcYASDStYSVVTp8u4kYCptDuMtji3-vAJs3s1VbKfex7I3QjtZcWzJfvLuRs/s1600/Manhattan+City-20101130-00093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6CXsAIIOMqAI7WZAJlSe_eXKjgpY06te_qOj19wAuT559OIC9lIvNl1unWgq1l9EMUdORIvrDvuBOV2GvcYASDStYSVVTp8u4kYCptDuMtji3-vAJs3s1VbKfex7I3QjtZcWzJfvLuRs/s320/Manhattan+City-20101130-00093.jpg" width="240" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">High School Gymnastics - circa 1999</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitUI-qIrHkGOPw7YR8O0oogKkyDQ_ZGTRTtt378CzGK8M6XC11f9TaX8q3mejZ7mjZaMnIGHdcSKfzcuRui10P62vhwKvirXKqB44KGI5AwQn8_XEy5cpKh0BIs45C16t-1OKaOrXBHcQ/s1600/ballet_dancer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitUI-qIrHkGOPw7YR8O0oogKkyDQ_ZGTRTtt378CzGK8M6XC11f9TaX8q3mejZ7mjZaMnIGHdcSKfzcuRui10P62vhwKvirXKqB44KGI5AwQn8_XEy5cpKh0BIs45C16t-1OKaOrXBHcQ/s1600/ballet_dancer.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-41045314703767813382010-10-26T17:42:00.000-05:002010-10-26T17:42:32.619-05:00The Social NetworkFor 2 hours<br />
on Saturday night,<br />
I felt like I was back in college.<br />
<br />
As I watched the movie, "The Social Network," it was so easy to slip into the scenes with the characters, and feel like I was there, living the story alongside them.<br />
<br />
Besides being in college at about the same time as the characters, you wouldn't think we have much in common...<br />
<br />
<ul><li>I wasn't a computer hacker or a technology junkie who spent long nights in front of the screen. </li>
</ul><ul><li>I didn't belong to a fraternity, or an elite club, or a secret society. (I <i>was</i> in a sorority however, and even though I was a lackluster member at times, I saw my fair share of Greek nonsense, and normal college party nonsense in general - maybe that's <i>why </i>I was a lackluster member. And in fact I <i>still</i> see the nonsense oftentimes, seeing as how I still live in my college town.)</li>
</ul><ul><li>I didn't attend Harvard or any Ivy-League or private school. </li>
</ul> But...<br />
<br />
The girls I saw depicted in the show were the same as so many I saw here at college. Lonely, desperate for approval, willing to deal themselves out like candy or drugs to sedate a partner who cares less about them than what they can offer in the moment. <br />
<br />
I remember late nights with friends and acquaintances, not coding the infrastructure for the next hot web craze, but witnessing the same demons that coaxed it into existence...<br />
<br />
<i>Too much time on our hands. </i><br />
I know. Nobody will admit to it in college. Because if you ask them how they are doing, or what they are up to, "Tired," and "Busy," will be their responses. We stayed up late solving the problems of the world, chatting on IM with our friends down the hall, and downloading music, and walked around like zombies during the day. During all my schooling before college, I was much more productively busy - probably even a little too busy. But an abundance of free time in college meant that it became filled with meaningless crap that made me "feel busy." My husband swears I refused a date with him because I was "washing my hair." (Of course that's not true, but I'm sure I had a really great excuse.)<br />
<br />
<i>Too shut in.</i><br />
What? How can this be? College is all about freedom! <i> </i><br />
I remember sitting in my freshman dorm room, staring at my roommate's gecko that lived in a cage on top of our microwave (yeah), and feeling like I could relate to him. Living devoid of the rhythms of real life can take it's toll, even without us knowing. No bills to pay (not many at least), No meals to cook (unless I wanted Ramen instead of the fifty gourmet dining hall options), No bathroom to clean, really no chores at all (besides that pesky laundry that you throw in one giant load once a month), I start filling my time with other nonsense (like mentioned above). Despite the appearance of wildness, craziness, college is quite a controlled environment.<br />
I think I went 3 years without ever seeing a child. <br />
I exaggerate...<br />
...but seriously, what a normal day consists of with all it's distractions, interruptions, breakdowns, and mishaps, can much of time, be strategically avoided on the college campus. <br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>Too much introspection. </i><i> </i> <br />
First Sociology 101, then Psychology, then Social Psychology... Philosophy... and soon the world unravels into a bowl of noodles. Up becomes down, right could be left, even if it's still right, and backward and forward meet somewhere in the middle.<br />
It's like... <br />
The world is my Wii and I alone hold the nunchuk.<br />
Literally...<br />
Because I completely don't get video games...<br />
but I'm left in charge of the whole thing.<br />
It's like a dream I had once where I was driving a huge van, and I was doing it from the back row, I could barely see the windshield, and felt totally out of control. <br />
And so is college, that after a few semesters of heavy introspection, I no longer know who I am or what I stand for, just that I need to be thriving, or creating, or doing something cool and worthy of the attention of my peers. <br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Too much emphasis on "finding my place."</i><br />
This is similar to the introspection, but also adds the ever coveted, ever illusive dimension of "being happy." This is the idea that my happiness and fitting in is a most important thing. Mom and dad worry when they call and find me watching a movie alone in my dorm room on Saturday night. But when I'm out of commission until 2 p.m. Saturday because I drank too much jungle juice and was left at a frat house by a "friend," who found a ride "home" to another one, the same parents think, "Well, at least she's adjusting socially." This is not a <i>real</i> occurrence, but I've seen a hundred like it, and two hundred worse. <br />
<br />
What I'm saying is that (according to the movie - and <i>numerous</i> articles about the real birth of Facebook I admit to reading) the guys who made Facebook, and most everybody I walked around campus with, have these things in common. I'm not saying it's bad that they did it. Obviously it was an amazing idea that had a useful enough place in our society that 500 million people use it semi-regularly, myself included. <br />
<br />
I just find it very interesting to see how some of the most prevalent and integral parts of our daily lives in this society came to be. <br />
<br />
I'm not one to say I rely on media. My husband can even testify to the fact I'm always joking about wanting to live a "wire less" existence, not as in more wi-fi, but as in, no electronics. Last week we spent a day "fasting," with some of the church, from electronics, and I'm embarrassed to say that it was quite difficult. One of the hardest times was when I was cooking dinner. Food was in the oven and on the stove, and all that was left to do was wait, and my natural inclination was to go look at blogs, check my email, or of course, Facebook. I couldn't do any of those things and I had the <i>teeny-tiniest</i> moment of panic. What <i>do </i>I do with the next 30 minutes to unwind?<br />
<br />
I admit, I think we went to bed at about 9 o'clock that night!<br />
<br />
Again, I have nothing against Facebook. To some degree, it's driven by relationships, which is a good thing. "People want to go on the Internet and check out their friends, so why not build a website that offers that," Facebook creator's character is quoted saying in the movie.<br />
<br />
But he goes on to say, "I'm talking about taking the entire social experience of college, and putting it online." Of course now, Facebook has expanded way beyond college students, offering membership to anyone with an email account, so <i>anyone </i>in <i>any </i>social group in society, anywhere in the world can be on. But the fact remains that Facebook wasn't birthed out of just any experience, it was birthed out of the <i>college</i> experience, namely the Facebook creator's college experience and his desire to make something, out of himself (literally and figuratively.)<br />
<br />
And at all costs - something cool. <br />
<br />
And so I'm wondering...just...wondering...<br />
<br />
How many of us now strive to maintain a Facebook or blog persona that is cooler, fits in more, is flashier, sweeter, friendlier, funnier, cuter, more outgoing, encouraging, and holier than the person on the other side of the screen?<br />
<br />
You don't have to tell me. I'll never know. I'll just keep admiring you from afar. :-)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmq0ZQZt6zZhtSnOerQrd7FrHGIQ7XmskvJMiogVMLmzCJgLWcERdvDTKo1eOj3cmOL8lrzU0AnXo4QDVKeOQt6hl4RYlCCZiNHZuADCrPDw6M0NVA-41AzMf3fJE_7Q8B8veWkDVIWPE/s1600/The-Social-Network.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmq0ZQZt6zZhtSnOerQrd7FrHGIQ7XmskvJMiogVMLmzCJgLWcERdvDTKo1eOj3cmOL8lrzU0AnXo4QDVKeOQt6hl4RYlCCZiNHZuADCrPDw6M0NVA-41AzMf3fJE_7Q8B8veWkDVIWPE/s400/The-Social-Network.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-48342273499715218542010-10-21T20:03:00.000-05:002010-10-21T20:03:28.615-05:00A New SeasonMid-October marks a new season for us.<br />
<br />
We are "officially" done with summer work and "officially back" in the mid-size city.<br />
<br />
I "officially" started teaching last week. Which basically just means that I transferred my moves from my own home back into the studio.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrW1Gxt-vQCkTeX7ddPi4O9df1mcY62D9rAyNFVAXWnXAX8PTEMIgwin3xu_8kXCX-bF4pZqy_EseTgByRjK97kpL3FdqF5pTSCsa1e2w2BFTEjr_Nfh07Jo_toTJoweRNH6-8QlxX8iI/s1600/ballet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrW1Gxt-vQCkTeX7ddPi4O9df1mcY62D9rAyNFVAXWnXAX8PTEMIgwin3xu_8kXCX-bF4pZqy_EseTgByRjK97kpL3FdqF5pTSCsa1e2w2BFTEjr_Nfh07Jo_toTJoweRNH6-8QlxX8iI/s320/ballet.jpg" width="239" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Teaching 7 classes a week. The first week I was still planning, organizing, and getting everything together. This week I think I'm getting into a little more of a groove (no pun intended). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Still, I'm a bit tired. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">7 classes is...enough for me!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This season's line up: Dance Conditioning, Pilates, and Ballet</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Also on the schedule this season - weddings!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXRoec8VWr2sI8cCqAPWol9ca3ydr3AWiFPIr0ePSPiMIRs8RHH2agLBq9_Jrzfi8LhIm4kp8NGYA6Ls5ArxPBHR9ErFounv6IVjWUw8hzK7orMLW-ZjVkX68qmWBnz8gXnOY1uCVwTE/s1600/DSC02827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXRoec8VWr2sI8cCqAPWol9ca3ydr3AWiFPIr0ePSPiMIRs8RHH2agLBq9_Jrzfi8LhIm4kp8NGYA6Ls5ArxPBHR9ErFounv6IVjWUw8hzK7orMLW-ZjVkX68qmWBnz8gXnOY1uCVwTE/s320/DSC02827.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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This one was about an hour away. A friend of my husband from college, they were in campus ministry together. They now attend our "sister church" in their town. It was fun to see a lot of friends we don't often get to see, and celebrate the marriage of this beautiful couple! The wedding ceremony was delightful, despite it being a very blustery day on the 7th floor terrace of this hotel! Fun fact - the pastor who married them was the same one who married us *almost* 3 years ago :)<br />
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And last, but <i>definitely</i> not least...<br />
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THIS!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It hardly needs explaining, right? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">GARAGE CLEAN OUT!!! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A few years ago, we transformed the garage into a laundry room. Before that, the washer and dryer had been in our downstairs apartment, which meant that tenants had to come down to do their laundry. After we got married and I moved in, we decided (thank you!) to move it up. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So my husband and his cousin - who does professional drywall work - put up a wall in the garage making half of it a laundry room and half storage. Until now, the storage part was piled front to back, floor to ceiling. My husband decided (yay!) it was time to go through it. Since then, this back yard extravaganza has decreased by about 70%. The trellis/ gazebo thing barely visible on the left hand side is nearly completely torn down!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There's a lot going on...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stay tuned!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-12662129856725232642010-10-13T22:35:00.001-05:002010-10-13T22:40:37.156-05:00Four Years of DatingThis evening, after we were finishing dinner, I looked up at the clock and realized that today is the anniversary of my husband and I's first date! (I have no pictures of the date, but this is the shirt I wore, so it will have to do!)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdnpLGvuClxc6xWt0G61Kvqblc4iYoMWAVVKaeJ1uPo41Scul7kRteN_8AkzXp55oz5CssUw5wg4_lsXwiUViNg2GR92N5E7HyJEWpYC6NRgLKar20J1go8iuUZUZQvWCJb2VbB-_wRI/s1600/jumping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdnpLGvuClxc6xWt0G61Kvqblc4iYoMWAVVKaeJ1uPo41Scul7kRteN_8AkzXp55oz5CssUw5wg4_lsXwiUViNg2GR92N5E7HyJEWpYC6NRgLKar20J1go8iuUZUZQvWCJb2VbB-_wRI/s320/jumping.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Just prior to this, I had started working as an intern at the church. And as you can tell, a very mature intern at that. When my boss hired me, my job was a new position. As we were hammering out the details, I distinctly remember him saying (jokingly), "Now your contract is for a year, but if something should come up...like you join a dance company...or get married...I'd understand you leaving."<br />
<br />
<i>Both</i> those things happened the next year.<br />
<br />
But back to the first date.<br />
<br />
Friday, October 13.<br />
<br />
I went to a dance class that afternoon as he drove from the "Middletown" where he lived, and now we both live, to the Big City where I lived. His brother lived in the Big City at the time too, so I drove to his house to meet him.<br />
<br />
I was SO nervous on the way over. I write when I'm nervous and used to journal a lot. So, yes, I <i>wrote</i> while I drove. Scribbled all over a scrap of paper I had in the car. Probably wrote a little more in the car sitting in the driveway. Finally got up the courage to get out of the car and go up to the door. I still remember him opening the door, the blue and white shirt he wore, those beautiful green eyes, blond hair, and oh-so-handsome smile...I digress.<br />
<br />
"Hey! It's been a while," I managed to stammer.<br />
<br />
We had not seen each other since graduating from college a year and a half earlier.<br />
<br />
Inside, he had been playing a board game with his brother, and we continued to play well past when we should have left to go to dinner. So, dinner was skipped as I drove home to change and wait for him to pick me up for our evening.<br />
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After the Ballet, we were hungry and decided to go to the grocery store and buy food to cook at home. We took our time, and had fun, even stopped for ice cream on the way. By the time he took me home, it had grown very late, so we decided to save the dinner for the following evening.<br />
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He claims that this was his way of securing a second date. <br />
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The next evening, he came over and we cooked and watched the movie <i>French Kiss</i> with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline. When he left that night, I could already tell, somehow, he was working his way into my heart.<br />
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He was leaving the next day to go back home, so we hung out a little in the afternoon, again at his brother's and then I believe we caught a yoga class. Then, he left...but our back-and-forth courtship/ relationship began (mostly him driving back and forth, because I worked all the time).<br />
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The dating didn't last too long. We decided we'd be better suited as husband and wife. <br />
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Happy Anniversary, to my best and only ex-boyfriend ;)<br />
Thanks for pursuing meAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-6008583721874354922010-10-04T22:09:00.000-05:002010-10-04T22:09:25.610-05:00Bitty BirdThe person who owned the house before my husband spent lots of time and money carefully placing pavers throughout the entire back yard...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz60ZsMM6EMOYx5pOUvL84m5f2rOfHhw8ZVxGCfU16VfLAFoKBi9HN1tmCYHICJSJxC5-c_cgp5HpofAgKsgnZHwlIJBlbc9DsEwz4SohH6OIjxs8izN38FxNh5bVNsjudEMa-VjLjVDk/s1600/36_022407_fs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz60ZsMM6EMOYx5pOUvL84m5f2rOfHhw8ZVxGCfU16VfLAFoKBi9HN1tmCYHICJSJxC5-c_cgp5HpofAgKsgnZHwlIJBlbc9DsEwz4SohH6OIjxs8izN38FxNh5bVNsjudEMa-VjLjVDk/s320/36_022407_fs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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...and I've taken on the task of removing them all one by one, with a shovel, and stacking them in nice neat piles in the corner of the yard.<br />
<br />
While I was working, I came across a tiny little bird. It wasn't quite a baby, maybe a toddler. But, I'd never seen a bird that small in real life. Seriously. Infer what you will, I don't really know how it's possible either. (My husband just read this and informed me he was full grown. That's just the type of bird he was. Who knew?)<br />
<br />
Probably because it was so small and let me get so close to it, I was immediately taken by him (I'm guessing it was a <i>him</i> because he was so pretty). Anyway, he really did let me get <i>very </i>close. He would hop around, and even fly occasionally, but for the most part he just hung out there near me most of the morning. We looked at him pretty closely, wondering if he was hurt or something was wrong. My husband crouched down and peered into his face, and said that his eyes looked a little funny, like maybe he really wanted to fall asleep. Also, he was breathing kind of heavy, but he seemed OK. We called him "bitty bird." <br />
<br />
By the time we were going into eat lunch, I had removed half of the pavers from underneath the wood trellis, and bitty bird had found a little spot in the dirt on the other side where he rested his little head down into his body and went to sleep.<br />
<br />
I came back out an hour later, and sure enough, bitty bird was still in the same spot. But as I got closer I realized that he was no longer sleeping, but had fallen over on his side, and had gently slipped out of birdie sleep and into birdie heaven.<br />
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I had tears in my eyes when I went to go tell my husband. He confirmed it, and we dug a little hole for the birdie burial.<br />
<br />
Why cry over a bird? Because life is precious and intrinsically we all know that. Death isn't cool. Because we weren't meant for death, but for life - abundant life. Everlasting life.<br />
<br />
<i>"Aren't two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's consent. But even the hairs on your head have all been counted. Don't be afraid therefore; you are worth more than many sparrows."</i> Matthew 10:29-31<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxE6JWapYPiADiP2bV90w0684eRrIcUDz4QOXEcbwVWns1Y3fiUzg9mqTVse5WFxbygOxon6FdDilTNO-__gQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;">oops - sideways video</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-84752485068267779812010-09-28T23:17:00.000-05:002010-09-28T23:17:17.878-05:00Just a Typical Tuesday - Plus PaintI'll bet you never thought about who does this:<br />
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Neither did I until I met the man of my prayers. When I found out that painting parking lots was a part of his repertoire of day jobs, I never looked at them the same again.<br />
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You know how when your dating someone, pretty much everything makes you think about them? Well, whenever I saw parking lots (which was whenever I walked outside) I thought of him.<br />
<br />
As if I needed more to obsess and be distracted about. <br />
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Much to the relief of anyone I share the road with, this affliction eventually wore off. In fact, I hardly think about this job much at all. Plus, he does it a lot less frequently now than he used to. <br />
<br />
But then come the days when he gets the phone call that requires pulling the airless-sprayer out of the trailer, cleaning it out, and loading up on tens of gallons of traffic marking paint from Sherwin Williams.<br />
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Some jobs require working through the night for multiple nights (like the mall), because they are full with cars during the rest of the day. Then, there are places like restaurants, which you can usually paint during the day by avoiding the busy eating times.<br />
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Today's job was painting the lots of three small buildings owned by the same company. The job should have taken 2 hours at the most. My husband prepped the machine ahead of time to make sure that everything was ready for a smooth and effortless job.<br />
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After he'd painted about 5 lines, the sprayer stopped spraying. He later determined that a <i>microscopic reflective glass bead</i>, (I know, TMI) had gotten stuck in the tip of the sprayer. So, I got to run across the street to a shop and buy 4 small paint strainers through which we proceeded to strain the...5...gallon...bucket of paint.<br />
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SO...you have noticed that I have made <i>my</i> way into the story. I don't go with him to every job. But lots of jobs, especially when he doesn't have other help, I go.<br />
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One of the translations for the mate God gave Adam was, "help meet" or "help mate." And I completely agree that this is one of my most important roles as a wife. It's just that sometimes...the truth is...it's hard.<br />
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It's hard to help when the work doesn't involve just sweeping your hair up in a nice bun to take a dance class but rather sweeping hundreds of parking stalls with a heavy wire push broom... <br />
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When help doesn't mean moving and choreographing dances for work but moving large paint-soaked boards around to mask off areas...<br />
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When help doesn't mean spraying a pan to bake in but spraying paint on a big handicap sign stencil...while trying to hold it down with my feet...and not use too much paint so we don't run out...<br />
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Even driving the stick-shift truck with the trailer attached, can be...hard.<br />
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These things are hard, mostly just because I'm not used to doing them, and, well, I can just be sort of a wimpy girl when I'm doing something that's new, or that I'm sure I'm so good at, and just really don't want to screw up. And it can get...frustrating...to say the least. <br />
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The good thing is that my husband has patience, and a lot of confidence in me to ask me to do the things he asks me to do with him. Sometimes I think I want him to just be satisfied with me sitting pretty and being a dance teacher. But he's not. He wants and expects more. He wants and expects my help at "his" jobs. And believe it or not, I'm glad. (Just don't tell him)<br />
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Don't get the wrong idea. He helps me out constantly with "my jobs." I don't think I've ever asked him to do one thing, but yet he's found and wired great sound systems for the studios I teach in. He's cut and edited music for me, and even took my Pilates class last year to bolster enrollment - and to tighten his core, of course :)<br />
<br />
In fact, at first it would surprise me that he was so willing to help me do something that he didn't have to do. See, I come from the world of "what's yours is yours and what's mine is mine," and "take responsibility for your own mess," etc. If you don't take care of yourself, look out for yourself, nobody else will, right? <br />
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Nope, as for me and him, we're a team. The other day, we were walking next to each other, and I noticed that our hands were bumping awkwardly together for a few seconds before he took my hand and held it. I thought to myself that this is similar to our walking together through life. Amos 3:3 asks how two people can expect to walk together, if not by agreement? If we try and walk closely together, but we aren't in agreement, and if we are both constantly thinking about going our own direction, the walk will be very clumsy, at best. <br />
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Anyway, the rest of the day was par for the course from that first mishap. He had a hose burst when the engine started smoking, and 2 trips to Home Depot later, we were finally on to the second business, and had lost much of our profit for the job.<br />
<br />
The first time he went to Home Depot, I stayed back to sit with the paint spray machine at the gas station. Two men pulled up in a van and asked how much I wanted for it. I laughed to myself and thought maybe this was my chance to end our problems for the day. But using my better judgement, I replied, "Not for sale!"<br />
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We continued painting, and the new spray tip kept giving him problems, so he'd have to stop and adjust it every few lanes.<br />
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Why do days like this happen?<br />
Days when it just feels like someone is throwing...junk...at you...non-stop?<br />
And you know what's <i>harder </i>than every single <i>hard</i> thing I mentioned above? Is having thing after thing go wrong, and not being able to do anything to fix it. Is watching my husband get so frustrated, and me not being able to make it better. <br />
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Five hours later, with two scoops of ice cream in hand, (one lot we painted was the Baskin Robbins) we were finally on the road home. We ate dinner and now we're sitting, watching an old movie on TV.<br />
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Tired. Sore. Worn out. Together. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-4755686142855514072010-09-20T23:09:00.000-05:002010-09-20T23:09:20.418-05:00I'm Home!As a new blog writer, I have been slow to post, approaching this new art form with caution:<br />
<br />
I've been taking time, carefully considering how much to say about <i>whom</i> I'm saying it about, what to divulge about <i>what</i>, when to talk about the <i>where</i>, and <i>why</i> do any of it at all? Or if it should just be a Suessical? <br />
<br />
Never mind.<br />
<br />
So after much deliberation (and unpacking - the truth is I haven't been deliberating these things much at all. I've been busy moving), I've arrived at some preliminary decisions. <br />
<br />
1. I want to keep some semblance of anonymity. Mostly because I think it's fun. Therefore, I don't plan on using any real names of people or places and will take great enjoyment in making up pseudonyms. I'm a story writer more than a journal-er, and I love historical fiction. Don't get me wrong, everything that I write is absolutely true and from my life. I don't have anything weirder or more interesting I could make up at this point. I will, however, admit to cleverly using mild embellishment to get my point across or elicit emotion - but I will usually just do that to my husband, and not on this blog :)<br />
<br />
That's all.<br />
<br />
So I guess I've just come up with one preliminary conclusion. Good enough for me. Here we go.<br />
<br />
I just got back to Middleville. That's the first pseudonym. Or should it be Middletown? It depends on whether or not I call the place we just came from Smalltown, or Smallville. I kind of like Smallville, then my hubby could be Superman, as he is from this town. Hey - he needs a pseudonym - and our Paraguayan friend calls him "Super-<i>his real name here</i>" on a regular basis. <br />
<br />
But that might be to cheesy, even for me. We'll see. Obviously, I need help. I'm open to suggestion on all fronts. <br />
<br />
I'm from Big City, but I haven't lived there since we got married almost 3 years ago:<br />
<br />
3 summers in Smallville.<br />
3 winters in Middletown.<br />
Sporadic visits to Big City. <br />
<br />
I am here:<br />
(our lovely home. Housemates rent the upstairs, and we have an apartment in the basement.)<br />
<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_P0aOIV5pUPFhJzhqOToFoRmFDlm2yP6-PuA5FRjl3Axwjk-xdQbQqQxrOyNgqjqM4wTDGJaveQbhJtTAoVt9e5c345JoAJIkhi9jueaTtZJv23OPEAW8UnuqRY9811KyNXZ-a2OXVU/s1600/n17003582_37135447_4781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_P0aOIV5pUPFhJzhqOToFoRmFDlm2yP6-PuA5FRjl3Axwjk-xdQbQqQxrOyNgqjqM4wTDGJaveQbhJtTAoVt9e5c345JoAJIkhi9jueaTtZJv23OPEAW8UnuqRY9811KyNXZ-a2OXVU/s320/n17003582_37135447_4781.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">here: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(Juliette!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Vc2hjtoPcLSGhSumnStiHmv6ry5CqUQL00yPR9hGB9Y6vPR9V_jVnb7rNoaNiLVVerMAvQ-UdG8eWDrhlXV7xSX_ULOpsSWBj27DihcfD7jEeCOMo4PXmE2UAq_-75wHafw4jOO8Gik/s1600/n17003582_37135445_3567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Vc2hjtoPcLSGhSumnStiHmv6ry5CqUQL00yPR9hGB9Y6vPR9V_jVnb7rNoaNiLVVerMAvQ-UdG8eWDrhlXV7xSX_ULOpsSWBj27DihcfD7jEeCOMo4PXmE2UAq_-75wHafw4jOO8Gik/s320/n17003582_37135445_3567.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">and here: </div><div style="text-align: left;">(best sunsets in the world.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhA3NuSoWqi4tnfKaXZZhwbekw6oT_QGmclAhyphenhyphendo0okRnsT5Y3K3iwKSIlPO4xjUv69JtjNdT18-Y35QtlKxfsd3rL-V8KoSyKLmXgN0DidQ6cisgX4QXp3SI68p8j3xnspvLdy0t2uI/s1600/DSC02132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhA3NuSoWqi4tnfKaXZZhwbekw6oT_QGmclAhyphenhyphendo0okRnsT5Y3K3iwKSIlPO4xjUv69JtjNdT18-Y35QtlKxfsd3rL-V8KoSyKLmXgN0DidQ6cisgX4QXp3SI68p8j3xnspvLdy0t2uI/s320/DSC02132.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
I was here:<br />
(front porch. summer projects. stray cats)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyP-8ALiv9_hYKLi24DKnUVOUBWQfbOKB8Msqx-391LlHQyxVbsmLsfWUL00VJte5ns4D6iHUkGc_5SO3Wy4zdyi8_mz7MY-X9LuOYsjWc51D_6wZ6j2MjDDdEwjsrD9lIFf4oa3Msk-g/s1600/DSC02598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyP-8ALiv9_hYKLi24DKnUVOUBWQfbOKB8Msqx-391LlHQyxVbsmLsfWUL00VJte5ns4D6iHUkGc_5SO3Wy4zdyi8_mz7MY-X9LuOYsjWc51D_6wZ6j2MjDDdEwjsrD9lIFf4oa3Msk-g/s320/DSC02598.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
here:<br />
(seed cleaning.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VJ37Crf5fYpUoVMu0seRhVAZCgNCdokVHTxgf-JSZFybUMEharUbyx9n874He5bfnV1VtsXjcu23QgtBtpqNDmb8iyht52tAbE9yvZhSlcXXn3bsv_E4r96LQppv6HDVQiLWIYlSCqY/s1600/CIMG0384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VJ37Crf5fYpUoVMu0seRhVAZCgNCdokVHTxgf-JSZFybUMEharUbyx9n874He5bfnV1VtsXjcu23QgtBtpqNDmb8iyht52tAbE9yvZhSlcXXn3bsv_E4r96LQppv6HDVQiLWIYlSCqY/s320/CIMG0384.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
and here:<br />
(best sunsets in the world.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjytfkqum6OExou7druW7dSrEOZBt0l5cBHz5czmMYPzR4F3tprbgB8NUuO1TCMxn1TwHm1BW6KiP1dtNlXMp2TmppUkss_u3XrHwBc9KlFsdqZW3wgV9AY3evdoCIyiTH_ce7BaOh2ECA/s1600/DSC01284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjytfkqum6OExou7druW7dSrEOZBt0l5cBHz5czmMYPzR4F3tprbgB8NUuO1TCMxn1TwHm1BW6KiP1dtNlXMp2TmppUkss_u3XrHwBc9KlFsdqZW3wgV9AY3evdoCIyiTH_ce7BaOh2ECA/s320/DSC01284.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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I just left this:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2azYJksPuLs_z25NGyv7kxiqpHX4uQbeK-ZtQ9nQrcpfcD-_n_cb5F_Iti1aYgXLNTuapFiz92T52YjFet1H1keZhzURxYcxo3PnEhLSb0aLh3qGicyaN65IDge9HSMnK2XF0i2ELPI/s1600/DSC02545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2azYJksPuLs_z25NGyv7kxiqpHX4uQbeK-ZtQ9nQrcpfcD-_n_cb5F_Iti1aYgXLNTuapFiz92T52YjFet1H1keZhzURxYcxo3PnEhLSb0aLh3qGicyaN65IDge9HSMnK2XF0i2ELPI/s320/DSC02545.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
and this:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix0E3d3bbEJJd5IaOR2O5xG0OkIaYgCJNW8RqEEJSPyNyOB-s6QTTZwquAfGJvYM1CRH0x_KJMoFEO_rDApdLrwS-qLcPPG6PmWYw725FBKywkF-1YgM_JGVieL8KirJfxamiDyv9SN7M/s1600/DSC02684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix0E3d3bbEJJd5IaOR2O5xG0OkIaYgCJNW8RqEEJSPyNyOB-s6QTTZwquAfGJvYM1CRH0x_KJMoFEO_rDApdLrwS-qLcPPG6PmWYw725FBKywkF-1YgM_JGVieL8KirJfxamiDyv9SN7M/s320/DSC02684.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
And now I have to fix this!<br />
(It's not really this bad, this is an old picture)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2BFcD-NclhstlBfoNqBPSrouR9t2uF-UcKgepDVbxsv8bxxDUP5bRn0sVzGcPagvsxcwm-ksI9FaipNYYAaTGb02dUPmVwSAsWdjaQU1lJCWA-l45QqCOdlnLktGhr3HcsdCFJXUKvo/s1600/DSC01328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2BFcD-NclhstlBfoNqBPSrouR9t2uF-UcKgepDVbxsv8bxxDUP5bRn0sVzGcPagvsxcwm-ksI9FaipNYYAaTGb02dUPmVwSAsWdjaQU1lJCWA-l45QqCOdlnLktGhr3HcsdCFJXUKvo/s320/DSC01328.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, at least these gals are here with us: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(our lovely housemates, minus one)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DWbDQcGoyo6yQjEamamt0jawGnUkMFQx1hOIF2q63nZdE3sC8stTqmmgSOk5pD2z7gVqCtDbS-SZQcTg1SGQXzPwVDo03xO2WRL7q0Vln5RD4xyx_gcyPor_VrrhZ0yhgaa27VdYJhM/s1600/CIMG0209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DWbDQcGoyo6yQjEamamt0jawGnUkMFQx1hOIF2q63nZdE3sC8stTqmmgSOk5pD2z7gVqCtDbS-SZQcTg1SGQXzPwVDo03xO2WRL7q0Vln5RD4xyx_gcyPor_VrrhZ0yhgaa27VdYJhM/s320/CIMG0209.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">I admit being giddy about getting back to these: </div><div style="text-align: left;">(my spices and oils! I had a *limited supply this summer.) </div><div style="text-align: left;">(also missed the little intricacies of our unique apartment.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtTPX3e-tmdZucSVsf7MHz0j9Gi4LC0X05K44BtdoHnkHkB81xJ_XwwDM0Z20vZzY5Xbkdg0ZZ1pDro5WWDMUIuuA6OGTPmdLpEKfTCWgR4unOEzP5YtyFTfPaDZxUdLQBy1pN8bhsMs/s1600/DSC01837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtTPX3e-tmdZucSVsf7MHz0j9Gi4LC0X05K44BtdoHnkHkB81xJ_XwwDM0Z20vZzY5Xbkdg0ZZ1pDro5WWDMUIuuA6OGTPmdLpEKfTCWgR4unOEzP5YtyFTfPaDZxUdLQBy1pN8bhsMs/s320/DSC01837.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and this: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(cleaning and prettying up the yard.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim010gH_CAPpkRUMa8_DOMiSt8E2jOaLVaFktjhm1DwQXFQt0DYVBi0xWKQM6WagSb_V5e_0VepXl6JL7mgD1zKGuNpZ_VIZl7yOxC9NPn_mTNt2_lvDZn6Y8WmVdzrihY0yZlXGScDNA/s1600/DSC01561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim010gH_CAPpkRUMa8_DOMiSt8E2jOaLVaFktjhm1DwQXFQt0DYVBi0xWKQM6WagSb_V5e_0VepXl6JL7mgD1zKGuNpZ_VIZl7yOxC9NPn_mTNt2_lvDZn6Y8WmVdzrihY0yZlXGScDNA/s320/DSC01561.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">this: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(continuing work on the apartment.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Rv1ayRUHKwzIfeEmJ7KBL8gBagFtSHSXSwJ4k8ysxR12ySrDtUn8MBA4Oaps8m-qnY_rsieCufVBxzzyy4T-VLXrQumA6LbI9aWbIhoHmBeVv_nB4gElUD9uniympd1GO0sJsckBZhY/s1600/DSC01177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Rv1ayRUHKwzIfeEmJ7KBL8gBagFtSHSXSwJ4k8ysxR12ySrDtUn8MBA4Oaps8m-qnY_rsieCufVBxzzyy4T-VLXrQumA6LbI9aWbIhoHmBeVv_nB4gElUD9uniympd1GO0sJsckBZhY/s320/DSC01177.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">this: </div><div style="text-align: left;">(watching our home get better and better!)</div><div style="text-align: left;">(just like my photography skills will someday, I hope.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcv8SZjh9B520NOhWKZ2j0uYp73PEpEnTu50UFgeblgs4YPAp4Ik2vhTE3g5MjtrSFxCE1q-7ZWx_YfXBNPf0hjBC74-wOigpvU4xrFyBvvX-8bKY37xReGcNXS0rzvZEtxnGXzmcKWGE/s1600/DSC01179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcv8SZjh9B520NOhWKZ2j0uYp73PEpEnTu50UFgeblgs4YPAp4Ik2vhTE3g5MjtrSFxCE1q-7ZWx_YfXBNPf0hjBC74-wOigpvU4xrFyBvvX-8bKY37xReGcNXS0rzvZEtxnGXzmcKWGE/s320/DSC01179.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">this: </div><div style="text-align: left;">(my partner in crime in fixing up this lovely home - he's working, not playing, I promise!)</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdg8uBgjHVr__JjO6QVBWEDxM_ssSlWuQ52otyUxVFf26DE5k5VMZa12CwxuD_8ZXNFVyAUgm9C0TLk3KMxeth5_LFIGyLu3l6JR00FFofLNvz_RS0cq5ntWdtpmJ5slNj-qmlq_RjJk/s1600/DSC01167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdg8uBgjHVr__JjO6QVBWEDxM_ssSlWuQ52otyUxVFf26DE5k5VMZa12CwxuD_8ZXNFVyAUgm9C0TLk3KMxeth5_LFIGyLu3l6JR00FFofLNvz_RS0cq5ntWdtpmJ5slNj-qmlq_RjJk/s320/DSC01167.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-59295327666333738162010-09-04T14:24:00.002-05:002010-09-04T15:58:05.906-05:00All Expense Paid (by insurance and us) VacationOne month ago, I had one of the biggest scares of my married life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-aIWbnz2szuw4gylWvnwKWntCn6uYsvZa828GBHKt8exo_Cyc9-71wxTbPowc_1LSYRUfZhG6emrYcXm5JUDQmpthDUefI1scV3PrdmPlCJefrTE5TTGpYMMNPXfRzkz6pUJg-q1RL8/s1600/CIMG0391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-aIWbnz2szuw4gylWvnwKWntCn6uYsvZa828GBHKt8exo_Cyc9-71wxTbPowc_1LSYRUfZhG6emrYcXm5JUDQmpthDUefI1scV3PrdmPlCJefrTE5TTGpYMMNPXfRzkz6pUJg-q1RL8/s320/CIMG0391.jpg" /></a></div><br />
No, it does not involve me and a oversized John Deere pocket knife. Different story.<br />
<br />
My husband was out working on a long (3 day) job. While he was fixing an <a href="http://www.historylink101.com/lessons/farm-city/grain_auger.htm">auger</a>, the strap that was holding it together snapped, and the huge metal bar fell right on top of him, crushing his 6'3" frame into a 12" space.<br />
<br />
<i>Twelve inches.</i> <br />
<br />
Thank God, he had a man working with him that day who proceeded to pry it off of him saying, "Man, I didn't realize this thing was so heavy!"<br />
<br />
My phone rang:<br />
My husband said, "You need to call my dad, and come to the hospital right away. I try to stand up, and I can't, and then I get a little lightheaded."<br />
<br />
<i>That was it!</i><br />
<br />
The hospital he was at was 40 minutes from our house, and it was a looooong ride, not knowing anything about what had really happened to my husband or how he was doing.<br />
<br />
What I did know is that my husband <i>never</i> goes to the hospital for <i>anything</i>. The last time he went was six years ago.<br />
<br />
I'm serious. <i>Six years</i>.<br />
<br />
Six years ago, his mom forced him to after he sliced his Achilles tendon right open. Looking back, he <i>still</i> wishes he'd have just learned to sew it up himself to save the money - even though his mom paid so that he would go. He also still remembers the hypocritical doctor smoking a cigarette while condemning my husband for trying to walk on his foot. "He had no business giving me health care advice"...<br />
<br />
O brother. <br />
<br />
I digress.<br />
So for 25 terrible minutes we sit in a hospital room: his mom, dad, aunt and me, waiting for him to get out of X-Ray.<br />
<br />
<strike>Four hours</strike> twenty-five minutes later, they wheel him in. Yes they <i>wheel</i> in my tired, wheat-dust covered, crushed husband, leaving the panicked wife wondering if that means he will never walk again.<br />
<br />
Calm down, please.<br />
<br />
The doctor shows us the X-Ray and tells us that he has cracked his pelvis bone. A very awkward and uncomfortable injury, but also despite a few bumps and bruises, his <i>only </i>injury. Then the doc cracks some jokes about how if my husband plays his cards right, might be able to end up walking like John Wayne.<br />
<br />
Hilarious. <br />
<br />
But seriously, husband later told us that there had to have been angels, because for what had happened, he had been relatively unharmed. The auger had merely "grazed" his head and back. After moving us into an upstairs room (husband didn't take the stairs), the rest of the family left to go home and we were left alone in a hospital room for the night.<br />
<br />
<i>Romantic!</i><br />
<br />
Just me, my husband and various nurses and doctors who would check on him every 2-3 hours for the entire night.<br />
<br />
The hospital in this town is newly renovated. In fact, we came to find out the town is very proud of it - and with good reason. It is beautifully and artfully designed and decorated. The rooms are large and modern with a flat screen TV, walk-in shower, and even a sleek leather bench that pulls out into a bed - which would serve as my accommodations for the night. <br />
<br />
Not to shabby.<br />
<br />
The next day, my husband woke up "a little sore." He had refused any painkillers, and continued to, deciding that he didn't want to risk hurting himself more by moving too much in a reduced-pain state. So, he continued on, being "a little sore."<br />
<br />
Much to my chagrin, only my husband got his meals catered, so I'd run down to the cafeteria to get my breakfast. On the way, I spotted a bright little gift shop. A fancy glass cake platter filled with doughnuts caught my eye. If you know my husband, you understand that only one of these balls of sugar/dough/sugar would complete his so-called complete breakfast. So I snatched one up, <strike>duty-free</strike>, tax free!<br />
<br />
This day, we lounged in the posh room. We watched some great TV - something about Hollywood's most tragic transitions - who knows? We enjoyed visits from some friends and family, and of course all our new friends on the medical staff who came to hang out at least each hour. No, really. I think they thought his room was the fun room, so they'd bide time in there to avoid cranky Lewis down the hall.<br />
<br />
In fact, that evening, the doctor came to check in. We told him to pull up a chair, and he ended up chatting with us for a few hours. He was an interesting guy, with a very, very dry sense of humor. We learned all about his family and what brought him to this part of the <strike>country</strike> state. We even got him to divulge that his parents were international spies.<br />
<br />
Not really. But, sort of. <br />
<br />
We ended up staying another night in the hospital. The comedian doctor had told my husband he'd recommend he could leave when, if there was a fire, he was able to get up and run out. My husband assured the doctor that if there was a fire, he and his broken pelvis would indeed find a way to escape. But my husband got the point - he couldn't move his legs at all because of the "soreness" in his abdomen, and so he couldn't get in and out of bed without help.<br />
<br />
I ventured out a little bit the second day we were there, and found some gems in this small town. I had been to this city's indoor swimming pool before but I hadn't known that it was about 2 blocks from the hospital, so I walked there, bought a new suit - it was the local town's swim team suit, "designed and special ordered from Spain." That didn't impress me so much as the fact that it was only $20 for a great racing suit because it was leftover from the team's order. I bought the leopard print reversible suit and went for a little swim.<br />
<br />
Hey, what's a girl gonna do when her hubby's chillin' in the hospital room?<br />
Don't feel bad.<br />
He had cable TV and on-call nurses bring him milk and cookies whenever he wanted!<br />
<br />
On the way back, I found a little house that had been converted into a shop. They sold all sorts of cute and artsy home items, bakeware, coffees, teas, jellies, snacks, journals, cookbooks, and jewelry. So, naturally, I took a 15 minute retreat here, sampled the free chili-roasted almonds and chatted with the girl at the cash register. She was filling in for her sister for an hour. This girl actually worked for the local physical therapist who had come to hook my husband up to the electronic-stimulator machine the night before. Small <strike>world</strike> town. As I left the boutique, I giggled at the little country-esque sign on the door that read:<br />
<br />
"Warning: What Happens Today is on Facebook Tomorrow."<br />
<br />
Wisdom. <br />
<br />
Next I headed to Alco. By the way, I need to mention that before I moved to this part of the <strike>country</strike>, state, I thought this was a dog food outlet store. My husband had been bugging me for weeks now to buy new sandals, because the plastic on mine turned my feet black. I headed down to Alco and found a sleek gray pair in just the right size. I decided that if they wore off on me, at least it would be harder to detect a few shades lighter.<br />
<br />
Genius.<br />
<br />
And high class at only $1. <br />
<br />
I was on my way back to the hospital when I spotted a lovely looking little art gallery. I pulled over and headed in. The gallery featured around 15 local artists ranging from painting and drawing to mixed media and ceramics. One of my favorites were some beautiful wooded bowls. The man working told me that the owner was the ceramicist, and pointed out her work. I told him about my husband, who had gotten a degree in sculpture and also enjoyed ceramics. I explained that he was in the hospital right now.<br />
<br />
"Oh! The boy who had the auger fall on him! I heard about that!"<br />
<br />
??? (I'm sorry. I have to have a flashback to my freshman year of college when I attended a "small school" for one semester. It was only slightly bigger than my high school, and I started meeting people who'd say, "Oh! I've heard about you!" And, I promise I hadn't <i>done anything</i> worth hearing about. The school was just that small, that people "heard about" other people. I freaked out and started making plans to transfer to state-school.)<br />
<br />
I'm grown up now. I don't freak out when people have "heard about" things. Really. I don't. Have you heard otherwise? <br />
<br />
Ok, well apparently, one of the attending nurses was boarding with the man and his wife. Wait, let me guess - small town. I was surprised anyway. I know. But maybe I'll catch on soon. This town has three times as many people as the town we live in, but still, is only marginally bigger than my high school was. <br />
<br />
Back at the hospital, we enjoyed a quick lunch, which sadly, did not include orange jello that day. He decided he felt well enough to leaving and the doctor approved. We bid farewell to the helpful staff after they helped us down to the door. Husband scooted along with help of his grandfather's walker. Meanwhile, between giggles (sorry!) I had to reassure myself that, no, we have not been married for 60 years, and this is only temporary. <br />
<br />
As we drove out of town, husband asked me to turn right on the main street, and head back to the work site where his dad and another worker were finishing up the job.<br />
<br />
<i>OK, Honey. But, please don't get out of the car when we get there! You can do nothing (physical)!</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
It might have been more painful than his injury, but he sat in the car and did nothing (physical) as he asked questions, gave information and a few directions as per finishing the job. As we drove away from the site, back past the town where we'd just spend two nights, and on towards home, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I turned to my husband and gave him a pitiful smile.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry you can't work for a while," I said.<br />
<br />
"Me too," he replied. But then his countenance raised as he said, "I'd better call my cousin and let him know we have <i>lots</i> of video games to play."<br />
<br />
I rolled my eyes. "OK, Ornery. I can see you're feeling better."<br />
<br />
He grinned that familiar grin. "You ain't seen nothin' yet!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmSBLpBx9Onw38PjSeQvrkM2vWBCZDSfqDgYtgShjPaUC-U9cx2k3UiWAG6pb-To6pPeFTcj0TRw30RAbQ9msFL46y_WIceuGQSb8PtN2P6KLgN6QaImIXCPkvWYgFA-65T-E5qchP9k/s1600/CIMG0427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmSBLpBx9Onw38PjSeQvrkM2vWBCZDSfqDgYtgShjPaUC-U9cx2k3UiWAG6pb-To6pPeFTcj0TRw30RAbQ9msFL46y_WIceuGQSb8PtN2P6KLgN6QaImIXCPkvWYgFA-65T-E5qchP9k/s320/CIMG0427.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymRUMA3Fe0nPbKWyx8HJLPl4joy70PLMH67142nrxvuf1mdC7Xf56G1IKs80e43jxMNwW4ZoJAn-iZGC_zG-YqdvLaSn-q1oCMnpleTIqb136vQL854PG0tfVtanRpUUdnGZbCl_TKXo/s1600/CIMG0428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymRUMA3Fe0nPbKWyx8HJLPl4joy70PLMH67142nrxvuf1mdC7Xf56G1IKs80e43jxMNwW4ZoJAn-iZGC_zG-YqdvLaSn-q1oCMnpleTIqb136vQL854PG0tfVtanRpUUdnGZbCl_TKXo/s320/CIMG0428.jpg" /></a></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3782071623106181988.post-44995441395468860042010-07-03T22:23:00.029-05:002010-08-17T16:05:34.486-05:00She's Gone CountryTwo and a half years ago,<br />
I started falling in love with a man I can't quite define.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HsxIfscN_NZV-6CSwwpbd6n-tdoerqYFBa0on5SYqavEywpwcW8CrA-7oKT1mBqiqkgRjAvhYkxkHcqR4J01eFcs_QC-nBa_330dzd3fBReLEdWahCRQHWOPbHTJge3fITwgfVPvT1I/s1600/DSC01940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HsxIfscN_NZV-6CSwwpbd6n-tdoerqYFBa0on5SYqavEywpwcW8CrA-7oKT1mBqiqkgRjAvhYkxkHcqR4J01eFcs_QC-nBa_330dzd3fBReLEdWahCRQHWOPbHTJge3fITwgfVPvT1I/s400/DSC01940.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Is he a computer geek, and handyman, or an engineer?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE7M2s7Z_HKABltUutNGLSD5NTXQaF7424IByPa9iwog2XRq8HW8xmXhH_Q61sciHRyWoeVzUSQiTNWXUMOHBXsyVZIj3pAzTjzkO1zmxHRg4AATxQ60f03lKm3w4YwYKHYPAENzSEEKU/s1600/DSC02036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE7M2s7Z_HKABltUutNGLSD5NTXQaF7424IByPa9iwog2XRq8HW8xmXhH_Q61sciHRyWoeVzUSQiTNWXUMOHBXsyVZIj3pAzTjzkO1zmxHRg4AATxQ60f03lKm3w4YwYKHYPAENzSEEKU/s400/DSC02036.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
A businessman, a visionary, or an entrepreneur?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYBN3jH3TnWQeJ1jk1pxslfjq4dGqZvzfmD5BlQrkeZwRN6teCYO3teF-0hAke6IOP5c1eG-CrvjNmHWUbn8zDgmylKGADobmBeyK-0OgwvuyXomt6DGRcBoCKhQUMWzeaphdm0ehytM/s1600/DSC01702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYBN3jH3TnWQeJ1jk1pxslfjq4dGqZvzfmD5BlQrkeZwRN6teCYO3teF-0hAke6IOP5c1eG-CrvjNmHWUbn8zDgmylKGADobmBeyK-0OgwvuyXomt6DGRcBoCKhQUMWzeaphdm0ehytM/s400/DSC01702.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><i><b> </b></i><br />
<br />
A farm boy, an artist, or a college man?<i><b> </b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b>I don't know.</b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
But whatever he is, today I realized one new thing that <i>I</i> have become.<br />
Let me explain. <br />
<br />
If you drive by this town really quickly - and to do that you have to find it on the map first <br />
If you really squint your eyes <br />
If you gaze out your bug-smeared windshield at just the right moment,<br />
you will see her.<br />
<br />
Me. A young woman, who at that moment, will appear to be...<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b>A country wife. </b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
Here is proof.<br />
Here is evidence from <i>just today</i> that this momentous transition has really happened. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<i>-</i> Our house is <i>overflowing</i> with produce we did not buy. This includes four over-sized zucchini. <br />
<br />
- I know the difference between a <i>zucchini</i> and a <i>cucumber</i><br />
<br />
- I sort our laundry into two loads: <i>dirty</i> and <i>really</i> <i>dirty</i><br />
<br />
- There's <i>canning paraphernalia, 24 Bell Jars, and hundreds of peaches</i> on our kitchen table.<br />
<br />
- This afternoon, I did not now what <i>day</i> or <i>time</i> it was, and I <i>did not care</i><br />
<br />
- I rode in a grain truck that smelled like <i>mouse pee</i> just so I could spend 20 more minutes with my husband<br />
<br />
- I contemplated corn. I'm serious. Just stared at the field thinking about it. <br />
<br />
- At the grocery store, I debated getting pork because it's a <i>leaner</i> meat, and I bought <i>Boone's Farm.</i><br />
<br />
- We have <a href="http://www.tnpride.com/products_retail.asp?category=sandwiches">Tennessee Pride sausage and buttermilk biscuits</a> in our freezer. I have never eaten one. But still. <br />
<br />
- Our insurance agent is family<br />
<br />
- Did I mention I bought <i>Boone's Farm</i>? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWa2viANNszJndB992t9apI8XvG1N7MJiHFq9Kymywn5Rdxshl0WNc88L9qlJ250wy3JY9Uc0lObeQ6F9oXZoOH53syXclSeTewU8FkpwkiPzdUxRLdBBOLlHFvwJ-2eXPQNUVTO8i6Y/s1600/DSC01983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWa2viANNszJndB992t9apI8XvG1N7MJiHFq9Kymywn5Rdxshl0WNc88L9qlJ250wy3JY9Uc0lObeQ6F9oXZoOH53syXclSeTewU8FkpwkiPzdUxRLdBBOLlHFvwJ-2eXPQNUVTO8i6Y/s400/DSC01983.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OlKKotxlJvfmQPoez2COjaelbYh-SGqayAmxpUvcAzi4LxuT19bB2kjfqpOBODybLNGL6pFO1BMuI2Wyz_KsblsjPynWL4pYQx3Tk8TEPghJn2ukS-BL3IwD667KmQJ6cemsdBVkEVE/s1600/DSC01999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OlKKotxlJvfmQPoez2COjaelbYh-SGqayAmxpUvcAzi4LxuT19bB2kjfqpOBODybLNGL6pFO1BMuI2Wyz_KsblsjPynWL4pYQx3Tk8TEPghJn2ukS-BL3IwD667KmQJ6cemsdBVkEVE/s400/DSC01999.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG2uv9_jy0KsJH-eulUCOdp-4KPXSbsR8TyeOagWywn6Qic8TkPvDtqRHWxxlYfo_R9mSqFtNSxqNVXhe5vF4s-ltCZ5NRFqm9nN4WG4qEMnXdyh_C4_-h2TORTxBxK0SWo-jPiK8cnek/s1600/DSC01964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG2uv9_jy0KsJH-eulUCOdp-4KPXSbsR8TyeOagWywn6Qic8TkPvDtqRHWxxlYfo_R9mSqFtNSxqNVXhe5vF4s-ltCZ5NRFqm9nN4WG4qEMnXdyh_C4_-h2TORTxBxK0SWo-jPiK8cnek/s400/DSC01964.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3GvVy3iv41EqRs9wwFhEqXxsWfqioFUJZI3l6YalFo-G0ewfi_jxgjiymYA7lzA6GBGuDMz8HSgY3ASlnQlMfIpE9pCCSHgkSw9wvokWRJNf6yA9vWd8fiqphceiubcvEBx9U5D8lLNg/s1600/DSC01968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3GvVy3iv41EqRs9wwFhEqXxsWfqioFUJZI3l6YalFo-G0ewfi_jxgjiymYA7lzA6GBGuDMz8HSgY3ASlnQlMfIpE9pCCSHgkSw9wvokWRJNf6yA9vWd8fiqphceiubcvEBx9U5D8lLNg/s400/DSC01968.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzijflzus9MPdYqUvsIivIErhPs3L-1dvsiIBaCA5L9iOmg1dLaJQTZduT5t-B8lkRvXv9KJMCOtdDa7rP0oLyYSEqeQNNi1Rm8WVfs6Hi76nIJWOjb4AI-qFZw28vic8bFJ0zr9RveX8/s1600/DSC02535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzijflzus9MPdYqUvsIivIErhPs3L-1dvsiIBaCA5L9iOmg1dLaJQTZduT5t-B8lkRvXv9KJMCOtdDa7rP0oLyYSEqeQNNi1Rm8WVfs6Hi76nIJWOjb4AI-qFZw28vic8bFJ0zr9RveX8/s400/DSC02535.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08713177036125832576noreply@blogger.com1