tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15893765788117986612024-02-19T21:27:44.132-08:00Scraps of KeeKeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-60007555430600902972011-10-06T14:00:00.000-07:002011-10-06T14:00:24.967-07:00Begin with the End<span style="color: #0b5394;">Quirky~ </span><br />
<br />
I have a habit of reading the ending of a book first...I have to because I can't enjoy the rest of it unless I do. :-)<br />
I didn't used to be that way, it is all Nicholas Spark's fault. Good old Nicky, also known as Writer of Stupid Endings Extraordinaire...<br />
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It all started with the book Message in a Bottle. I am a reader...an avid reader, nay a devourer of books. I have to read every night before bed, I read while walking, I read in the car (not while driving, but if I could figure out a safe way to do that I would) I read curled up in the chair listening to the rain fall...get the picture? <br />
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I was the toddler who scribbled her own nonsense books, the 4year old who learned to read before she went to Kindergarten (which resulted in a spanking at school and a suspension...but that is another story loll) I have a horrible memory for names, but I remember my Elementary librarian, Mrs. Holmes. I was the child who raced through school work so she could read during class, the teen that hid a book in my text books (like the teacher wouldn't notice.) The adult who reads at least 4 books a week...get the picture?<br />
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Fast forward to the "Stupid Book" (A.K.A.) Message in a Bottle. I read it. It was wonderful. *Spoiler Alert! Then right at the ending, out of the blue one of them dies...Oh my heck! Can you say seriously rude? <br />
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So now, if I start a book that I am really liking, I read the ending to make sure that I am not shocked/disgusted/sad/mad at the ending. I actually enjoy the story more if I know what will happen. Then I read the book to fill in the middle. Now even if someone dies, I am not destroyed. (Okay, a little dramatic)<br />
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I just read a great book called Before Ever After. I was stunned by how much I liked it. I laughed out loud when I came across the following quote by Max, one of the main characters.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Fretting over how life ends, or anything else for that matter, is a complete waste of time," Max said. "I don't know about you, but when I got my hands on those Harry Potter books, I simply had to sneak a peek at the last page."</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Er, Harry Potter?" Jonathan arched a thick silver brow.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Max nodded, "I, for one believe that in order to really enjoy any story, you need to get the ending out of the way as soon as possible--which is why I've brought you all here. You need to learn the conclusion of one family's story so that you may better appreciate how it began and the cast of characters along the way."</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">Bam! Vindication! That is is exactly how I feel. Now if you will excuse me, I have a book to go read. Ending first of course. :-)</span>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-73191869579487281292011-10-02T22:02:00.000-07:002011-10-02T22:02:46.764-07:00Who is that Mustached Man?<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">It has taken me 11 years, but I finally realized that the person I thought was my son Toby is really secret agent...code name T.W.O. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">The joke was on us because for all of these years I thought it stood for Toby William Ostler...in reality it stands for Totally Wacky Operative. Through secret sources I have learned that, he is, a Master of Disguise. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Once I realized that the strange man in the mustache was the same person I thought I had been raising...I started thinking back on all of the years past...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">when he was a toddler and wore a giraffe (pronounced Hi-Waffe) costume for a week straight...not a quirk but in fact a disguise. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> The years he preferred to run around naked except for a superman cape...not a future exhibitionist...but a disguise...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">In January of 06 we thought he was obsessed with a show called Lazy Town...he wanted this costume more than anything...He wore it for an entire year...cried when he outgrew it. Little did I know that it was more than a costume...it was setting him up for his ultimate disguise. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Yes, folks, this is what my son wore to school the other day...a mustache. All day long. I can only wonder what his secret mission was on that day......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1Vs8OWgZGRYgbZ1s_o8iFn12ihRRHz2R8RRd9UYc1-W5qSa22IMKym4fL1QdeTJHbZN0xZISl8SkvpSBx3sH-zSigpIezlTtY60ofjbMZKPvlQcaEG7aIeNzb3hp25Qkm7XYQDWcXM4/s1600/100_1659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1Vs8OWgZGRYgbZ1s_o8iFn12ihRRHz2R8RRd9UYc1-W5qSa22IMKym4fL1QdeTJHbZN0xZISl8SkvpSBx3sH-zSigpIezlTtY60ofjbMZKPvlQcaEG7aIeNzb3hp25Qkm7XYQDWcXM4/s320/100_1659.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4pCaBkBsaarJMX732jmopZsN6XWu6518wWDQqwtxm8j1AdlzoT9zoRwWh036g4KFGZF5nsIVzvQmAYv8JUzR80qxzqKlXJVbo-2O58kAH1hZD-6vfktOb8__qi_eWqzlWP6I8TiEtrc/s1600/100_4091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4pCaBkBsaarJMX732jmopZsN6XWu6518wWDQqwtxm8j1AdlzoT9zoRwWh036g4KFGZF5nsIVzvQmAYv8JUzR80qxzqKlXJVbo-2O58kAH1hZD-6vfktOb8__qi_eWqzlWP6I8TiEtrc/s320/100_4091.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLSOdyNLdzIItTOAdIfwbUx75s_Wm8NXRcaovTTsDsPbDwkrELFLhFyalO160CZZW3uW6xqWULB2eeqxBs8UeLkUAiOi9KbDdhB2-j_Tlm5-b1F4G1trvscoQT5swqGEPB4o6PmzsisM/s1600/100_4092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLSOdyNLdzIItTOAdIfwbUx75s_Wm8NXRcaovTTsDsPbDwkrELFLhFyalO160CZZW3uW6xqWULB2eeqxBs8UeLkUAiOi9KbDdhB2-j_Tlm5-b1F4G1trvscoQT5swqGEPB4o6PmzsisM/s320/100_4092.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am so sad that it is not a real mustache</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6VT11w7CLUTqAwgZNaJSCrzZpqgoGll7Y9fcQ-9n0gonw43Z2E4xFALa4PTZnmVUte8nxmQUtBnlhF6D3qdd6eaeJgZW4LTermM1tHeamMGsj6NHMYGzY7mjF5FtHw3snTBH5SxmsZ8s/s1600/100_4093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6VT11w7CLUTqAwgZNaJSCrzZpqgoGll7Y9fcQ-9n0gonw43Z2E4xFALa4PTZnmVUte8nxmQUtBnlhF6D3qdd6eaeJgZW4LTermM1tHeamMGsj6NHMYGzY7mjF5FtHw3snTBH5SxmsZ8s/s320/100_4093.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothing going on here...just a man and his mustache enjoying a joke...move along....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_pmJMLUgKlV9NVkifECH0eVDyLThxh9fmlSiDEl9uwNDubfurtI5fVfv39dLpSWzT3BYNmcB5iS8Mbklo2IAP9BmYDyKcjC-0ZosutzE-U1FR7qFnwHQIVXYfqQy2wc28ycKEBrUR8c/s1600/100_4096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_pmJMLUgKlV9NVkifECH0eVDyLThxh9fmlSiDEl9uwNDubfurtI5fVfv39dLpSWzT3BYNmcB5iS8Mbklo2IAP9BmYDyKcjC-0ZosutzE-U1FR7qFnwHQIVXYfqQy2wc28ycKEBrUR8c/s320/100_4096.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You too can be as cool as Agent T.W.O. But only if you have the "Stache"!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-34337673059154005422011-01-23T15:35:00.000-08:002011-01-23T15:36:02.519-08:00Love is Just a Roll of the Dice... I would like to introduce you to my new love...<span style="font-size: large;">Yahtzee</span>. <br />
<br />
Actually, my love affair with this game started when I was a little girl. Nana taught me how to play. My Dad's mum was enamoured with it and spent hours playing, either with partners or solo. We learned early and she even bought us our own dice. I had pink ones. I loved them.<br />
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We then started the search for unusual dice, I still have a couple left. A bone one and a hollow metal die that rattles. A few more stick in my mind as coveted memories, I once found a large clear one that housed a tiny die inside. I loved it so much, but was never able to buy it. The other one had tiny carvings for all of the number markers. It was so much fun, we sewed little pouches for them that hung from our belts. Little felt houses for the treasures that loom so large in childhood. <br />
I remember laying clothed in <strike>lovely</strike> 70's bell bottoms on our woven rag rug, elbows perched on a corduroy pillow playing Yahtzee with my little sister...each of us yearning for that coveted five dice achievement...YAHTZEE! We would jump up in a wild banshee dance when we got one. My Nana and parents made sure we didn't play gambling games with our dice, but if we had, my bet would have been firmly placed on my sister every time. Golden Fingers Bobbers should have been her name. One game she rolled 7 Yahtzee's! <br />
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That is the Yahtzee of the past. We still play it as a family. I taught my children at a young age as a tool to help with math. It is still fun to hear the click of the dice and throw them down excited to see what you get. Shon and I love to play it with the two of us as well...<br />
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Lately though, I find myself turning to one I stole from one of my children. A small electronic hand held game that we found and rescued during a room <strike>excavation</strike> cleaning. It fits perfectly in my purse pocket, I play it at night when I am too tired to read, in the car (no not while driving silly) and during the many, many, many times I am waiting for children. <br />
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<img src="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=img&q=http://borgamo.com/images/i/41JTNA744XL._SL160_.jpg&sa=X&ei=0LE8TeDqDYa6sAO8rMH8Ag&ved=0CAQQ8wc4EQ&usg=AFQjCNG1arT4SNWveFgr5im7-zDpGWXiow" /><br />
<br />
I have a sneaking fear that it might be Mom O's. One she <strike>lent</strike> lost to my rug rats years ago. You have to understand, I would give this woman anything, after all she gave birth to my best friend. I would and have give her chocolate, time, craft items, laughter and tears, after all she is one of my best friends as well. <br />
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However, I <span style="font-size: large;">can not, </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">will not </span><span style="font-size: small;">give her my new boyfriend....Electronic Yahtzee. loll</span>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-91874339827754270092010-09-26T22:26:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:26:16.097-07:00Survivor 2010 ~ Alfia Island<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Survivor 2010 ~ Alfia Island kicked off in style this year. Located in the wilds of Grandma Joan's backyard in the desolate wasteland of Lehi, Utah, three intrepid souls braved Hurricane Millie, Tornado Toby and dangerous chalk wounds. These hardy souls existed on local delicacies such as twigs, grass, a few flowers known from the genus species "Don't~tell~grandma~we~picked~her~petunias" and rocks wrapped in leaves and baked in the sun. They built shelters using the wide foliage of the "golf~us~umbrella" plant and even adopted a little UT native boy they found running around. Below are a few pictures that our camera woman was able to snap while braving great danger of drowning from the merciless powers of Hurricane Millie and Tornado Toby. Enjoy......</div><br />
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGEJNAthQJbsm7vRYIbdEY8uRpp-fpb7euLw09vX6zwANFZf9h_reaW6Rna7lyIjrrfE2-1HPf3vILGUekuPZ1MMefPnTG_Zq-7ln-2vbwb45t5KAGlat2e6QsGGh983jxwjwAVdUzRAU/s1600/101_3198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGEJNAthQJbsm7vRYIbdEY8uRpp-fpb7euLw09vX6zwANFZf9h_reaW6Rna7lyIjrrfE2-1HPf3vILGUekuPZ1MMefPnTG_Zq-7ln-2vbwb45t5KAGlat2e6QsGGh983jxwjwAVdUzRAU/s320/101_3198.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">The girls make quick work of building a shelter.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqfnU7VeHFgwnougOyFn57iVTMLIKaZMD6whnEzXNL4QxVTVOjBEdLds61PCF22YTu6ZRZz_yH1y1Od_se92InsGjr2uVxySCu_dxvY5s_EIztTX51ZqoP5g8xvjpVYsU9V8vs8YKfYQ/s1600/101_3202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqfnU7VeHFgwnougOyFn57iVTMLIKaZMD6whnEzXNL4QxVTVOjBEdLds61PCF22YTu6ZRZz_yH1y1Od_se92InsGjr2uVxySCu_dxvY5s_EIztTX51ZqoP5g8xvjpVYsU9V8vs8YKfYQ/s320/101_3202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
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</tbody></table><div align="center">Yum baked rocks anyone?</div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKK840pnefBHOJPvM-wlpjEErOm9ow-1QsJdYyrI2CXVs2JH-p3Gee8mxa9c64eXbBqW2F6jlsPl_6Yh6VOU7Gw_x9Z5mHDRXj_-0IgANcBYvZ9uU2d2OiQ2dYXud8YX30onsvuuim48/s1600/101_3201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKK840pnefBHOJPvM-wlpjEErOm9ow-1QsJdYyrI2CXVs2JH-p3Gee8mxa9c64eXbBqW2F6jlsPl_6Yh6VOU7Gw_x9Z5mHDRXj_-0IgANcBYvZ9uU2d2OiQ2dYXud8YX30onsvuuim48/s320/101_3201.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Apparently the natives of Lehi Utah are stinkin' adorable.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; 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/AVvXsEhclbghX3Od0NOQLGQiG3heLH-L7EmMeV0sLLqhEadfP0fyxdgQtPHitlM-PO-NwhIltdZ_PDSouhXNYQHSIbb4ct9KQWfsnYXNY0fzkExO45O5imgwG2GpgU5tyqZtKG4IxiRQ__shthQ/s1600/101_3203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclbghX3Od0NOQLGQiG3heLH-L7EmMeV0sLLqhEadfP0fyxdgQtPHitlM-PO-NwhIltdZ_PDSouhXNYQHSIbb4ct9KQWfsnYXNY0fzkExO45O5imgwG2GpgU5tyqZtKG4IxiRQ__shthQ/s320/101_3203.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Lissie grinds down the "dangerous" chalk to render it powerless (and messy)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrC627CxK2sMre51syrF-6b814JXy9LJqa9hE2cHw71I_gpdztBxghr-kaJe94v99mCW5sPTb1x3QdTBvvvbpLhLdvqQ30JHnUBl5ClxxJkV7V8s5niuXy6h1xRvz87p45-dKpKo_ik1w/s1600/101_3195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrC627CxK2sMre51syrF-6b814JXy9LJqa9hE2cHw71I_gpdztBxghr-kaJe94v99mCW5sPTb1x3QdTBvvvbpLhLdvqQ30JHnUBl5ClxxJkV7V8s5niuXy6h1xRvz87p45-dKpKo_ik1w/s320/101_3195.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Danger from above! Millie has defected to become "Hurricane Millie" and brought along her buddy "Tornado Toby".</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7zXoVZeGeIIlQSM_HDhfT02gSC82LavSsiVZ2LvrcY7ueGJ2Qes45XSdXVfjC0LtXX6oKCQ4G28aXLSdnLDC8aoYD9A0JSKGul-8Vp6ristA0mGj_f1TO2uUisvRcVzY7cgKZSDm0W_k/s1600/101_3196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7zXoVZeGeIIlQSM_HDhfT02gSC82LavSsiVZ2LvrcY7ueGJ2Qes45XSdXVfjC0LtXX6oKCQ4G28aXLSdnLDC8aoYD9A0JSKGul-8Vp6ristA0mGj_f1TO2uUisvRcVzY7cgKZSDm0W_k/s320/101_3196.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This what happened to the poor souls who didn't listen to the weather warnings. Let's take a moment of silence please......</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><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;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVKzPuAh9SDIfPD-L2Gnm-2TKIfE7tX98GbAX-gIy9ZH2mGh-PitI8mY8BJRP5g28bbwqIB7g9RxamOIpMoQSTL8Xf6_gxmMOqhAQ-452ox7YHMex3rFov35oTfZwGeTJ-lpyjN1I3iYs/s1600/101_3199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVKzPuAh9SDIfPD-L2Gnm-2TKIfE7tX98GbAX-gIy9ZH2mGh-PitI8mY8BJRP5g28bbwqIB7g9RxamOIpMoQSTL8Xf6_gxmMOqhAQ-452ox7YHMex3rFov35oTfZwGeTJ-lpyjN1I3iYs/s320/101_3199.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Let's hear it for the winners of Survivor 2010 ~ Alfia's Island!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I seriously LOVE the imagination of kids! We can learn so much from them. Chalk, leaves and Grandma's golf umbrellas led to hours of fun cousin playtime. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-10085883082878279672010-03-31T21:49:00.000-07:002010-03-31T21:49:40.017-07:00Someday...Someday I will go on my dream retreat which is here <a href="http://www.bravegirlsclub.com/">http://www.bravegirlsclub.com/</a> The scenery is gorgeous, the food looks divine, the projects are right up my alley and I love how they have decorated everything. It is my little "happy place" online. I pore over their website to see the projects and dream about going. The catch? Happy places don't come cheap. This retreat whistles in to the tune of about $1200. Yes you read that right. :-) So for now, it is filed under a someday. Go check it out anyway though, we all need happy places. Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-53912439459349733152010-03-26T12:56:00.000-07:002010-03-26T21:14:37.333-07:00Healthy Living...All it's cracked up to be?<blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPc5q_TL3-nY21TpUSwPtqa5CSYUYJjo2IdnIoEXARzoLynnzgExGrdc8gHK69EEgKyDLVX2tDh5rF54W3zbgaSdwFyQkvuWpgnmAqAwoQjWze7Q6Qd31ppTCy9oNCyOM1qmKaK4lx5Y/s1600/vintage-ads-diet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><em>"Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint." </em></span></a></div></blockquote><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPc5q_TL3-nY21TpUSwPtqa5CSYUYJjo2IdnIoEXARzoLynnzgExGrdc8gHK69EEgKyDLVX2tDh5rF54W3zbgaSdwFyQkvuWpgnmAqAwoQjWze7Q6Qd31ppTCy9oNCyOM1qmKaK4lx5Y/s1600/vintage-ads-diet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">—Mark Twain</span></em></a> </div><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
I love to look at ads from the past, a couple of nights ago I couldn't sleep and found these helpful (not) little "gems". Makes it hard to believe that any of our ancestors even stuck around long enough to procreate the next generation! Hmm...Beer for babies, smokin' mamas, arsenic and tape worms, apparently I have been going about this weigh loss and parenting thing all wrong!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RM6h4bDdfp5Ae2urtMyPjIiBMyapqwe6_oOanyxKkpYq6f-_Wxm9EQrfH4ec-luPHIWXUDx7VB3VX8jtpEKEzMZ26W-TAL1xPuFW34bhTBAjw4jQ70yk5zEHSxPf608HsAueAx7Lb9I/s1600/beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RM6h4bDdfp5Ae2urtMyPjIiBMyapqwe6_oOanyxKkpYq6f-_Wxm9EQrfH4ec-luPHIWXUDx7VB3VX8jtpEKEzMZ26W-TAL1xPuFW34bhTBAjw4jQ70yk5zEHSxPf608HsAueAx7Lb9I/s320/beer.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maybe that would have helped Joey sleep through the night.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjNg3hib_a4W7yCZJfhEQE_wI6fECwDfsyvrzzYya8SFPh2sFu2G3uzreCJPVoxYih6sUqSfoLh-sXNQri68_8c2dI9V7vt8S-ldXsOM6PEHC2pNSXKoC-avAxkxD47szBOVdi4TMXr8/s1600/DermaRoyale1895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjNg3hib_a4W7yCZJfhEQE_wI6fECwDfsyvrzzYya8SFPh2sFu2G3uzreCJPVoxYih6sUqSfoLh-sXNQri68_8c2dI9V7vt8S-ldXsOM6PEHC2pNSXKoC-avAxkxD47szBOVdi4TMXr8/s320/DermaRoyale1895.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One dollar for nothing! Surely they jest! One dollar can buy you white skin, deathly pallor, arsenic poisening...all for 100 pennies, 20 nickels, 10 thin silver dimes or 4 quarters! A bargain!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRperH4KVYNhIlMvIDRNCSRlqpwL4wxQmz85w_emKtrFTwTGfQarKoG4ss-RC-kMKNlZNaMztmo4MKGvfGm1-IjkGpGQ0CnJMV4NYZ-EqSL3a0042qgztKbY4w40JBNRung-pBlI6uhkc/s1600/dr+smoke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRperH4KVYNhIlMvIDRNCSRlqpwL4wxQmz85w_emKtrFTwTGfQarKoG4ss-RC-kMKNlZNaMztmo4MKGvfGm1-IjkGpGQ0CnJMV4NYZ-EqSL3a0042qgztKbY4w40JBNRung-pBlI6uhkc/s320/dr+smoke.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What is his name - so I can never go to him! Eeeww!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEfRPBeDvLAlZ7pJ9tEoOX6WqlT9usVLScW0Bg7lqhlhELXNv_6Q_oL73YNpltntvQrrQeQjf_wVUVIsYmN1-YEzdqVWDfpMGe0VjSdYWjsTNxNcN0LHK3VtB2ojR_5cxwruTrApCIic/s1600/lard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEfRPBeDvLAlZ7pJ9tEoOX6WqlT9usVLScW0Bg7lqhlhELXNv_6Q_oL73YNpltntvQrrQeQjf_wVUVIsYmN1-YEzdqVWDfpMGe0VjSdYWjsTNxNcN0LHK3VtB2ojR_5cxwruTrApCIic/s320/lard.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mmmmm...lard. Does anyone else feel queasy? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Is it my imagination or is mom looking at them like they are crazy?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Or is she just thinking about her "stylin" swimming suit and wonding if she is showing just a little too much skin? What will all of the ladies say at the country club? Silly lady, they won't care because they are too busy smoking and eating lard!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfHTmBCkeeRJngUOMYzsDP_eW38L8tgpvXY5cBrB2L8cCrPHNfpXGynquqRGFxqslhoT-IPRjiJYuf18fuBk0n5w1nS1niyiuAxVfoSEPHbSexcVtRdFfWZoGIGaFJjycXekDJEEE2Po/s1600/tooth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfHTmBCkeeRJngUOMYzsDP_eW38L8tgpvXY5cBrB2L8cCrPHNfpXGynquqRGFxqslhoT-IPRjiJYuf18fuBk0n5w1nS1niyiuAxVfoSEPHbSexcVtRdFfWZoGIGaFJjycXekDJEEE2Po/s320/tooth.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No more toothache, wait, are those children creepy or is it just me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> How can they build a house out of sticks if they are high on cocaine? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XG5WcZBX_gcYyfogLM3WofCWoELYwl9h36fPDWSyHda99WskfMj7jWbTsGcw1MjvgNlawLD6J2PRvj-tJDV-o9SpXGpiSgFJMWGTuwW82MFHid4PMYtwnkcQCkQc35-G5digEM9IZxk/s1600/smokes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XG5WcZBX_gcYyfogLM3WofCWoELYwl9h36fPDWSyHda99WskfMj7jWbTsGcw1MjvgNlawLD6J2PRvj-tJDV-o9SpXGpiSgFJMWGTuwW82MFHid4PMYtwnkcQCkQc35-G5digEM9IZxk/s320/smokes.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Uh, there are so many things to say about this,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I can't even sort and process them because my "smart a**" filter is on overload. :-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPc5q_TL3-nY21TpUSwPtqa5CSYUYJjo2IdnIoEXARzoLynnzgExGrdc8gHK69EEgKyDLVX2tDh5rF54W3zbgaSdwFyQkvuWpgnmAqAwoQjWze7Q6Qd31ppTCy9oNCyOM1qmKaK4lx5Y/s1600/vintage-ads-diet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPc5q_TL3-nY21TpUSwPtqa5CSYUYJjo2IdnIoEXARzoLynnzgExGrdc8gHK69EEgKyDLVX2tDh5rF54W3zbgaSdwFyQkvuWpgnmAqAwoQjWze7Q6Qd31ppTCy9oNCyOM1qmKaK4lx5Y/s320/vintage-ads-diet.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What! You mean I have been killing myself at the gym and all I had to do is this! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Uhg, this is gross on so many levels, and I can not believe that people were really stupid enough to do this. Maybe all of the cocaine and arsenic helped. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All I can say is that I think that Mr. Twain was right on this one. Be careful of advertising - it's a killer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I can't wait to see what I find on my next sleepless night.</div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-38609180687303777312010-03-19T21:58:00.000-07:002010-03-19T21:58:59.150-07:00Mirror, Mirror<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>My Friend, if I could give you one thing, I would give you the ability to see yourself as others see you . . . then you would realize what a truly special person you are. ~Barbara A. Billings</em></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqpEAYMFIjHvY9jnXAbO5nPuXo_jpzYnryvCFYGNo3wjFPfrDXyGSxxnMbdzR41acJzVVrb1uQ9lwpGroDF4ZOquZGWRN0lU6kTCRJlLU7FLEFKaq8x5uuIlP8Rh0QNKr_os8tCJc45I/s1600-h/red.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqpEAYMFIjHvY9jnXAbO5nPuXo_jpzYnryvCFYGNo3wjFPfrDXyGSxxnMbdzR41acJzVVrb1uQ9lwpGroDF4ZOquZGWRN0lU6kTCRJlLU7FLEFKaq8x5uuIlP8Rh0QNKr_os8tCJc45I/s320/red.jpg" vt="true" /></a><br />
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I wonder at what point in our lives, do we stop being that little girl with the super sized, super-hero type of confidence? Why as women are so down on ourselves? It is amazing to me to watch a little girl walking about the world, without a care, knowing that she looks "fantabulous" in her red and green cowboy boots, red long johns with a tutu over-top and a tiara. She looks great, she feels great and she KNOWS it! <br />
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Somewhere along the way, we lose that sense of self. We don't always wear an outfit because it brings us joy; we wear it because it is in fashion. We look in the mirror and see a nose that is too big, instead of a beautifully shaped mouth or tilted blue eyes. <br />
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Now, I realize that to an extent is it important how you look, we need to be well groomed and take care of ourselves. We should take pride in who we are, after all, Heavenly Father gave us our bodies ...ah ha ladies, that is what we need to remember. Who we are is NOT reflected in the flat magazine pictures of personality deprived models. It is in remembering that we have a divine source. <br />
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I look at women all around me and am so amazed at their creativity, their flair and their beauty. I honestly don't think that I have ever looked a woman and said, "WOW! WHEW! She is beyond hope! GET OUT THE PAPER BAG! Cover this chick up she is making MY EYES BLEED! Puleez! <br />
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But what happens when we compliment someone? They usually demur, not out of false modesty, but because they really can't see what I do when I look at them. Sad. <br />
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I have to admit, as much as I love that quote above, I fall into the same category...Stupid media. Just sayin' makes you think doesn't it?Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-5238227767836959782010-03-15T08:25:00.000-07:002010-03-15T08:26:55.206-07:00I must, I must, I must decrease my butt!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">It is exercise alone that supports the spirits, <br />
and keeps the mind in vigor. ~Marcus Tullius Cicero</span></div><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Fizzbert to Cicero! What was that guy thinking? Did he need a hobby? I have to say that I can think of the many things that lift my spirits ~ and working out on the weight machines is not one of them! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When I was younger, I was very thin, loved to run, could eat like a horse, still had a 21 inch waist. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Grew a little older, had kids, health issues and gradually my weight started to increase. Still, I thought to myself, “well, I don’t like my stomach muscles because after 4 c-sections and two other surgeries, they were basically mush, however I can live with it, if I have to.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My butt, I can honestly say I didn’t worry about, not because I thought it was a toned thing of beauty, I just decided it was everyone else’s problem because they could see it and I couldn’t. :-) Now, as I get older I find things happening, like the fact my butt is indeed my problem, somewhere along the line, it started to creep its way around my hips one calorie at a time until <em>I do notice</em> it and I am not happy about it! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Since, for some strange reason, whining and thinking about exercising didn’t seem to be melting anything off of my body, I’ve started to work out. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">One of my problems was that I don’t know how to exercise. Never did, I didn’t have a weight problem, did the sports I liked, but like many thin, young people, I didn’t have a good idea of whole body health. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Enter Prudie at the Y. Our YMCA does a free 8 week program several times a year. You go and work with a personal trainer two times a week and learn how to use the machines, how to exercise for your fitness level and how to gradually increase what you are able to do. During this time you have a Y card and can go as many times as you want outside of class. If you complete their program of 16 classes, you can join the Y without the initial start up fee. Very cool. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This humorous kicker? For me the only class I can fit in is the one at 5:30 in the morning. Yep me, confirmed card-carrying member of the night owls club, is getting my hiney out of bed, driving to the Y and working out. At first, I could only make it the two days, but I have been gradually increasing amount that I have been going, and working out at home when Shon has the car out of town. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You know what? I hate to admit it that Cicero might be right, I am kind of starting to like this exercise thing….Who would have thought?</span></blockquote>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-10123879542415036492010-03-11T07:18:00.000-08:002010-03-11T09:44:56.669-08:00The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAtIjC9SUs9nFRBKtSzUIE9i8Rjd6h3ssrNTDC2IDX_WrRxbZIuxW6hiIMr7hlHpMr_x65aBmE-aNh6-6frFa2brzmemp871XMgK539QC0B9tacgryAFvWdqUxLGjLl3fphu82eV_dv4/s1600-h/cover.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447397404575015042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAtIjC9SUs9nFRBKtSzUIE9i8Rjd6h3ssrNTDC2IDX_WrRxbZIuxW6hiIMr7hlHpMr_x65aBmE-aNh6-6frFa2brzmemp871XMgK539QC0B9tacgryAFvWdqUxLGjLl3fphu82eV_dv4/s320/cover.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"><em>"That is what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive - all with no end in sight, and for no other reason other than sheer enjoyment~<span style="font-size:78%;">Julia in a letter to <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00;color:#33ccff;" >Dawsey</span></span></em></span><br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes life can change in the blink of an eye by a seemingly random occurrence. We always assume that there needs to be a cataclysmic event for this to happen, something dramatic, something dark. Usually though, it is small acts that set off a chain of events that can be life changing. Many times, changing our life for the better and brighter.<br /><br />For the main character in this book it was as simple as receiving a letter. The time was January 1946. The main character Juliet Ashton is a British author who along with everyone else in Briton after WWII is simply trying to move forward. She opens her mail one day to find a letter from a stranger with with a simple request that sets her life moving in a direction that she never dreamed of.<br /><br /><br /><br />This book is written in an epistolary form, usually a style that I find <span style="color:#000000;">stodgy</span>. However, the characters in this book are vibrant and original, an eclectic mix that somehow works. The writing flowed so well, that I forgot I was reading letters. Juliet learns about the letter writer and his friends, as well as how the war affected the people of the Channel Islands. I didn't have a clue that there was British Territory that was occupied by the Germans in WWII. Somehow, I always thought all the occupation was on the continent.<br /><br /><br /><br />I found many laugh out loud moments, few sad ones, and several clever quotes that stayed in my mind long after the book was done. If you are looking for a book about bold adventure and intrigue with heart stopping moments, this is not the book for you. If you like a gentler story about the strength of human nature, having a sense of humor and human triumph I would recommend this in a heartbeat.<br /><br /><br /><br />Below, is a link to the real Channel Islands. It was a wonderful virtual trip, although, sadly I didn't get a suntan. :-)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.visitguernsey.com/guernsey.aspx">http://www.visitguernsey.com/guernsey.aspx</a>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-2498917625735707602010-03-09T23:00:00.000-08:002010-03-10T14:05:29.883-08:00Hi there!*While taking a break from blogging recently, I took the opportunity to update my blog. I have decided that one blog will cover everything. :-) After all, family, scrapping, creating, reading, photos...they are all part of my life!<br /><br /><br />*Thanks to everyone who kept emailing wondering if I was going to blog again. It would be so fun to meet some of you!<br /><br /><br />*The buttons below the header will keep everything organized (and we know how happy that makes me!) That way if all you want to see is tutorials, you can hit that button and not read the rest of the "scraps" that make up my life.<br /><br /><br />*I had to share these pictures of our winter visitors. They are so cute and not the least bit shy. We are never sure who is going to be in our backyard! It takes every ounce of persuasion to make sure that the kids don't feed them!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxxQs6eBVnUg7gB0UKrlMcFxbWjFv1aUHDS59wOC2njyuqEHQJa2DjcjzIkVKtcB8ecoe630FZDlLccQibiLaUTU1LiLPMm4HZvGWfQ5Ozh5gukSHRSBoZLKSvqUadbeyPGdt-sQQyFs/s1600-h/100_8972.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447128199144842690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxxQs6eBVnUg7gB0UKrlMcFxbWjFv1aUHDS59wOC2njyuqEHQJa2DjcjzIkVKtcB8ecoe630FZDlLccQibiLaUTU1LiLPMm4HZvGWfQ5Ozh5gukSHRSBoZLKSvqUadbeyPGdt-sQQyFs/s320/100_8972.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY71njbwT0N293ArcXMqtHBCK_IAqQ8O2OXNlb2rW3LNw_aiOY99z0qLiyHboJd6Y8PiqVvAgAiKEmhMEYoF1-KULweN77tCzXReyY-1Wixr7Sf8hqAuuwkAuZn9J-JOfP7Sso58ShsUc/s1600-h/100_8969.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447128176333890274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY71njbwT0N293ArcXMqtHBCK_IAqQ8O2OXNlb2rW3LNw_aiOY99z0qLiyHboJd6Y8PiqVvAgAiKEmhMEYoF1-KULweN77tCzXReyY-1Wixr7Sf8hqAuuwkAuZn9J-JOfP7Sso58ShsUc/s320/100_8969.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZp4GkmJ2axO1h5D_LXufvrPkaRJsD7rKU86FHeFbBD-I11uxKp8iXzexDeKyINg3biaj05_Xg3D1DLOfplw-jBrKGGPI_iqZhCOIBpI8lw6Sw1ZZqLM1BSgZSuBTbCZ8NyNPFNYNQiSU/s1600-h/100_8885.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447128162172929410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZp4GkmJ2axO1h5D_LXufvrPkaRJsD7rKU86FHeFbBD-I11uxKp8iXzexDeKyINg3biaj05_Xg3D1DLOfplw-jBrKGGPI_iqZhCOIBpI8lw6Sw1ZZqLM1BSgZSuBTbCZ8NyNPFNYNQiSU/s320/100_8885.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFNzeUjq5rEOVnygIcCnlLB8595VDbQRw1z_RXf9CPYlq2MZtWkUi2Nf0VpZuHT4AmuM20kSCrxETv8dN-cx-a8LbvyM3E9pQoFaMCALCTb77wTrGeEYBPSFXMGgUd1I_xBpKtV8_EeP0/s1600-h/100_8496.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447128153667669986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFNzeUjq5rEOVnygIcCnlLB8595VDbQRw1z_RXf9CPYlq2MZtWkUi2Nf0VpZuHT4AmuM20kSCrxETv8dN-cx-a8LbvyM3E9pQoFaMCALCTb77wTrGeEYBPSFXMGgUd1I_xBpKtV8_EeP0/s320/100_8496.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDMil2fKabY7KrF7zkWwM0H2_gDrhG5GxCBrSzZdo1tz_cW-oJVkoXS1xTyU2uYMQsm3FUnq3hXQLUdUUpvZhjncYl0WlN349L1ZNGA1el_Hq7rPLKz-A78eCy31xiCYIxg1-8eX8dKao/s1600-h/100_8491.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447128144487022162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDMil2fKabY7KrF7zkWwM0H2_gDrhG5GxCBrSzZdo1tz_cW-oJVkoXS1xTyU2uYMQsm3FUnq3hXQLUdUUpvZhjncYl0WlN349L1ZNGA1el_Hq7rPLKz-A78eCy31xiCYIxg1-8eX8dKao/s320/100_8491.JPG" /></a> </div></div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-831009452552998722009-11-25T16:10:00.000-08:002010-03-07T00:37:58.344-08:00Where does the time go?Good to be back blogging again! It has been so crazy lately. I am a little loopy while writing this post, just stayed up all night to finish some wooden advent calendars that a friend ordered for Christmas gifts. I love these, I designed them for a class a while back and everytime someone sees mine, I end up making more. Good thing for me, because they are fun to make and how many do I need anyway! There is something about crafting all night long that is just fun! I got in some comfy pj's, brought down a treat or two and some DVD's. Lit a candle and just sat for a little while. It was so quiet. I surveyed my little domain. LOVE IT! That was the calm before the crafting storm! The night flew by, I watched all of my old favorites, then threw in some Monk. Watched it for a couple of episodes, decided that the whole OCD thing was a little to close to home. :-) I am proud to say that unlike Monk, I can carry my own antibacterial wipes, no Sharona for me. All in all, it was a great night, one that was badly needed.Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-41385456415235177372009-09-23T08:53:00.000-07:002010-03-07T00:39:03.999-08:00DistanceI know that we are supposed to be here for a reason and we really love Montana. However sometimes with choices come growing pains and one of those for us is the distance we are from our families. People still love each other, but you start to grow apart. Pretty soon, you become a little more like strangers, instead of the intimate friends you once were. I have seen it happen in our family and it makes me sad. I guess that it is the natural way that life goes, when you aren't hanging out together with those people anymore. It is life, and you deal with it, but it does make you feel isolated. <br />I am so glad that it hasn't happened with my sister. We can pick up right where we left off. She and I have been such close friends all of our lives, even including the times that I convinced her she was adopted because we found her in the alley behind our apartment building. I know it is a trite phrase, but we have been though a lot together, and just come out of it closer than ever. She has her birthday this week, and I can't believe that she is all grown up. I am glad that at least she has stayed close to us. Happy Birthday Sis!Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-88461781265676066272009-09-17T22:58:00.001-07:002010-03-07T00:39:21.855-08:00Good Bye<span style="font-size:78%;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5G15DZdNo-euofat5WC8oJ9Uk2U2VnFzlFXnl1InPC5KRkp9qbFl9BGw6CTSs-Iz1_UQ0NehOH7gduRmj7aKHg-dNX-BJumuqHqHEbHCMp5ilCbKm2JC0Jc5b7PPuW4hOeNnXyy0vyE/s1600-h/books-199x300.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382693538842114658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5G15DZdNo-euofat5WC8oJ9Uk2U2VnFzlFXnl1InPC5KRkp9qbFl9BGw6CTSs-Iz1_UQ0NehOH7gduRmj7aKHg-dNX-BJumuqHqHEbHCMp5ilCbKm2JC0Jc5b7PPuW4hOeNnXyy0vyE/s400/books-199x300.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">Photo courtesy of smartkids</span><br /><br /><div>Good bye old friends...</div><br />This almost killed me. I had no inkling of how difficult it would be to go through our children's books. We are firm believers in "pay it forward" and decided to go through our books and donate the ones that the kids had outgrown to our school. We have several teachers barely out of college and thought it might help them build their classroom libraries. They were excited, the kids were excited and I was...until we started. It was hard. Every book we picked up, seemed to have memories attached to it. Of course we kept the favorites, and most of the hardback books. We definitely were not left with a dearth of books, given that we have so many that we have broken more than one bookshelf. :-) But still, slow death by papercuts....<br /><br /><div>We are readers. My kids love to curl up together and read. We like to pick quirky books to read together as a family,and we all have our own favorites. We try to keep one night a week in the winter put aside when all we do is read our books, the kids and I in the same room, everyone sharing a bowl of popcorn and excerpts from our current reads.</div><br /><br /><div>I know all of that will continue. But still...It killed a little part of me.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I know that we kept the kid's favorite books.</div><br /><br /><div>I know it was a good thing to do, and hopefully teaches my kids the principle of giving to others.</div><br /><br /><div>I know that other little children will enjoy those books and hopefully catch the love of reading. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>But still...somehow, super-imposed over that humble little box of books were visions of my chubby babies sitting in my lap learning to read those books. Time moves so quickly. Good bye old friends....</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>. </div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-46405834854833059172009-09-09T22:40:00.000-07:002010-03-06T23:49:12.473-08:00Really!?! Can you say OCD?Sometimes I just have to laugh at myself. We are getting our house ready for sell and thus painting out some of the stronger colors. I am very picky about how I paint and edge. The previous owner had painted the master bathroom indigo blue. I like color, but it was too much for me. We had painted it out a light oceany (yes that is a word...at least in my world!) grey but you could still see where some of the indigo paint had barely splashed up onto the ceiling. Let's just say, it bugged me. Shon came home to find me painting the blue out with this teeny-tiny make-up brush. The look he gave me was so funny! <br /><br />He thinks I am getting too OCD about painting the house....OCD...I just think that those are nice letters in the alphabet. Nice letters that are out of order, maybe I should put it on my list of things to organize...then I will highlight it so that I know that it has higher priority...Should I color code them so that they are easier to find, or maybe just file them under alphabet...hmm, maybe, I should do that right after this post instead of sleep...What am I doing still posting? I have to fix the letters! Shon, me OCD? I have know idea what you mean. :-)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOMO0FFbFBRJqRNKuZZG78d1vMrlCNw8xiKajmSf47Cg-vg745pnLLDlEBOiGvMsxzd8kTNCQ5ClVLcrC4UxZQ2KymTVwZhmlbfd6zXW2S1ue-IAupKBrtQaQ8NS9quddBwilEPacbU-8/s1600-h/July-August+2009+169.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379710726858748434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOMO0FFbFBRJqRNKuZZG78d1vMrlCNw8xiKajmSf47Cg-vg745pnLLDlEBOiGvMsxzd8kTNCQ5ClVLcrC4UxZQ2KymTVwZhmlbfd6zXW2S1ue-IAupKBrtQaQ8NS9quddBwilEPacbU-8/s400/July-August+2009+169.jpg" /></a>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-87662011923339629222009-09-07T20:49:00.000-07:002010-03-07T01:29:30.944-08:00Simple PleasuresSometimes life hands us simple pleasures unexpectedly. Like little gifts we open them and with childlike unabashed happiness...and just plain enjoy them. With Shon-O's new job, he travels the Eastern Montana district weekly. Every couple of weeks, he needs to spend the night up there. We went into the job knowing that. What we didn't know is that his boss encourages him to take me with him sometimes. GIFT! How fun is that? Even better, since it it a work trip, lodging and food is covered. GIFT! We are close enough that we don't have to worry about the kiddos, GIFT! We have great friends and relatives in town who think it is fun to have them for the night, GIFT! Recently, I went with my cute guy to Glendive and Sydney. Guess what? There were several more gifts!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglH-EfIlGb4YkvKPTBNT5XVqOfqIfhdfUtzjj-J5i28Om3F7bfgto03PHNwN3o74LqcZPjbTRJ6ygZhZORf_YihX3Ux_cb8hKPDjHqxUwePGFjY_7Rc8e0CBUxBKeTryWWI5AtiSgUbAE/s1600-h/July-August+2009+205.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378942171103735826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglH-EfIlGb4YkvKPTBNT5XVqOfqIfhdfUtzjj-J5i28Om3F7bfgto03PHNwN3o74LqcZPjbTRJ6ygZhZORf_YihX3Ux_cb8hKPDjHqxUwePGFjY_7Rc8e0CBUxBKeTryWWI5AtiSgUbAE/s400/July-August+2009+205.jpg" border="0" /></a> I have a handsome man, with arms long enough to take this photo, GIFT!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2WbXnuEgjiNihoIi1sJ5HNpAgioFgmsSlL9hfwWrVM3gz4P1Ow93XlGqTa2gsrX8mi7lV_EwggbqiDTwFGewpiHGDzwB3XGA1Qsd7R8n9PMm_LlFGI2eJ9ORPb_9XQUHC0IFss3sISA/s1600-h/July-August+2009+201.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378942161247667730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2WbXnuEgjiNihoIi1sJ5HNpAgioFgmsSlL9hfwWrVM3gz4P1Ow93XlGqTa2gsrX8mi7lV_EwggbqiDTwFGewpiHGDzwB3XGA1Qsd7R8n9PMm_LlFGI2eJ9ORPb_9XQUHC0IFss3sISA/s400/July-August+2009+201.jpg" border="0" /></a> Beautiful scenery, with that huge Montana blue sky. The building on the right was a really cool old church with weathered boards. I wonder what life stories happened inside? Hmm...firmly placed under, GIFT!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiGLcxcgh0abI2jYSLICxDebWRId_Hy9096gHvVVFdEDFNReStpHYVeG-l0zhDZKhStnZfFZ4xZIW8vlX0i6ZRkpaKlgdPxWA5ABEnoeb6Q-fS5P55ZWWzGFXWGBofeHa3Tf3yMjNy4s/s1600-h/July-August+2009+199.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378942150252890978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiGLcxcgh0abI2jYSLICxDebWRId_Hy9096gHvVVFdEDFNReStpHYVeG-l0zhDZKhStnZfFZ4xZIW8vlX0i6ZRkpaKlgdPxWA5ABEnoeb6Q-fS5P55ZWWzGFXWGBofeHa3Tf3yMjNy4s/s400/July-August+2009+199.jpg" border="0" /></a> Quirky things you see at gas stations. Glendive had tonnes of things about dinosaurs and a huge dinosaur museum. Apparently someone had a sick (but funny) sense of humor and altered this statue. Laughter, GIFT!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7xrmwijfxBdH-thkBp_qV1bYwRDvzhV3_JTvdL7_L_BDGhgwNbo4S7p_4qbHiN3LGlNo9KKvwDY96LPrtJucAhj8l8n0mrqUJH8KLvJ3x17dbU3J30dZ_WEP-QVbzMiF_ybqkwRpGeA/s1600-h/July-August+2009+195.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378942144500669186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7xrmwijfxBdH-thkBp_qV1bYwRDvzhV3_JTvdL7_L_BDGhgwNbo4S7p_4qbHiN3LGlNo9KKvwDY96LPrtJucAhj8l8n0mrqUJH8KLvJ3x17dbU3J30dZ_WEP-QVbzMiF_ybqkwRpGeA/s400/July-August+2009+195.jpg" border="0" /></a> We went to the first annual Tomato festival. It was held in the community center. There was a band, and tables set up with taste tests for all things tomato. (Surprise!) Salsa, sauces, juice and desserts. Who knew? There were also lots of homemade treats and crafts for sale. Sweet and simple fun, GIFT!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmhN2ZzMbDndDrqt6tmS-7xFH1WkFsQbx3xd-y_k6PbawYOxVDV1zIyUICXCGiRWFsmPKmq855vGLyDL88KWEu0FlDVVKRZlkHtMXzMBgN1_Bn-6TAafnxgaMHHmzQ0NtXKeq7vNppfPk/s1600-h/July-August+2009+194.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378942135675506018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmhN2ZzMbDndDrqt6tmS-7xFH1WkFsQbx3xd-y_k6PbawYOxVDV1zIyUICXCGiRWFsmPKmq855vGLyDL88KWEu0FlDVVKRZlkHtMXzMBgN1_Bn-6TAafnxgaMHHmzQ0NtXKeq7vNppfPk/s400/July-August+2009+194.jpg" border="0" /></a> Why the key? First off, who sees this kind of key in a motel anymore? It was a clean, simple motel with the most comfortable bed. While Shon-O saw his people, I stayed in the room and....did NOTHING! I worked on some cards, watched mindless TV, and took a long shower. While I wouldn't want it to be my life, sometimes it is just nice to know that your family is happy, your hubby is doing what he loves, and I was just able to sit and relax, GIFT! I will probably go with him every other month, unless he needs me to teach at one of his trainings. Look around you, and it is amazing how many gifts pop out at you.<br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-42614563338812356202009-08-17T20:55:00.000-07:002010-03-07T01:29:50.858-08:00PaparazziWhat to do in the car during those long hot rides? On a recent trip to Cowley Wyoming we played a rousing round of a little game mama likes to call "Paparazzi!" I think that they won this round. I have to be a little bit quicker with my picture takin' finger. Next time my pretties...I will win! :-)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXJWuTOyDNui1m81o6A3-NmUgSaJsYVTG604g5pgE4LXrDZ1gtkI2CYC_P_n-ndtZy6T_9EO010u6rVrVa_sfWGN4EAjzoshNlfvqcIUB5PWuD-p8i1M7tZbgwvdhKH77QysTS4E-Ko4/s1600-h/July-August+2009+090.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371149238355746274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXJWuTOyDNui1m81o6A3-NmUgSaJsYVTG604g5pgE4LXrDZ1gtkI2CYC_P_n-ndtZy6T_9EO010u6rVrVa_sfWGN4EAjzoshNlfvqcIUB5PWuD-p8i1M7tZbgwvdhKH77QysTS4E-Ko4/s400/July-August+2009+090.jpg" /></a> Toby impersonating the headless horseman<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhv7D4sMHkpEJU7WyRSgY3h8ePQ9mMYPcy_bmksvF0zCjhi8mudoNcse5V_RpX_fdn5nlyhMfFzZx-U0r6AshlDp9qQAl1xPFSGtazDC-pp6t98U2N4-KoSQK8TkGHicgVHManEr9Aeh0/s1600-h/July-August+2009+080.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371148969079698514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhv7D4sMHkpEJU7WyRSgY3h8ePQ9mMYPcy_bmksvF0zCjhi8mudoNcse5V_RpX_fdn5nlyhMfFzZx-U0r6AshlDp9qQAl1xPFSGtazDC-pp6t98U2N4-KoSQK8TkGHicgVHManEr9Aeh0/s400/July-August+2009+080.jpg" /></a> Alex as a rock head<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESThDSpZxpfOWbpiYjkrYkrF6V4mxCmK3BRpDQoKiH32PAvw_PWquyo2SdtqhJJL-a2sZa4BE5KBtWhSsr-MS_pKIOxvufQ9K-WM8sh5CIafzNH2HzEPdgvSjr6M9Dk4FPmorDGSrYI8/s1600-h/July-August+2009+082.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371148959219433250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESThDSpZxpfOWbpiYjkrYkrF6V4mxCmK3BRpDQoKiH32PAvw_PWquyo2SdtqhJJL-a2sZa4BE5KBtWhSsr-MS_pKIOxvufQ9K-WM8sh5CIafzNH2HzEPdgvSjr6M9Dk4FPmorDGSrYI8/s400/July-August+2009+082.jpg" /></a> Shon~O couldn't move since his hands needed to be on the wheel. I love a sitting duck target. <br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBXEGSmNKgcysh9VUq5IM_Wpgax3Y4AreIA8Z5KzmCxt639GnxeifwY46l6qovkKVQE9o4XUfFMi6n80bLX5HIyeOpvyi4b5hJ4pz-7DR7M7Mb1Y1oty2rHZpdxjmuf-F2mYaUGb9-1g/s1600-h/July-August+2009+086.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371148947301920690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBXEGSmNKgcysh9VUq5IM_Wpgax3Y4AreIA8Z5KzmCxt639GnxeifwY46l6qovkKVQE9o4XUfFMi6n80bLX5HIyeOpvyi4b5hJ4pz-7DR7M7Mb1Y1oty2rHZpdxjmuf-F2mYaUGb9-1g/s400/July-August+2009+086.jpg" /></a>Joey is too quick for me....<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65rGSWGG61sHqYgtFQDi2_Xvb503vZTupU-w-MndPEVN5aW6nHQUPj19Ujef_JgrEmwV1WI9ONhMWlIUW8NUjhAo8ghpwuyLO5Uihdut2MirjIbMlXiHB-84n-b_thkuTfHhyCrD23Tw/s1600-h/July-August+2009+089.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371148936573321826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65rGSWGG61sHqYgtFQDi2_Xvb503vZTupU-w-MndPEVN5aW6nHQUPj19Ujef_JgrEmwV1WI9ONhMWlIUW8NUjhAo8ghpwuyLO5Uihdut2MirjIbMlXiHB-84n-b_thkuTfHhyCrD23Tw/s400/July-August+2009+089.jpg" /></a><br />Lissie impersonates a human pretzel in order to avoid her picture. </div><div> </div><div>Let's see, practice now, 1...2...3..CLICK! Gotcha!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-25647012438757840832009-07-24T01:15:00.000-07:002010-03-09T23:09:28.966-08:00A Scout is...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCw2zb1WT4MoS56_O6Aux9mZgJ1jQMU9YntDxEOFfztpoNhPfDGwmkSnphd2t8GEesgcyvNcFt4A-1OMq0BezmMazz849y6BWD9QX0TryrDip7xPW1NMc5wx5RJBU2FL5RVm6hUTC-6s/s1600-h/rockw14.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361941109406815378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCw2zb1WT4MoS56_O6Aux9mZgJ1jQMU9YntDxEOFfztpoNhPfDGwmkSnphd2t8GEesgcyvNcFt4A-1OMq0BezmMazz849y6BWD9QX0TryrDip7xPW1NMc5wx5RJBU2FL5RVm6hUTC-6s/s400/rockw14.jpg" border="0" /></a> A while back in my "Back to Blogland post, I had mentioned the following item with the promise of more information to follow.<br /><br />4) Many hours of prayer, and discussions, leading to my sweet hubbie following a dream, which means a location change for us ~ More to follow.<br /><br />It has been a crazy couple of months, after 15 years in the heavy haul trucking industry as a sales broker, thanks to the recession my husband had the opportunity to change his job.<br /><br />Security is never easy to give up. Never. However, sometimes we take a leap of faith and sometimes we are pushed into it. Regardless of the way we move into it, change can be brilliant.<br /><br />I hated to be obscure in the blogland post, but we had applied for a job and were waiting to see whether or not Shon was chosen for the post. It was hard to do, because at the time we thought it might entail us moving. We decided to go for it though and were blessed in a way that we didn't expect. The original job was in Missoula, and midway through the process, they asked if we would be willing to stay in Billings. After deep consideration that took all of 2 seconds, our answer was YES! So the process went on, paperwork, background checks, verbal interviews, written tests and finally....(although to give them credit it all moved pretty fast) we found out.....<br /><br />Drum roll please......Ta da! Shon is the newest District Executive for the Billings Montana Office. What does that mean? I have no idea! Loll! I don't know his exact duties at the moment, but I do know that my husband embodies all that is good about scouting and I am so proud of him. It isn't often we get to live our dream and get paid to do so! Congratulations Honey!Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-10416571498332732772009-07-16T15:14:00.000-07:002010-03-06T23:52:11.173-08:00Art rocks!<div>Way, way, way...(add a few dozen here) back in time, I went to school to become an elementary teacher. My specialty was to be reading readiness and learning <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">challenges</span>. Life changes our plans sometimes though and although I did my student teaching I did not end up in the classroom as an educator. Now, looking back, I am not sure what kind of teacher I would have made. I have been thinking a lot about this because as Toby gets older, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Shon</span> and I have talked about me possibly going back to work. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sooooo</span>, 20 years after graduation, the question comes up, what do I want to be when I grow up? :-) </div><div>Many thoughts spring to mind, most of them involving either artwork or museum research. One other job appeals, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">unfortunately</span> I think that they are a dying breed. Art teacher. I love art. I love kids, I love to see kids get excited about art.</div><div> No matter the size of our houses that we have lived in over the years, we have always had a dedicated art space for our kids. I think that is why I can always leave my art supplies out without fear of them being touched.</div><div> </div><div>In this house there is an odd closet type space at the bottom of the </div><div>basement stairs. We finally decided to make that the kids art space. There are all kinds of fun things in there. I don't care how messy it gets while in the middle of a project, after all, everyone should get a little messy when they are in a creative <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">frenzy</span>! Afterwards, the kids know that if they clean up, I will constantly restock it. </div><div></div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyQolL8vrdVuGcEJY6MO0SfovjHjXNgt_lUq3gY2eAPIn6QziLJerDTbU-m7RU0LMOqa79oRy3meg4VY7xAUsMm-_uZyjSHMp1meMKBca7r-r9YYCCrMh3VrKLhoThudhKW9IkrntN6c/s1600-h/July-August+2009+011.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359192297582552850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyQolL8vrdVuGcEJY6MO0SfovjHjXNgt_lUq3gY2eAPIn6QziLJerDTbU-m7RU0LMOqa79oRy3meg4VY7xAUsMm-_uZyjSHMp1meMKBca7r-r9YYCCrMh3VrKLhoThudhKW9IkrntN6c/s400/July-August+2009+011.jpg" /></a> <div><div></div><div>Here is the cute paper project that Lissie made the other day. Her cousin Natalie was over and they recreated themselves in paper. I know it sounds sappy, but it made my heart happy to see them so content and busy for HOURS making clothes, their dolls and houses. I loved how creative they were with layering paper, and using different textures for the hair, door, rooms etc. It brought back memories of when I used to play with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">paper dolls</span>. Check it out.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIp9As47FeVn7VaO3r7OGLUTdZOPHEYG99IPnuZfsRBm5RJH3isBIr46FD0GFhT-zf61_TEPcwIAK_O8_mCA0NSIrec8yUQ7jgVrHyg8DLjXCaRzfEX8TIkbZcbxhRyOAcePQI-lgyoM/s1600-h/July-August+2009+010.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359196085763923058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIp9As47FeVn7VaO3r7OGLUTdZOPHEYG99IPnuZfsRBm5RJH3isBIr46FD0GFhT-zf61_TEPcwIAK_O8_mCA0NSIrec8yUQ7jgVrHyg8DLjXCaRzfEX8TIkbZcbxhRyOAcePQI-lgyoM/s400/July-August+2009+010.jpg" /></a><br />Paper Lissie is going for the smoky eyes and bee stung lips this summer...<br /></div></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmU2mh22BIW_8rpz2HhpVZIyG1XuY6cYOFVhgUZfhzIZFexLVOJwjreLz80GbcxYoxFK-LRFpd1e_iING2mkmt33zyI9NbRRiZHQuy3HEdfTe4vV_UWALgFts1mS7GpV30eSEJBEN8KY/s1600-h/July-August+2009+004.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191867098147122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmU2mh22BIW_8rpz2HhpVZIyG1XuY6cYOFVhgUZfhzIZFexLVOJwjreLz80GbcxYoxFK-LRFpd1e_iING2mkmt33zyI9NbRRiZHQuy3HEdfTe4vV_UWALgFts1mS7GpV30eSEJBEN8KY/s400/July-August+2009+004.jpg" /></a> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Livin</span>' the life in a paper world.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tGhjYNlxpzYzPNjJ4uyQpEprPssYwySYIMIx8OteJRGaWuB8mUEGTAYhAgr6xStFkUsQnJ8fh1tOV77F76pWDM2pjPNOsZd0YoTn4ahDSHnuqjfu2H_QcSP9H7URvkA1DKTmesXWE_g/s1600-h/July-August+2009+005.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191875424999314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tGhjYNlxpzYzPNjJ4uyQpEprPssYwySYIMIx8OteJRGaWuB8mUEGTAYhAgr6xStFkUsQnJ8fh1tOV77F76pWDM2pjPNOsZd0YoTn4ahDSHnuqjfu2H_QcSP9H7URvkA1DKTmesXWE_g/s400/July-August+2009+005.jpg" /></a> Everything a paper preteen could want! I think that some of these items are not so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">subtle</span> hints, like the paper laptop, cell phone and i-pod. :-)<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXss4Bq-zkGSWk8voMLe2Zh5dv0pqvmyGRDwGtwHZoB-PYRcjtmPrL1Gqp5zK6vTp5C6Ae-dmM5LjPRxeW253xyBsfKtZSbogFqvyJLuzfJfMExNTlcPcF_QOZc47-YlcxfaqwHy9C_Jw/s1600-h/July-August+2009+009.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359192289233874882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXss4Bq-zkGSWk8voMLe2Zh5dv0pqvmyGRDwGtwHZoB-PYRcjtmPrL1Gqp5zK6vTp5C6Ae-dmM5LjPRxeW253xyBsfKtZSbogFqvyJLuzfJfMExNTlcPcF_QOZc47-YlcxfaqwHy9C_Jw/s400/July-August+2009+009.jpg" /></a> Paper Lissie, I think she can only walk in one direction though....she has a huge wardrobe now, and although you can't see them, stylish undies and even a belly button.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodmlwhVlFNHDcccA-9hrNq2yYJRjtnmGYnBbeW0H_rbAWeisxw6gJ1VEeQLtV-xSfrhduqswf_q2FnbLtVvEYcb0eLfaJKF52JZc8Xt4Y_raufdxOQh8wPF31NhzL2U9xsjWjYeuzyZw/s1600-h/July-August+2009+008.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191892062158546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodmlwhVlFNHDcccA-9hrNq2yYJRjtnmGYnBbeW0H_rbAWeisxw6gJ1VEeQLtV-xSfrhduqswf_q2FnbLtVvEYcb0eLfaJKF52JZc8Xt4Y_raufdxOQh8wPF31NhzL2U9xsjWjYeuzyZw/s400/July-August+2009+008.jpg" /></a> A fabulous door.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_fjHIrZlwF65XYJqzHRM27D_6hpQWjVdYXkx0HnhFPTSiHynP6yU_3yqWgEwZaLAtNMN4iAE7qRT7jQST3D2AfViv17rxqPcdiXBIU0RxGYBh9QLBmkLc8FBaDqkES0t5st28RWvLD2Y/s1600-h/July-August+2009+007.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191887960781522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_fjHIrZlwF65XYJqzHRM27D_6hpQWjVdYXkx0HnhFPTSiHynP6yU_3yqWgEwZaLAtNMN4iAE7qRT7jQST3D2AfViv17rxqPcdiXBIU0RxGYBh9QLBmkLc8FBaDqkES0t5st28RWvLD2Y/s400/July-August+2009+007.jpg" /></a> Time to sleep....<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">zzzzzzzzz</span>....<br />Time to wake up!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjecIacqy4jg38ivKfH5FYThOJsetdnNTLd-wkPvPBoaNd-nUV4tnz2wFsmMPqjZxsJxlnUbCdsDgVmKm6-GbtoCCyr6heX6EYHZs8xaiUAiD7KLciN8gfjKpPVIydq_Pv3nn0nFeMoo/s1600-h/July-August+2009+006.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191879315259938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjecIacqy4jg38ivKfH5FYThOJsetdnNTLd-wkPvPBoaNd-nUV4tnz2wFsmMPqjZxsJxlnUbCdsDgVmKm6-GbtoCCyr6heX6EYHZs8xaiUAiD7KLciN8gfjKpPVIydq_Pv3nn0nFeMoo/s400/July-August+2009+006.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><div>Glue, paper, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">pipe cleaner</span>, sequins, beads, glitter...doesn't it make you want to come over and play!?! ART ROCKS!</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-29831592118318732009-07-10T18:38:00.000-07:002010-03-07T01:30:34.327-08:00Worth Dying For...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6bzoWieppvpQ4DLBRjiDiC-HpkWjkhkJ-Fb1MMTrcqwicgdqyqCZb01UNGhuVv5uG6moUrOPqdN6Ni36QuUiY90xulrpantJ89jJwb0Km2lHjJpQtLSQjMULp9L0CHjw4CCbH6mpk-w/s1600-h/June-July+020.jpg"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkcM99doPHugsTkIGJioXXJinAnAqTJOrWzn4G3DYl7liuhoR8-VM1PIeBAFOGp8DCoahf1cPYbp8DbJe3Y_6X6Olh9TuVXi-gUlJuUTS-ryp2h3IgOltxwb7KdSkdb2r3K9Cx_hJNJI/s1600-h/June-July+019.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357824330232214066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkcM99doPHugsTkIGJioXXJinAnAqTJOrWzn4G3DYl7liuhoR8-VM1PIeBAFOGp8DCoahf1cPYbp8DbJe3Y_6X6Olh9TuVXi-gUlJuUTS-ryp2h3IgOltxwb7KdSkdb2r3K9Cx_hJNJI/s400/June-July+019.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>A wise lady named Eleanor Roosevelt once said,<br /><br /><em>"Lest I keep my complacent way I must remember somewhere out there a person died for me today. As long as there must be war, I ask and I must answer was I worth dying for?" </em><br /><br />A young Sgt. named Terry Lynch was buried yesterday. Only 22, he freely gave his life on June 29 in Wardak Province, Afghanistan when an "improvised explosive device" exploded near his vehicle. Do I know him personally? No. Although I was impressed by the number of medals he had earned in his young (and short life) None of those things moved me to blog. No, when I read about his death, the thought that struck me, was, here was this young hero, who by all accounts was very loved by both his friends and the men that followed him. A hero described by terms such as<br />"young man who was as serious about serving his country as he was playful and fun-loving in spirit."<br /><br />"All-American boy"<br /><br />"Hardworking. Playful. Trustworthy. Sincere. Outgoing. Dedicated."<br /><br />"loved cars, grease, dirt, firecrackers, paint ball and mischief"<br /><br />"I wanted to give back to my country," he said in explaining his decision join the Army."<br /><br />"determination" and "dedication to his country"<br /><br />Wow, that is pretty humbling. He had already served two tours of duty. He was only 7 years older than my Alex when he died.<br /><br />After his funeral, the community was invited to be part of a flag processional that would line the streets all the way from the church the funeral was held at to the cemetery. My three younger kids and I went down with some of our big flags to participate. Alex unfortunately wasn't able to go do to health.<br /><br />I was so proud of my kids, standing tall, my boys wearing their scout uniforms straight backs saluting the cars in the funeral procession. I saw the faces of his honor guard. I saw them salute my boys back. And I saw those men with tears rolling down their faces while smiling to see my children. I took this picture before it started, somehow, it didn't seem right to cheapen the moment and take them during.<br /><br />Why am I blogging this? I am not really sure except that the poignancy of seeing my children standing there holding the flags so proudly touched me very deeply. I truly hope that I can be someone worth Sgt Terry Lynch's sacrifice. </div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-7749435434918222382009-07-03T14:26:00.001-07:002010-03-09T23:09:56.624-08:00Dreams of Daring Do....Remember when you were a child and your imagination was so vivid that daily life paled in comparison? With distant vision, you left behind the myriad mundane chores that filled your day and created a world, indeed many worlds, peopled with adventure, boldness, color and EXCITEMENT!<br />*Your bed became a covered wagon with the help of a sheet..(really, who needs them <em>under</em> blankets when they have <em>so much</em> potential!)<br />*Crackers became the manna that explorers live on...<br />*A closet was not a place to store clothing and other sundry items, but instead it was a time capsule, a hide out, a rocket into outer space...<br />*Outdated clothing, carelessly discarded by the older (unimaginative) set, became anything you needed, evening dress clothes, tawdry threads weakly glimmering, shine once again as ballgowns, pirate plunder and medieval finery...<br />*Cardboard, not a earthly and humble carrier of objects, but instead, the material of castles and playhouses, walls and sleds...<br /><br />How do you build a dream? A few recovered boards, a few brand new boards, a plan and the imagination of a little boy....<br /><br />Toby turned nine in June (gasp, my heart just skipped a beat...my baby NINE!) We mulled over many things that we could give him. He is a sweet but quirky child. (Go quirks! They add strength to your character!) Although he gets along with everyone I know and plays well in many different forums, other than basketball, he just doesn't care about many of the things that other little boys do. He already has a hoop...so we were stumped until we thought about how much he loves pirates...and since every little boy needs a place to build imaginary empires, sail through the seas and have adventures beyond measure, that made us think...put them together and you have our birthday hide out designed just for Toby!<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IPnUWNyvSgcSJIXvdEQmz49Z1OSDRn0CwYSKA-jBlp4N9IQZ1YQNVw2lddalgKsLCdXqZAeQ8BTikc_mtsEaf6XuygDcJmNlHtQzh-mWcVk1_BG4KMYFBe1nDomK2yvY4pDW1KsXHzo/s1600-h/June-July+091.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354348712655296706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IPnUWNyvSgcSJIXvdEQmz49Z1OSDRn0CwYSKA-jBlp4N9IQZ1YQNVw2lddalgKsLCdXqZAeQ8BTikc_mtsEaf6XuygDcJmNlHtQzh-mWcVk1_BG4KMYFBe1nDomK2yvY4pDW1KsXHzo/s400/June-July+091.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-17584890971147508362009-06-25T12:08:00.000-07:002010-03-09T23:12:11.955-08:00Back to Blogland....Whew, I am not sure about everyone else, but in our house, summer does not gently creep into our lives. It smacks us upside the head and says triumphantly "Baby, I'm Back!!!!"<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, we love summer. May and June are just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">psycho</span> months. Here is our life in a nutshell,<br />1)We went to Utah for Mother's day~more to follow<br />2)Cub Scout Day Camp preparations including, paperwork, set up, painting a 20 foot long pirate ship, day camp itself, take down, more paperwork ~ more to follow<br />3) Some fun and cool crafts squeezed in here and there including, cards, jewelery, canvases, and a fun mannequin that my s-i-l <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Colett</span> gave me. (No C, it didn't end up with Lissie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">lol</span>) ~more to follow<br />4) Many hours of prayer, and discussions, leading to my sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hubbie</span> following a dream, which means a location change for us ~ More to follow.<br />5)Challenges and fun with my church calling.<br />6)Building a pirate fort for my 9yr <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">old's</span> birthday ~ more to follow.<br />7)Looking up the meaning of sleep, since we aren't getting any! :-)<br /><br />One of the projects I have been working on was sparked by one of my best friends Wendi. She showed me a site where words are spelled out by architectural elements. I am trying to spell out Ostler. Here are the letters I have so far. Not loving the T, any ideas?...Everything else my friends will have to follow in further posts. Happy Summer!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351356485116312370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 379px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuiGZJbHHgY4o-EWAg9K9GtTiQ8EcG7ZxMTKw1Ae4NqUnc2v8gl4uxsVrCvceLYWoj9fbcGVrw0NX0FWzy-nbMzkgC1Kt8cfu4VpHck6VBdhgj3-7wSdEBPkh43ISf_eBPbl-ICLK2rY/s400/MarchApril+2009+333.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351355264414284066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCengXx3pTCtW0FQB7iNfhkykm1cAwfH3XCPHZHuNq6jghVY1UuSEedaWOvcECBfb6R8mxIhZi0GzYuDmEfZr7EgjxTflzoVRQkz4WqW_XXG9nTqh7-WLvhrNIxKJuxBed2bJnQ8ijA1o/s400/MarchApril+2009+313.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351356483782735298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE4adD1RBnxsyO84E0qjeO00ioQbKbgo_pZVjn626ftF-Hacg2wS5vrgaiHovuidNtphoZ6Waz6Oi_l4HLhN3FloAMNdqRWVhmQ8zJPK1tt9znZpMMqXLYbC8DMb1Doj4gs_ykrgRTqOE/s400/MarchApril+2009+205.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351356496509743506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VC0ynQZghJ2yKIalYwnFZ347fRjTGgkAzMTMz3g2qHBaZNvJOUOmSriajaBb_kwLvb6nhyg6FZ2IMfcj14kx067_66uw1NZgucWRKT1nAMj9BO2Hbi3QuBb9O6avQyddq4ts7o-8oVc/s400/MarchApril+2009+274.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351356492985790098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 206px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3RZTXagW8g7uKfFpgSye7kEuimnWY0SYknYwmk2YSt97Xkyj2JV9l1RBvvyjay_yfAqnZcKTh8Ef2VRSL_VcB8Mi-OnoM_vL4Rm9awzTG2SHlpndIIHhau5OZfkga-PYs93C0dZgY_c/s400/MarchApril+2009+336.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351356488252139298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 360px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMMsbBteTDX1KfNp73daRj2It2zH4iwjmAGtPzB7QlyY-HtcLjrVmFdEL-U3JuQoxNx4JxWWbB59h8i2UWqUQ1kHU8Fjkj2vMidsKDjSroT5a7pZQ7Je5sevSQ0I3MvyMfl7oSi0MgE0/s400/MarchApril+2009+335.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><div></div></div></div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-2717046533749809732009-04-26T19:00:00.000-07:002010-03-07T00:00:10.487-08:00Sanctuary....Aaaaaahhhhh......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTD859SWweO6FucOI5gmyu-1r_b0kbWO5cqXDxRg5W7EFJxh7M8GIbauAv5Eztyp7Hee5gBsgw3DeWARAqbAQOeUwTQb_5DT9YCRppGlc3VJ42lCqMfi8iMvw9M9blwIpFJkFllBQRpWM/s1600-h/Dec-Jan+2008-09+106.jpg"></a>Sometimes life doesn't go the way that we plan it. Usually when we look at the big picture, there is a rhyme and a reason to it. The hard part is looking at the big picture. There are many ways to deal with this. Prayer, scripture study, talking things out with someone you trust. I also firmly believe that you need a sanctuary. Just a little spot that you create that is totally you. My craft room is that place. When we moved into our house, the laundry room was designated as mine. Not just for the massive amounts of laundry that my family produces. (Really, I thought I had just 4 kids....) No, I picked it because it has a built in wall to wall desk, linoleum floors that were already a bit trashed (now I feel less guilty about paint) and lots of cupboards. It was cream and kind of a tomato soup red. It was cute and totally suited the personality of the friend who lived here before. Not my style though, so I have been working to transform it to my taste. I knew I would have to compensate for it being in the basement and not having a big window and having to get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ALOT</span> of craft stuff in a small space. I also wanted items that inspire me. Oh yeah, and it has to be done without spending any money. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hmm</span>...tall order.<br />Here is what I ended up with. Starting with the walls, mixed some paint I had left over and came up with a grey/blue that is the perfect foil for any other color. Painted the cupboards white as well as the shelves for the wall. Hung some funky indigo blue curtains that I have had kicking around for years across the back wall to deaden the sound of <span style="color:#ffff00;">the</span> washer and dryer. Now comes the quirky fun factor...These pictures were taken standing in the middle of the room turning counter clockwise (skipping the door ~ boring!)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185936287755490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9-q-nLBCCR54kCiuQxBEbrgZh7VE1_4e_Wm4YOs2Q89saiQRZrMIiFNig5f6h357JG2pKGWBtHOt5TaFM1lOEFi_iIa9F4D-UCjefBJNKNF5gPKRK1rGX60EmK8LcfNgSdL6av1OBRk/s400/MarchApril+060.jpg" border="0" />This shelf used to be in a florist shop as part of a hutch. They were throwing it away and a friend claimed it and gave it to me. I love the bird picture painted by my sister in law <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Colett</span>, she is an amazing artist. Her blog is linked to mine...you should check out her art. :-) The rest are items that inspire me, either things I have made or found. Check out the sweet vintage table runner that I put on top of the dryer.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185939589839362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjDqRw1DF41A4ZGqUpuxExN9J9APbDLsZmj6BzK4WSZcFLG0UXFuPupGDYeF9ItGZJomwX1hcsMz8Vig8x9b7NDTnyl9yO65xC2CbYihL_OXpm5pKQY4U1yT3vMAstl6y0Y9kKWR8Xj4/s400/MarchApril+061.jpg" border="0" /><br />The drawers are actually the plastic ones you find at Target that I added paper to. They are sitting on a shelf that had five spaces on it with vertical dividers that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Shon's</span> Grandpa Howard used to have in his shop. He made it, which makes me love it even more. I added the wood medallions on the bottom and painted it. The items below are sitting on a narrow table that is desk height which is ~ not white! But it will be when the weather gets better. :-)<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185939861850930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOd6A-pJPAniQp3hIvRQkFfz7jvUAIz0QwVneZbiqaNYiGI2v8AYoV05nx08PCV_JkxM9cmEqHDGLaXsgGm4gcYzxZTiOU_auG-KaUtUVKpfWeb6trARIodcDJhfVMtHQ3L9t9-O7bNI/s400/MarchApril+062.jpg" border="0" />I added some peg board to hang the things that I use a lot. My scrapbook paper is kept close at hand, sorted to my own whimsical filing style. Easy access for those spur of the moment decoupage or crafting urges! The fun little wooden statue of the African woman is something that my Nana brought back from one of her trips before I was even born. I love the clean lines of it.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329190272523915842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAIE4LnA4c4fOHm_BeSq4NHmdUIrMCY-UghyGi3_Hxz42Pv1NbGtBKajfbZ17BMOaHkzgalD2f4CuTZ2VgeO4j-Feemmiq_SevfpqBkJgoiK9XEXfFpvTqjEUXehyphenhyphenTRvaW5A_tLA-4bc/s400/Dec-Jan+2008-09+105.jpg" border="0" />A few changes since this picture was taken, I was in the middle of a project so it was messy. I have rearranged the top, and put stuff away. I like things to be handy, but you also need room to work. BTW, is that not the cutest desk chair ever? Thanks to Aunt Betty, several years ago, she was getting rid of it and wondered if I wanted it. She told me I could recover it if I wanted to...don't want to. I love it just the way it is. (plus it is so comfy!)<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187558313201602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9Wl2D98lrXwUnqkuEfS3GITwTJZUh-AieiG_MKwcs5esDAcBNuqxMYbaaxS1TH5_Or9e56PKmBvc_kSe0PCsBaTmaagbFTh6ndYb3ey4Rs6qWOQZIYMe2vPOO-0dl7lDAErck3dniVY/s400/MarchApril+066.jpg" border="0" />Lots going on in this picture. I know that visually it is busy, but I have found that if things are not out and labelled, I forget to use them. I found these cute wooden shelves at the Robert's outlet for a $1 each. Sweet! I want to paint them white. They hold lots of little things in clear paint cans.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187552552699474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQd08AcKRbM1z-Q5W7DvfxtFLH8oWlnONpKx366Pnd5MOrraU6hEUaZ0R7wDV1P7hZYLw7wKo8gJwcc_2mIeXpsH3-Z8-b3RFVQazvK0l6X8XpnPlUzn0JWJ4nlZq3mBEaQMVL511VuA/s400/MarchApril+065.jpg" border="0" />Wayne-O made that wonderful orange shelf for my 30<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span> b-day. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Yay</span> way cool father in law! It didn't start out orange, but in it's current life, orange it is! I love the pop of color! The big white shelf is one that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Shon</span> hates, but I won't let him touch. When we were first married, someone gave us a gigantic water bed. We had a different bed that we liked. We didn't have money for wood to make shelves, so my sweet hubby cut up the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">waterbed</span> and made me a bookcase. He did this with barely any tools. Just a saw and a drill. He looks at it and sees it's imperfections, but I look at it is and see his love. :-) Sigh. I like that boy!<br /><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyDaCLEkR7fuWyW25jG47w5wnToFyn2Tm6hST-g2R5JXKqle4vh_QDiolmb9QZn1f7KBnP5A7mH5aCi-AEU45J0wF1SUgeIy7YCcQQgJcXDh1Jspw1Q3x-waSgFi6i7V4bgC367JiQWI/s1600-h/MarchApril+064.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185947567310530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyDaCLEkR7fuWyW25jG47w5wnToFyn2Tm6hST-g2R5JXKqle4vh_QDiolmb9QZn1f7KBnP5A7mH5aCi-AEU45J0wF1SUgeIy7YCcQQgJcXDh1Jspw1Q3x-waSgFi6i7V4bgC367JiQWI/s400/MarchApril+064.jpg" border="0" /></a> I love this cupboard! Seriously someone threw it out! The kids and I found it on the side of the road. Made a few changes, there were country duck curtains instead of the metal and I changed out the knobs...Believe it or not, it was the same color as the indigo curtains I already had!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvFDNZ3B3P0GiQY791tL2LF4DztLPxO7MmzjsEkN1AIM3BG6yNZVKnhqSVW8p7ocyGLZgRCI7pt8yttQPiUzW4Gs7OXqRx4wWGKAmaztbezu6SsRrNT_AhA73ruknfKBRwmNkA-5KRoo/s1600-h/MarchApril+063.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185943241395250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvFDNZ3B3P0GiQY791tL2LF4DztLPxO7MmzjsEkN1AIM3BG6yNZVKnhqSVW8p7ocyGLZgRCI7pt8yttQPiUzW4Gs7OXqRx4wWGKAmaztbezu6SsRrNT_AhA73ruknfKBRwmNkA-5KRoo/s400/MarchApril+063.jpg" border="0" /></a> Little bits to spark creativity....The bottles are vintage food coloring. Some of the food coloring has dried into powder and is still in there. The little porcelain girl statue is one that my Nan and Papa gave me when I was 4. The owls just crack me up. They look so satisfied with life. The cute little shelf that they are in is actually an old cardboard box that was filled with mini-jam jars. Repeat after me...spray paint is your friend!<br /><div><br /><div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187569946506978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5UNItdaFwR_o70OcOu369adH7uKGnj1BcqoSfgRS1A0HlQPsSq_uXCi0dk0aKSvvLKDBSOtEOFAW7k6RuH0sSbid_cssd58r4Oz7q0dpOfz7kk-ZRjSmKK2giwCRdUeN66qwV2nnwjc/s400/MarchApril+068.jpg" border="0" /> Sadly necessary, but not cute...maybe I should spray paint them orange? ;-) I don't usually want everything to match, I just like things to look like they are "friends" with each other, but in this case the room is so small that I have chosen some things as basics, like the white, grey and indigo. Then it was fun to branch out with pops of color. Welcome to my sanctuary. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-73567946560119675062009-04-20T22:04:00.000-07:002010-03-07T00:01:08.884-08:00Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAYUEam5Ll6T8LdY_zdhFBc-Ej2gq0jPaUDWRuzNIO5cGb2i1aTgOs62KQ3uGcxmD8lGF-uzKDexdl10icouStY4xKkrgdexvElwu-CMXTPQdbstN_S58tMNBiWDfYTHIipTQVWnBi0fY/s1600-h/hotel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327006735780391090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAYUEam5Ll6T8LdY_zdhFBc-Ej2gq0jPaUDWRuzNIO5cGb2i1aTgOs62KQ3uGcxmD8lGF-uzKDexdl10icouStY4xKkrgdexvElwu-CMXTPQdbstN_S58tMNBiWDfYTHIipTQVWnBi0fY/s400/hotel.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I just finished this book and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">absolutely</span> loved it! I am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fascinated</span> by that time period in history anyway, but this book really brought out the simple dignity of the Japanese people during WWII in the US while the internment camps were being filled. There was such a fear of the unknown, and it is so sad to think of these hardworking citizens being judged by who their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ancestors</span> were. The racism was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">heightened</span> by the negative feeling between many of the Chinese and Japanese <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">immigrants</span>. That being said, there is the "sweet" to the "bitter" and that is the way that children can see through the color of our skin, shape of our eyes and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">weight</span> of our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ancestry</span> to what is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">truly</span> important. Dignity, honesty, music, love and laughter. I almost never read books more than once, but this is one that I will read many times over. The joy outweighed the sorrow in it. The characters had many layers, so that you were able to <em>understand</em> the "why" of certain behaviors even if you don't <em>agree</em> with them. This would make a wonderful book group book. If anyone reads it, let me know what you think!</div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-77962775464481309322009-04-18T13:33:00.000-07:002010-03-09T23:11:43.894-08:00Disturbing signs....In my head, I am not turning 38. When I think about age (which is rarely) I still feel like a young adult. However, reality can be cruel and truth can be brutal as I am reminded in small ways of getting older...wrinkles around my eyes, being "creaky" from arthritis when our weather changes, having a son old enough to drive and being called Ma'am. Sometimes, these reminders can be funny as well as brutal. I walked into my bedroom the other day and found these two items sitting side by side on the table under my window. (Thanks again for those cute curtains as a housewarming Colett...Love them!)<br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326134382343839298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDlRnVDhs9i-qKit2JMkEHlEfOWpVPVfJZG1AFDOmcF1G5YbNDHRhUiS_B0-0_0jOCsIPhZPDFXx_o9CBIMsEw09PGkGqmI7i2ao01ie1erY7moPgGQEspJfD6Ze7Ow_V3or8fUeg5dbY/s400/March+2009+068.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Hmm...sometimes looking good needs a little more help than just foundation! Made me laugh. We are fixing up our bedroom and I hadn't put everything back in the garage yet. </div>Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589376578811798661.post-38357792551825351022009-04-03T20:28:00.001-07:002010-03-09T23:09:02.375-08:00Gettin' it done...Joey style!I wonder what it is about 12 year old boys that makes their rooms so incredibly toxic?<br />*I know that my sweet child bathes...and when forced to he even uses soap!<br />*I know he wears clean clothes, I have learned from having an older son, to make sure to inspect his feet, and to reiterate that clean clothing means clean socks too. Socks were not designed to be worn until they can stand alone and aloof from the world~driving the rest of us away from their previously white <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cotton</span> goodness by the rank scent <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">emanating</span> from them. *Bedding is changed and washed often ~ probably even more often than most bedding because of his asthma.<br /><br />All of that being said, I want to let you in on a little truth.....<br /><br />Boy's rooms are SCARY!<br /><br />There are little bits of wire, string and tape. Creations line the dresser, items are stuck up on the board. Little collections, precious to the mind of a 12 year old, dot the room, roosting in odd places, an open drawer, on the desk, under the bed...clothing slips unheeded from hangers to puddle on the closet floor. When encouraged to hang these back up, it provokes a stare and an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">eyeroll</span> when your son thinks you aren't looking. Written on his expression you can read his thoughts like a book...really mom! Only the mindless masses hang their clothes, I want to be an original!<br /><br />It is amazing how many <strong>things</strong> there are, washers, crazy glue, clay, pencils that are worn to the nib...the silly eraser on the end is longer than the wood. Encouraging a 12 year old to throw these out provokes a wounded look and the timeless protest, "I have plans for that! It is part of a _______!" (fill in the blank)<br /><br />I was unsure if I was making any progress convincing my son that he needed to clean his room before it was deemed unsafe for human habitation. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Apparently</span> he came around to my way of thinking. I sent him in to clean his room the other day. He called out that he needed to prepare first. Here is what he had in mind......A helmet, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">safety</span> glasses, gloves and a mask....I think I agree!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320677380678550178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQc4tvb90LrrDQUVe9FOAZkhAfWVPVdKbiKzF1JYExmsg4H7xaftocXJJtIftFcmWwNBq6XT41FqYpsJUwx0OIRK3WBxnGfGTqajXVV6P3946HL01_meoNv9SeXZiXqAafbOCH_b2dNE/s400/January-February+2009+004.jpg" border="0" />Keehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04162462485009909028noreply@blogger.com3