tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61861791259305989782024-03-12T17:48:48.313-07:00Brothers GriffinSuehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-38638257588370153062010-12-19T14:26:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:31:24.524-08:00A Perfect Picture Except . . .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiif3qoPU6ruDSNrpfBls0Ur4CSa7I8Dzam9_7hCFRU6rgJSRgHgVq16iE-SUiY0Teq8kOx5MWGpHkb_FpA202itG9WTLzTFQ1r3i8BEklzcfT2UO9Oojathmgi65vv0N-6eRKWyb6ztmo/s1600/runningbetter2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 290px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552523565370203618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiif3qoPU6ruDSNrpfBls0Ur4CSa7I8Dzam9_7hCFRU6rgJSRgHgVq16iE-SUiY0Teq8kOx5MWGpHkb_FpA202itG9WTLzTFQ1r3i8BEklzcfT2UO9Oojathmgi65vv0N-6eRKWyb6ztmo/s400/runningbetter2.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We love this picture but someone is missing. Can you find Ricky? Hint: Look behind Ben's leg. As always, Ricky's a little behind. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It's funny how pictures make you think that everything is right with the world. You see the joy, the smiles, the good behavior. We got about fifteen good pictures out of our photo shoot. The photographer took over 300. I would see that this is a pretty realistic representation of our life. But the good moments make it all worth it. </span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-5222619034803433882010-12-19T14:23:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:25:14.216-08:00Mother and Daughter<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUtVxEy5zGMfUhAVEmTOGb7PV_HfsBRjxdq3jBd2KC47k_d6T6qlwueHZiWlcSZSkJLboqn8ZwDuLH78q8cf5_YlgeYFFwSYit_bHGoHVcv5MVK4-hexinfkIEiMFMWs_al5gz3ND5_w/s1600/Rebekah+10-14-10+398.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552522771401624498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUtVxEy5zGMfUhAVEmTOGb7PV_HfsBRjxdq3jBd2KC47k_d6T6qlwueHZiWlcSZSkJLboqn8ZwDuLH78q8cf5_YlgeYFFwSYit_bHGoHVcv5MVK4-hexinfkIEiMFMWs_al5gz3ND5_w/s400/Rebekah+10-14-10+398.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I am crazy about this girl, even if she does keep me a bit off balance.<br /></span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-83838774194623980682010-12-19T14:21:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:23:08.387-08:00The Two Debi's<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11LPbMgns6Jt9fSLTYPcRDzJ6mCYVDzFl_tZSR83U1LwLDVv_G1BHza7Y2MXUL4UGXmcmL6psm9ircPnKPqRGJQuj2d_L2JAjHapPY862YaWqonZVrRfp56oJM7rRhrEv-FB5i9l_oNI/s1600/Rebekah+10-14-10+387.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552522207887462194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11LPbMgns6Jt9fSLTYPcRDzJ6mCYVDzFl_tZSR83U1LwLDVv_G1BHza7Y2MXUL4UGXmcmL6psm9ircPnKPqRGJQuj2d_L2JAjHapPY862YaWqonZVrRfp56oJM7rRhrEv-FB5i9l_oNI/s400/Rebekah+10-14-10+387.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">This is my daughter with my mother. Both are named Debi. Good name, isn't it? </span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-32118622462830963262010-12-19T14:18:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:20:11.203-08:00Daddy's Girl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE6lTix_NkVUt3bqb0lp5vhyphenhyphenTDNTlJ78dvLH927-NBER9p7zHPqDwWGEntyPAVIbPa4MHHovULMg3LatrZuAJ-d6NsdDnzxvLzyE0C05Sl0DSLKaLWacW4d9-jupS4ZV9U9GFWy-iPmc/s1600/Rebekah+10-14-10+132.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552521546420561762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE6lTix_NkVUt3bqb0lp5vhyphenhyphenTDNTlJ78dvLH927-NBER9p7zHPqDwWGEntyPAVIbPa4MHHovULMg3LatrZuAJ-d6NsdDnzxvLzyE0C05Sl0DSLKaLWacW4d9-jupS4ZV9U9GFWy-iPmc/s400/Rebekah+10-14-10+132.jpg" /></a><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Daddy's Girl</span></p>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-66822286238863520272010-12-19T14:12:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:20:43.174-08:00Did You Notice<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0t46LLDY4gbcqxfWPiIUzxFgVAy7azmy8yrlrSm5_JE1_AdiE7MgiUkKcpJ2_0YdeB_8NzlKw9EWgwh-gY27AipCFbllo-_v1wSTS8v9pmAPZftCiG8GSFeTJSwnf739XyxHrRN-_XTk/s1600/Rebekah+10-14-10+21closer.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552520147850761762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0t46LLDY4gbcqxfWPiIUzxFgVAy7azmy8yrlrSm5_JE1_AdiE7MgiUkKcpJ2_0YdeB_8NzlKw9EWgwh-gY27AipCFbllo-_v1wSTS8v9pmAPZftCiG8GSFeTJSwnf739XyxHrRN-_XTk/s400/Rebekah+10-14-10+21closer.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Did you notice?<br /><br />No screaming<br />No kicking<br />No hitting<br />No crying<br />No bleeding<br />No squawking<br />No burping<br />No vomiting<br />No pouting<br />No whining<br />No biting<br /><br />And . . .<br /><br />No rooster hair<br />No broken arms<br />No runny noses<br />No dirty faces<br />No untied shoes<br /><br />And we are like this all the time!<br />Maybe, not.<br />But we were like this for a moment, and hey! We'll take that. Thought we'd share our best moment with you. </span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-72859278530202574072010-12-19T14:11:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:50:46.172-08:00The Griffin 5<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFa-GZzs-05DaMurv-dU0hdmVKc0cLnWkZY_0Z-kYYkbB9jjRMYAZtugSF0ocjwJiNQnojZ1NwIlW-qup1Uz1o9Z70HLjw3muy63vsqFcK9xIyDr6fgAnv7SHvtdA8zdckPyUd7AB2WY/s1600/Shirleycloser.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552519697271106450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFa-GZzs-05DaMurv-dU0hdmVKc0cLnWkZY_0Z-kYYkbB9jjRMYAZtugSF0ocjwJiNQnojZ1NwIlW-qup1Uz1o9Z70HLjw3muy63vsqFcK9xIyDr6fgAnv7SHvtdA8zdckPyUd7AB2WY/s400/Shirleycloser.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Deborah was so squirmy!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Future Careers of Our Children</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Ben: Litigator. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">His favorite two words are "Yeah, but." He's also has a sensitive side for mice. We predict he'll be fighing for animal rights.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Eli: College Professor. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">He's will correct you if you mispronounce something or use poor grammar. And he loves to read.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Davy: Professional Stunt Man. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Anyone that knows the boy needs no explanation.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Ricky: CIA operative. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">He's one stealthy little guy and is always hacking into our computers. He's very quiet, and sometimes I don't see him for days. He's great CIA material because he's low maintenance. He's the kind of guy that the government could station out in Siberia--they could even forget about him for a few years, and he'd be o.k. with that. Especially if they gave him a Wii. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Deborah: Diva. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Either opera or R&B. That girl has one set of pipes. When we let her cry herself to sleep one night, she really belted it out for five minutes and then she was silent. David was impressed. "You'd be wiped out too," I said, "If you just gave a performance like that." She also acts--she can arch her back and throw herself on the floor with style. She does this while maintaining eye contact with her mother. </span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-26037724725419034452010-12-19T14:10:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:11:31.866-08:00Ricky and Eli<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ThaMVMg8heN532TU89MALiCmCZ40rRcAWApEsw5gow9mV81efqkt4L0GfOHtSjAnCrCwAoYMNZXC44kpIxBK1PFFsS0GA8oAgzSwRsFBxDeBJWZmF40l3JE8wsSTOExOr8E0OCyzWxM/s1600/ricky+and+eli2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552519349139543602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ThaMVMg8heN532TU89MALiCmCZ40rRcAWApEsw5gow9mV81efqkt4L0GfOHtSjAnCrCwAoYMNZXC44kpIxBK1PFFsS0GA8oAgzSwRsFBxDeBJWZmF40l3JE8wsSTOExOr8E0OCyzWxM/s400/ricky+and+eli2.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Ricky and Eli<br /></div></span>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-50019800288897096262010-12-19T14:06:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:10:26.771-08:00Our Family Portrait<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4ljtaG4xjQn1KlfUx5CVm9QBUCUC3clBS_YA32hPLPs-KPOz0yG4w4UwD_HuDpJL9E5hiLaGL6X4VIIokMgRkTzzpPUUk5GQiW9MbQka7_lQnyyJQfMqhOowiB7yayAckUEMx9INcaM/s1600/Family+Portrait+Edited.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 345px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552518493375606674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4ljtaG4xjQn1KlfUx5CVm9QBUCUC3clBS_YA32hPLPs-KPOz0yG4w4UwD_HuDpJL9E5hiLaGL6X4VIIokMgRkTzzpPUUk5GQiW9MbQka7_lQnyyJQfMqhOowiB7yayAckUEMx9INcaM/s400/Family+Portrait+Edited.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">The day was so beautiful when we took these pictures! And everyone is acting so good--for at least a moment. </span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-33960016377499821992010-12-19T14:04:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:25:53.281-08:00Deborah in Your Face<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Deborah was so hard to keep still during the photo shoot. She was supposed to be sitting up, but she started to crawl towards the camera when our photographer got this shot. I love how she looks like she's still! </span></div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJx_isukTlIw4EcWw5RDkqj_nvJrx5WuLwzEBBLrV57vrk45USnkN0UMeJdTImQTBwF60gEGIOhV28GFdweEEiEqRhkfSqP4zRQ-cDN-xN8hydOJQSiiHlxC8Izs1ri-IZdMrDfWxvz0/s1600/deborah+in+your+face.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552517837358458050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJx_isukTlIw4EcWw5RDkqj_nvJrx5WuLwzEBBLrV57vrk45USnkN0UMeJdTImQTBwF60gEGIOhV28GFdweEEiEqRhkfSqP4zRQ-cDN-xN8hydOJQSiiHlxC8Izs1ri-IZdMrDfWxvz0/s400/deborah+in+your+face.jpg" /></a>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-30795339592114499932010-12-19T14:02:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:04:22.779-08:00Racing to the Finish<div align="center">I thought this captured the true spirit of our boys, don't you? </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezUt9eiGjfuaOObKXEgZDz4jH6LYOXh_NliG6KrHKbgg-lRxX8WXnnLPRobvXBb_O64qjuEy8p0Zh5xajdj09wWoLEw4iDWsQ5YC35r1uCfNTxFKcfthupykhWDQQtL-ook2_u5gCbRU/s1600/boys+running.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552517345122642258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezUt9eiGjfuaOObKXEgZDz4jH6LYOXh_NliG6KrHKbgg-lRxX8WXnnLPRobvXBb_O64qjuEy8p0Zh5xajdj09wWoLEw4iDWsQ5YC35r1uCfNTxFKcfthupykhWDQQtL-ook2_u5gCbRU/s400/boys+running.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-75162930569293399392010-12-03T17:45:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:33:01.044-08:00Oatmeal Boy<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">While Deborah is my little Diva, Ricky is --well, easy. When we came home from running errands today, I hurried to find something for Deborah to eat before she got too hysterical. Ricky just got up on his chair and started eating his breakfast oatmeal. Turns out it tasted great for lunch. And that was all he needed.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZKWjuzimajX7okMmkYOkoGXLqyK6mzjV_yOTpTMqiaoUkD4SfRM8M5y3K4suGAS5PkbSTLuH4JKH4VUR2j-nM5brk_tBo3kcBnExwWOPTCjaSj8afq0bfsCYRu9V_vU0VV32RUGO0Hs/s1600/December+4th+049.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546637903472894722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZKWjuzimajX7okMmkYOkoGXLqyK6mzjV_yOTpTMqiaoUkD4SfRM8M5y3K4suGAS5PkbSTLuH4JKH4VUR2j-nM5brk_tBo3kcBnExwWOPTCjaSj8afq0bfsCYRu9V_vU0VV32RUGO0Hs/s400/December+4th+049.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Here is Ricky on our walk home--I asked him if he was ready to get back in the stroller. Turns out, he misunderstood me. He was ready to push the stroller, all the long long really long way home. On his own.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ilD83HxBPHL0MROUwnNthtqrvk0PCTNi6JXOrBIX7d4roXg9I-xnlTM6GIuTOgu3OMY0nG1Sqvvkkx0hfaIJnCVq1HU4cM3IiulI4SJ_bEIEdy6o6JlcVsXm15uGSkzTO9jH3dwmvz4/s1600/December+4th+065.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546637894580347714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ilD83HxBPHL0MROUwnNthtqrvk0PCTNi6JXOrBIX7d4roXg9I-xnlTM6GIuTOgu3OMY0nG1Sqvvkkx0hfaIJnCVq1HU4cM3IiulI4SJ_bEIEdy6o6JlcVsXm15uGSkzTO9jH3dwmvz4/s400/December+4th+065.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-42576437202980301802010-12-03T17:38:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:33:33.551-08:00Candy Cane Cookies<span style="font-size:130%;">I got a little crazy on a school night and actually let my boys make Christmas cookies. I blame it on the Family Fun magazine that keeps showing up even though we haven't renewed our subscription for forever---And their cookies this month looked divine. I showed the boys all the pictures of the cookies during dinner--and they all got excited-<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKV40dqm9QFpm2XwgXrMKOwan0FcgWO-EKJWgCD4y9P6gZcTBhmDFrM3FJkcaF-U4A89ryoTuLE4tPC3r87HHAOw63cAz3sZfdhlgTzxYqjsAXrY2LVCYNCOXEVz-XdDG14IDI5pZIgFY/s1600/December+4th+004.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546635954580069954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKV40dqm9QFpm2XwgXrMKOwan0FcgWO-EKJWgCD4y9P6gZcTBhmDFrM3FJkcaF-U4A89ryoTuLE4tPC3r87HHAOw63cAz3sZfdhlgTzxYqjsAXrY2LVCYNCOXEVz-XdDG14IDI5pZIgFY/s400/December+4th+004.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">So we decided to make the candy can cookies--<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc1lYFGsLpRtM2pwccHBIUPSgd3SrGZPxvvJWLmnhgrG2eMx1df3OCM2WIzNHCgfaKVCW_hNTl2Y-P9BhyphenhyphenmZ760SnXQmX1zZt2X5PdeSWCk8dYr-3SPUkl6arKT5wzIdDd-nOI88gJXhE/s1600/December+4th+012.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546635947223901314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc1lYFGsLpRtM2pwccHBIUPSgd3SrGZPxvvJWLmnhgrG2eMx1df3OCM2WIzNHCgfaKVCW_hNTl2Y-P9BhyphenhyphenmZ760SnXQmX1zZt2X5PdeSWCk8dYr-3SPUkl6arKT5wzIdDd-nOI88gJXhE/s400/December+4th+012.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> The boys were actually pretty independent--they wanted to put them together all by themselves. The only problem was that we didn't have peppermint flavoring so we used mint. Turns out that wasn't a good substitution--<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-CqmgIMd1AKhsdZeUboxC-IYNR6J0ejQ3Fk1J9lGirDOC_ICiuEG2636FW-Jo18akBA8xuo6qjFFFqEpbr21Qfoj5YcbYKCncA6P3CC4_VmIuGVCUdZ56CiLK6kojGPzhlEX78YMU0fc/s1600/December+4th+010.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546635936152604610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-CqmgIMd1AKhsdZeUboxC-IYNR6J0ejQ3Fk1J9lGirDOC_ICiuEG2636FW-Jo18akBA8xuo6qjFFFqEpbr21Qfoj5YcbYKCncA6P3CC4_VmIuGVCUdZ56CiLK6kojGPzhlEX78YMU0fc/s400/December+4th+010.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />None of the boys liked them--except for Ricky. And no, he doesn't NOT remind you of a little dog in this picture.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3T-rZjp-8Nfje2pgcyQd1WuyzXTLlN9yNKBZ-OJR44tB5SHf5Cby9JKh7o1thD5pt6-J0-9GQlfmQYVImsqOwWn4mpRZGJEF0DZbygIJScBL0qLfuKs3IXQWbHAsU3q8ttxq8ygzyxjU/s1600/December+4th+022.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546635930696769730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3T-rZjp-8Nfje2pgcyQd1WuyzXTLlN9yNKBZ-OJR44tB5SHf5Cby9JKh7o1thD5pt6-J0-9GQlfmQYVImsqOwWn4mpRZGJEF0DZbygIJScBL0qLfuKs3IXQWbHAsU3q8ttxq8ygzyxjU/s400/December+4th+022.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div></div></div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-44194526317240251112010-12-01T14:38:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:34:19.875-08:00Are We Ready For Winter?<span style="font-size:130%;">I don't know if I'm ready for winter--especially with Deborah! We had another into everything, won't sit in mommy's lap, arching back day with her, and so I finally decided to take them for a walk--despite the twenty degree weather.<br /><br />Deborah did not like her snowsuit. She couldn't move! I loved it. Here is Deborah trying to move.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqO-m1KXlVuCZg2a-LFRYb4haVJ98_MU_cSM6HDq8jpLJn8EGF6NBDyXigPx7DHvw7QfpEdHnaEgnn2h3ZnNButQMF7t0o6d2_BsB-OE0zm-HQ0NJh7vv40YUsniV4NnrhimwPsoTmYqQ/s1600/december+004.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545847371196052898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqO-m1KXlVuCZg2a-LFRYb4haVJ98_MU_cSM6HDq8jpLJn8EGF6NBDyXigPx7DHvw7QfpEdHnaEgnn2h3ZnNButQMF7t0o6d2_BsB-OE0zm-HQ0NJh7vv40YUsniV4NnrhimwPsoTmYqQ/s400/december+004.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Here is Deborah frustrated because she's can roll over, get up, or crawl. She's crying (not laughing), in case you were confused.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPMsRVkeXt1Pgajk87skDAO_kPdbPcMH9eZY8Y2D4ZgAIXUmJC-6TjfzN8rYhue7s0orId13A_qFRUEBZyB-auSHY-x1ihOoTd3q1vbZfnbrfgUxYZegqnu6GPnuSLKqwNrmS_5bI7IA/s1600/december+007.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545847370884298322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPMsRVkeXt1Pgajk87skDAO_kPdbPcMH9eZY8Y2D4ZgAIXUmJC-6TjfzN8rYhue7s0orId13A_qFRUEBZyB-auSHY-x1ihOoTd3q1vbZfnbrfgUxYZegqnu6GPnuSLKqwNrmS_5bI7IA/s400/december+007.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">It was a gray day, but the mountains are still beautiful.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoetSmDLfCtAeKJdlRWOo6MS04owLbegbPdwoE49D27KDpLXXhg2EsUo2WErZkCMQx2DcsF5v0yKVfTDxmsBhepp25tkU4chbO4YtG-SNDl8PEPPYSwUSFNTBM2qt1OcRofMiknBVRuA/s1600/december+015.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545847360063818930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoetSmDLfCtAeKJdlRWOo6MS04owLbegbPdwoE49D27KDpLXXhg2EsUo2WErZkCMQx2DcsF5v0yKVfTDxmsBhepp25tkU4chbO4YtG-SNDl8PEPPYSwUSFNTBM2qt1OcRofMiknBVRuA/s400/december+015.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> After walking ten minutes, both children fell asleep. And woke up ten minutes later. But for the moment, they were beautiful and peaceful. Peace is good.<br /><br /><br /></span></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kzBWT3TT7PkNoZqtHGNpcludu4GiOkpm6BxcO0gBDs_TbGqzRBZpad5vC3zejvvVp9XIrciJYhpVWLeOHFhbtE-8KPprKqsp21-k_T5yz6VtkdxI7ZjD0GQfow7TGjGl_oygF4REYIc/s1600/december+011.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545847357005588114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kzBWT3TT7PkNoZqtHGNpcludu4GiOkpm6BxcO0gBDs_TbGqzRBZpad5vC3zejvvVp9XIrciJYhpVWLeOHFhbtE-8KPprKqsp21-k_T5yz6VtkdxI7ZjD0GQfow7TGjGl_oygF4REYIc/s400/december+011.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div></div></div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-20852922209390703172010-11-29T13:04:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:34:45.348-08:00My Jewels<span style="font-size:130%;">Yesterday was just lovely because I decided to spend one on one time with each of my children. It was a little tricky to get them all in, but I was so glad I did.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM08tYR8PUt3uXXoiOm35hp6U-znDj3Og50CWn3Mc1Aax_mhRnikEuaoIzb_EpWEkCQ80WNgFpiikPOcomYJrAfDrhFCftdjHVP6K7DHSdbmH7NaM8E5WkKIKOvq0sckW7BWqnC1-oLe0/s1600/Rebekah+10-14-10+106+%25282%2529.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545105835167561586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM08tYR8PUt3uXXoiOm35hp6U-znDj3Og50CWn3Mc1Aax_mhRnikEuaoIzb_EpWEkCQ80WNgFpiikPOcomYJrAfDrhFCftdjHVP6K7DHSdbmH7NaM8E5WkKIKOvq0sckW7BWqnC1-oLe0/s400/Rebekah+10-14-10+106+%25282%2529.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">The photographer told us to wear jewel tones. I thought that appropriate since these are my jewels. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I've always tried to get the house in order before sitting down with my kids, but as I'm learning, the house is never entirely an order. I can never keep up, and I end up grouchy, and my kids end up rowdy. </span></div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I read a book about animal tails with Ricky, and then I read about a magic paint brush with Davy. Eli is learning his American cities for the geography bee. Ben read to me an adventure story involving Captain Cook, and even Deborah got into her picture book, <em>How I Became a Pirate</em>. I wouldn't be suprised if that is a career path she might choose. She is my high adventure, wandering, sometimes naughty little girl, but I wouldn't have her any other way.<br /><br /></span><div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-52842816990066574842010-11-27T09:09:00.000-08:002010-11-27T17:30:15.429-08:00Deborah Weborah<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Thanksgiving was so lovely. Food, family, and love in abundance, and you think that nothing could possibly every be hard again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Ah, but then comes Black Friday. I didn't even go shopping. I got Dave and the older boys on their way to Park City. I should have sent Deborah. She could have been Bjorned on Dave while he skiied a black diamond run. That would have totally been her thing. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She is my adventurous girl. But doesn't she look calm in this picture? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqXPy1UWZuBLjFEwKeprn5T1HoEBnLSGO6HbU2efHB8jpfpdSlYUnE9zV65NbgiRAIX8Y8-f13iTzncwk5v9w2dwlaresW0sM-9lh2dS_O-BmSysnZIvDX5gb6iQXeCUkhT7dG0n4IVU/s1600/Rebekah+10-14-10+215.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544279179648663874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqXPy1UWZuBLjFEwKeprn5T1HoEBnLSGO6HbU2efHB8jpfpdSlYUnE9zV65NbgiRAIX8Y8-f13iTzncwk5v9w2dwlaresW0sM-9lh2dS_O-BmSysnZIvDX5gb6iQXeCUkhT7dG0n4IVU/s400/Rebekah+10-14-10+215.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Ahh, but she is not! She drove me crazy, until I finally bundled her up for a walk. We came back quickly because it was just too cold.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We then decided to go to the library, which meant I had to gather all of my overdue library books. I've decided it is cheaper for me to buy books than to borrow them. I should get some kind of donor status with all my fines. We got there and strike two, the library was closed. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So Ricky, Deborah, and I went to the Courtyard at Jamestown--an assisted living center. It's one of my favorite places. I wish I could check in right now. If you live there, you can ring a bell for service any time you need it. And they make all your food for you too. Heaven! </span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The people there are so lovely--you meet World War II veterans and classy dames. They are so polite and never talk back to you. They are delighted to see you. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We lasted just a few minutes because Deborah wouldn't let me sit down to visit with anyone. Squirmy. Squirmy. And Ricky wet his pants. His training pants. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So I took them home and gave them a bath. Deborah grabbed some bleach cleaner sitting on the edge and dumped it in the bath. I grabbed them both and pulled them out and rinsed them off. </span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I was really tired. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">My dear Mom took me out to a movie when Dave got home, and before I went to bed, I nursed little Deborah. That is my favorite time of the day. She's so still and cuddly and warm and when she's done, I just hold her and rock her. She doesn't move. That's heaven too. </span></p>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-2821019315258693692010-11-26T17:59:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:35:36.307-08:00Thanksgiving Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCUo7PLON7EwsZ4vKFXquVLsYIMLOKMH0gGCE1xjwgVKxtpY5OIaKcqk4Y6GE7POZ99GblLuFctbd9tB-SzwR9JQLTaChS8oRoBsWDOHvAFbyJ2p5HQra-ZcX4Sx3Rk6SbPOPmzUFryc/s1600/239.JPG"></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I love Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday of the year. It was Dad's favorite too. And no wonder. Mom and Mary came over in the morning to make ten pies. Homemade all the way. Even the crust.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKHsTPtrMfAzLS2c6h91kflbnV9Pl14DO90Ga3ie5UpbNqNrzm4WMXe5CdpkrDRgkCqYyJNe4dnCmIlSqkAths1Z0GYlY8McduOpEmb3oFhd93ki2jWmhXv8doXYTJ6y7gNX_fw9lFhs/s1600/236.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544044414934113042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKHsTPtrMfAzLS2c6h91kflbnV9Pl14DO90Ga3ie5UpbNqNrzm4WMXe5CdpkrDRgkCqYyJNe4dnCmIlSqkAths1Z0GYlY8McduOpEmb3oFhd93ki2jWmhXv8doXYTJ6y7gNX_fw9lFhs/s400/236.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"> There were a few setbacks. We followed the wrong coconut pie recipe--but that didn't matter because the coconut filling (for six pies) spilled in Mom's van anyway. As usual, Mom handles setbacks with grace.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWI0nTx7wpHPYI0qlP-sO5DgTy6vOBNWwB7TOxYle_Ym9E2BIH6JrAijnu4gY2RDLsxHefAJDAN2sS6ItWp8ExS5OD1PujDTyJSsw3ueEVLzxyTAtTrdIbXydFkh5Sccu5I9pUDX8um8/s1600/242.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544044403929933106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWI0nTx7wpHPYI0qlP-sO5DgTy6vOBNWwB7TOxYle_Ym9E2BIH6JrAijnu4gY2RDLsxHefAJDAN2sS6ItWp8ExS5OD1PujDTyJSsw3ueEVLzxyTAtTrdIbXydFkh5Sccu5I9pUDX8um8/s400/242.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />We went to my dear Aunt Gayle's who invited the whole Dennis Blackburn crew for dinner. We weren't all there. Travis and Tami were in California with her family. And we really missed Ben and Mindy who are living in Poland. I love Aunt Gayle's house. It is a dollhouse. She has the prettiest rooms with beautiful windows and I love her fireplace mantle and china cabinet. I forgot to take pictures. And she can cook like a storm. </span></div><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKZ7miLbTKMOyOHlHamcC6hzslwJDQGj2M1D5-0Zb94mOl5fvuFh9XTotLdFtgp46Y97dhrwPA55IjDG03Q76cspMCs4PlPG_oqwcAGxuJIltuX8HuippSON4O6opcB3ySTH6BeLUDYk/s1600/237.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544043961293218866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKZ7miLbTKMOyOHlHamcC6hzslwJDQGj2M1D5-0Zb94mOl5fvuFh9XTotLdFtgp46Y97dhrwPA55IjDG03Q76cspMCs4PlPG_oqwcAGxuJIltuX8HuippSON4O6opcB3ySTH6BeLUDYk/s400/237.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Bonnie and Mary look adorable with Greg. Poor Greg. He was really put through the ringer today. He endured well, and when some of the family asked if they were going to see him again, he replied, "That's up to Bonnie."<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBREh6eSgk6JnQKnZVSmi6tLvZLnAryxWxbF7rkkuhT_mbb2x7ikqVHWQe9kpsBCkXSEXYOj0nX40GgRGDgPpsKrDWHPgS4gDNaocKpXSif0Pm9XX12lUIQiAWwPRJkFhb1o17hvFG41U/s1600/240.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544043954948353698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBREh6eSgk6JnQKnZVSmi6tLvZLnAryxWxbF7rkkuhT_mbb2x7ikqVHWQe9kpsBCkXSEXYOj0nX40GgRGDgPpsKrDWHPgS4gDNaocKpXSif0Pm9XX12lUIQiAWwPRJkFhb1o17hvFG41U/s400/240.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Kent's daughters, Andrea and Jessica look gorgeous. Andrea is in Idaho on a softball scholarship and seems to be doing really well. Andrea once told me that Kent practiced with her an hour after school every day--it looks like it has paid off.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdidLfjBZ9D0B1wynMK3UG4jVIz7wDo-3sxKhfAq6kww0yc0Yc6fZZ2EVVT-eBXOx9gqvVwmcXO2NCV9U4tAAitraDVosqo_TyqxOMlApvPZOK4S_82B_91RDAggUtAqFnXNLHWl5hN0/s1600/241.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544043947134646706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdidLfjBZ9D0B1wynMK3UG4jVIz7wDo-3sxKhfAq6kww0yc0Yc6fZZ2EVVT-eBXOx9gqvVwmcXO2NCV9U4tAAitraDVosqo_TyqxOMlApvPZOK4S_82B_91RDAggUtAqFnXNLHWl5hN0/s400/241.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Beautiful women! Mary and Mom. Ah! And there's my china cabinet behind them. Do you see it? It's blue.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIJ5WdyYfnY1cUfIiFFPqcN0BU2bKVwax-xXoiz_WXD8fpiuxr1GKzzFkvgls-dT-T5umgsObuH8zE3rTIN8esMit2ui3WieMJ-czLLgz2HOQLnL-rqLG0wk30DiPwaK9bcRKq_ehXPU/s1600/247.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544043942023563378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIJ5WdyYfnY1cUfIiFFPqcN0BU2bKVwax-xXoiz_WXD8fpiuxr1GKzzFkvgls-dT-T5umgsObuH8zE3rTIN8esMit2ui3WieMJ-czLLgz2HOQLnL-rqLG0wk30DiPwaK9bcRKq_ehXPU/s400/247.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Ricky charmed his cousins with the way he said, "Eleven." He's not used to so much attention (sometimes we don't notice him for days at our house) so he was tickled to have so many beautiful girls laughting at everything he said.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We were so grateful to Aunt Gayle for having us. She is a dear. Her rolls were to die for. The turkey, potatoes, salad, and sweet potatoes were divine. And Katherine whipped up a pretty wicked hummus. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We had a beautiful devotional--so many of us shared our thoughts about Dad. Reed talked about how grateful he is for the priesthood. Philip shared a sweet Carbon County experience. Write it down Phil! Mom talked about how much he loved all of us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The day passed so quickly. I was jolted out of the dream, when David said, "It's time to go home." What? Really? Already? But it was. "Our lives are like unto a dream." Thanksgiving was a dream.<br /><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhimijLVQr1ZCIFuqF1AISf3tWPMR-OgYiTS843q01ZuDL7P7BSaFfgVHAx7viGR6qjlDRLTGyDXwHbRArLaXEtdyG66Yps3NFm4g7C3aSKm1ck1sWLEuK7BaAW3j4LGPae0S3NYzXyP4/s1600/251.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544043933444367554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhimijLVQr1ZCIFuqF1AISf3tWPMR-OgYiTS843q01ZuDL7P7BSaFfgVHAx7viGR6qjlDRLTGyDXwHbRArLaXEtdyG66Yps3NFm4g7C3aSKm1ck1sWLEuK7BaAW3j4LGPae0S3NYzXyP4/s400/251.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-21672098929063028802010-11-26T17:48:00.000-08:002010-11-27T17:34:28.102-08:00Happy Birthday Mom!<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We had a big birthday dinner for Mom at our house on the Sunday after her birthday. Everybody was excited to come! Neil and Ricky are ready to eat! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtNMsAnf_rEBiwdpk-KG54Jf-YNtdUS9wLev1s1E4LUNAVPFruX2GPUfqM7ZzwgaepF0t8EujEisXnVHe8YQtiAnesV9qyLO1tSfpazcIgjQGePKPM3EIx5pCDrm6tJBaa0IL9Qf_IEE/s1600/227.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544041019622238722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtNMsAnf_rEBiwdpk-KG54Jf-YNtdUS9wLev1s1E4LUNAVPFruX2GPUfqM7ZzwgaepF0t8EujEisXnVHe8YQtiAnesV9qyLO1tSfpazcIgjQGePKPM3EIx5pCDrm6tJBaa0IL9Qf_IEE/s400/227.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We all were ready to eat and everybody helped put on a delicious dinner. We had pork roast, barley, delicious spinach salad, corn, and pumpkin bread. I made three huge loaves of pumpkin bread, and we scarfed it all up! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vZ1V6rNxJdp1OzgSVt4PecN_TfA9PLvnVBIfDYly0nWjniZe9qsh5636klxSuveSBhKmKlLZRNPyrSjoBUvMxJPc4RdSlJwUgwbfj1BmsgCFRCdA_lvbGMppBShzy29zuH5ihnHXAu8/s1600/228.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544041017332879938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vZ1V6rNxJdp1OzgSVt4PecN_TfA9PLvnVBIfDYly0nWjniZe9qsh5636klxSuveSBhKmKlLZRNPyrSjoBUvMxJPc4RdSlJwUgwbfj1BmsgCFRCdA_lvbGMppBShzy29zuH5ihnHXAu8/s400/228.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />I didn't think we could get us all on one table, but Mom was determined. And she was right. We could all get on one table, and we felt very close to each other that night.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xLZQMFgvQamMQcH4uosOPmUkIkF9h0ZGacckUcRgi8i560Wfohl52ktsedOe1fPzjz_-vwK5Oc52AJsT7xZyTkngKF5SkNZrpTf05PEfgBxKKcpYyrBUBE7pXpcloLOTrPxyuVNNS-A/s1600/229.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544041007689588498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xLZQMFgvQamMQcH4uosOPmUkIkF9h0ZGacckUcRgi8i560Wfohl52ktsedOe1fPzjz_-vwK5Oc52AJsT7xZyTkngKF5SkNZrpTf05PEfgBxKKcpYyrBUBE7pXpcloLOTrPxyuVNNS-A/s400/229.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Philip and Neil pose for pictures<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDqFwfQs33yIpMwfm-mcpstSsKhw0N8ot-9zFRaPw2lE6ilSB17tsxlH1QiFkagHgJZW-RKBCibN3qTarE0OC2bAZU4gShhVzTA7jgbKwSYzNRFcK4peBypcFGUDql15Qk4BYcUidg-U/s1600/234.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544041004828713234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDqFwfQs33yIpMwfm-mcpstSsKhw0N8ot-9zFRaPw2lE6ilSB17tsxlH1QiFkagHgJZW-RKBCibN3qTarE0OC2bAZU4gShhVzTA7jgbKwSYzNRFcK4peBypcFGUDql15Qk4BYcUidg-U/s400/234.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Philip again with Josie and Deborah. Aren't those too little girls cute! Deborah looks like a Griffin. Josie looks like a Blackburn.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTy2mPgHWIGAigvVppelwAhbrIv7sfS39zF9t8lutKoCO5wRHIkbQaUq1zplcVQ8225-J1FJsREAIRHoOHYfRJrbX3zqrvEg0hFQtm8sazK7yWzd59J7vZiy5eiw0K0x_JtgwKsMUu1M/s1600/232.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544040998939084274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTy2mPgHWIGAigvVppelwAhbrIv7sfS39zF9t8lutKoCO5wRHIkbQaUq1zplcVQ8225-J1FJsREAIRHoOHYfRJrbX3zqrvEg0hFQtm8sazK7yWzd59J7vZiy5eiw0K0x_JtgwKsMUu1M/s400/232.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />We all gave tributes to Mom afterwards. We were all feeling a little sweet on her tonight--she's been so strong this year since our Dad's passing. And she looks so beautiful! Did I tell you Mom, everytime I see someone in our ward who has run into you somewhere else, they always say, "And your Mom is so pretty." I know. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And your goodness is a part of that beauty. You are the most selfless, kindest woman I know. I love you.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div></div></div></div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-1775080009052584312010-11-26T13:02:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:36:18.655-08:00The Raspberry Patch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc89YYD-o_ujsav5GLHslh9umxHF-hifjbay1DtPV5xQGh0fC2cO-FeDkzCCvxzT-HOo9lLwzj9fVK0owQZxrbfcckZ1s85-Oy0Q-nV7RMgjXv-mPPFnII84v3LBeeN-jGGQAGRy1kAWo/s1600/222.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543967420986301458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc89YYD-o_ujsav5GLHslh9umxHF-hifjbay1DtPV5xQGh0fC2cO-FeDkzCCvxzT-HOo9lLwzj9fVK0owQZxrbfcckZ1s85-Oy0Q-nV7RMgjXv-mPPFnII84v3LBeeN-jGGQAGRy1kAWo/s400/222.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We had planned on going to Western Mountain Raspberries all summer to pick raspberries, but as life is always hectic, we kept putting it off. But when November came, we knew we had to go quick. We went the weekend before the anticipated heavy frost.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCK6iUG9WRiazSJQaEVYS6UfebmxBehcxxLunmhVcbOyGo8HUVNvuwMqGsIGiK8honZtBXvdO047WvHuhvylwpqsbUxMBw9geRX_1d5j4EgZZvA8393L2Bo1OmjuKvwts5agPsdomIxk/s1600/219.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543967414992551362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCK6iUG9WRiazSJQaEVYS6UfebmxBehcxxLunmhVcbOyGo8HUVNvuwMqGsIGiK8honZtBXvdO047WvHuhvylwpqsbUxMBw9geRX_1d5j4EgZZvA8393L2Bo1OmjuKvwts5agPsdomIxk/s400/219.JPG" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It wasn't easy to get there either. We had to gather buckets, find cameras, get directions, and load children. We left later than planned and the realized we forgot our directions. So we went back to the house. And still couldn't find them. And then we hit terrible traffic getting out to the freeway. It was awful traffic with terrible traffic lights, and we were all so grouchy!<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKyreq8ufnCAIuCpBZmOXCBz4W-MGd8quYZI8u7FGO_SNUli34gsKcXdK4crfJOn-UPeSJunt-vthNHGRRPN2J8uM45nuDlHs58muRak0k0Q17HP5kqEKyfSIUEFZmRKmx-Eum3a1UJE/s1600/214.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543967408779494866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKyreq8ufnCAIuCpBZmOXCBz4W-MGd8quYZI8u7FGO_SNUli34gsKcXdK4crfJOn-UPeSJunt-vthNHGRRPN2J8uM45nuDlHs58muRak0k0Q17HP5kqEKyfSIUEFZmRKmx-Eum3a1UJE/s400/214.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"> But we finally made it, and we took a deep breath of gratitude and started picking. My mom came with us. She couldn't stay long because she had other plans. Still, we picked fifteen pounds. Wow.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibf5weKEvCMsKxKiHNt1d8yx8QQ4hlkDlCGII4ibnrPkvXeliu196o_SN9N9TjIYLXhRRxylOC-lvWAdqljK-J6Ykw2BZ59DE2fFcDLdyQpr4KbBHTGdGWPlqZUTt-wHrpk-kk8glBIP8/s1600/209.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543967402700221970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibf5weKEvCMsKxKiHNt1d8yx8QQ4hlkDlCGII4ibnrPkvXeliu196o_SN9N9TjIYLXhRRxylOC-lvWAdqljK-J6Ykw2BZ59DE2fFcDLdyQpr4KbBHTGdGWPlqZUTt-wHrpk-kk8glBIP8/s400/209.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Ricky was quite a little picker too. Although I don't think any of his berries actually made it into the bucket . . .<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3IavOc2Fno-gY_3A_mDLRAYz0e4t19q0ckHa6rY9RW1R_PX0UPN7tmpik_VdpjQu-NBkiu7G4KXrCj9SC8ho25VUCxgxFrWrl57-oXNsjSxD89kGQMtxVSDJyUgW4vOqBVU1f18QZbg/s1600/208.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543967393958564498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3IavOc2Fno-gY_3A_mDLRAYz0e4t19q0ckHa6rY9RW1R_PX0UPN7tmpik_VdpjQu-NBkiu7G4KXrCj9SC8ho25VUCxgxFrWrl57-oXNsjSxD89kGQMtxVSDJyUgW4vOqBVU1f18QZbg/s400/208.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Deborah helped herself to the berries. It was her first raspberry picking (and eating) experience.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">You've got to see this video. I let Deborah loose on the raspberries and Ricky loose on Deborah. Model parenting. P.S. The picture is much clearer once you push play.<br /><br /><br /></span><div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyPSY4gFwpaCWwmocmXM64sNh3E749ZueiFs7ruVFrEA5LZMb1hSJEV-aFeCfvz1s1Colj62BPRoa-hLkE71Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-13961362972241508532010-11-26T11:22:00.000-08:002010-12-19T14:36:50.487-08:00Halloween Neighborhood Parade<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysypAAUULWCMOcrGU_s4_KLQnkjgc_J_mxqFYVCNHFS6chhzOaWybbmaro98KTmNHNcCzdhE-YHUTWNLa8OKCArMuoP3nNuYSQifGeEAeMU3MsNKdBsxnNtgl8Bf48KuAwf5kLuKWzIs/s1600/171.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543942004800183698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysypAAUULWCMOcrGU_s4_KLQnkjgc_J_mxqFYVCNHFS6chhzOaWybbmaro98KTmNHNcCzdhE-YHUTWNLa8OKCArMuoP3nNuYSQifGeEAeMU3MsNKdBsxnNtgl8Bf48KuAwf5kLuKWzIs/s400/171.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQUMaI4ZO4ovhervysx-fiTF_KH-LogkFcasDdCe7T-Ot9ZCoz0tzG6UwhpWw7M7aiKSaT_qOSRygjzhRjUoTKecDE8KYb4PZXGo-VLe2QDawrImqUqOzY_Cwftilk7eXWTLeqGK1Ak4/s1600/175.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543941995204363346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQUMaI4ZO4ovhervysx-fiTF_KH-LogkFcasDdCe7T-Ot9ZCoz0tzG6UwhpWw7M7aiKSaT_qOSRygjzhRjUoTKecDE8KYb4PZXGo-VLe2QDawrImqUqOzY_Cwftilk7eXWTLeqGK1Ak4/s400/175.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwCs9_5bntesH_JqsUf4Y-4W_-AcHhuy_z32N_2yw0yf5Nst4HTnOa3dgpvi7EKa8pEqbcTTUJ_-3yKPpYYaKAeyI54EmaEgKy8IeMbLWOBsE627VcS3I0TwLdzxeG6VzBbR6BnekjUM/s1600/167.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543941991025292242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwCs9_5bntesH_JqsUf4Y-4W_-AcHhuy_z32N_2yw0yf5Nst4HTnOa3dgpvi7EKa8pEqbcTTUJ_-3yKPpYYaKAeyI54EmaEgKy8IeMbLWOBsE627VcS3I0TwLdzxeG6VzBbR6BnekjUM/s400/167.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinlO0ljFhFbIybIxEEJSxq0xtUwPzKGp3I7A70URx1mUL8s_PcuTb448Zyjq19RF9RyJVhYuodCQ1v_0h3Wnb41nDqfGaGlFvtV3Hv-XMh9oSAlGQrVx4_1Q7_AyQczQCCLSP9q_8Qw7E/s1600/166.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543941988449822450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinlO0ljFhFbIybIxEEJSxq0xtUwPzKGp3I7A70URx1mUL8s_PcuTb448Zyjq19RF9RyJVhYuodCQ1v_0h3Wnb41nDqfGaGlFvtV3Hv-XMh9oSAlGQrVx4_1Q7_AyQczQCCLSP9q_8Qw7E/s400/166.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Our neighborhood Halloween parade hit us on a rainy day. We partied anyway. Here are some of the best pictures. </span></div></div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-34172475978959843722010-11-26T11:18:00.000-08:002010-11-26T11:22:06.445-08:00Poor RickyRicky flies under the radar around here way too much of the time.<br /><br />He's really quiet. He gets around <em>stealthily. </em>Is that a word?<br /><br />He likes to sneak up and play on our computer--he know how to get on to several games--he know how to get on to "favorites" even though his mom can't. <br /><br />Unforunately, sometimes he looks a little neglected.<br /><br />For example:Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-13101261076471695362010-11-04T21:00:00.001-07:002010-12-19T14:38:03.625-08:00Tomato Wars<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieuMVJcOdNtDKMc4pT_lCzyKwOhfXahN08gPW4n79iXcwk1i5KTqO2E4iLcq8cD_JahJWykrNjPTvPVLLtE5qp5Pdt5wYcCdnGrrvPJF9KdgiVNuRvQHzV5MuJuSqqDRXldVAZ9JP_HRQ/s1600/SAM_0837.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535911717254711026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieuMVJcOdNtDKMc4pT_lCzyKwOhfXahN08gPW4n79iXcwk1i5KTqO2E4iLcq8cD_JahJWykrNjPTvPVLLtE5qp5Pdt5wYcCdnGrrvPJF9KdgiVNuRvQHzV5MuJuSqqDRXldVAZ9JP_HRQ/s400/SAM_0837.JPG" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I was working in the garden today--taking out tomato plants, transplanting strawberry plants, and there were so many soft tomatoes on the ground. A new thought came to me: "Tomato War." I explained the idea to the boys, and they were totally on board. </span></div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ban1zd9jpEm31QdCYYL3-XQDV_tMWEDF9IJsDeIhrq4STOoAmU5S1hLo9upQyCvB7GgJKL2fus-mRI3nmADws1CiHoQRaGK29UZRv-N0m9JR8A115pMfM57svNrus0byr0c5DzuNiys/s1600/SAM_0865.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535911712355095586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ban1zd9jpEm31QdCYYL3-XQDV_tMWEDF9IJsDeIhrq4STOoAmU5S1hLo9upQyCvB7GgJKL2fus-mRI3nmADws1CiHoQRaGK29UZRv-N0m9JR8A115pMfM57svNrus0byr0c5DzuNiys/s400/SAM_0865.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfX3YdrFMjV064SNJe57Y07sNSOy4AUdNhyG88eAbrJ0TfWPwGN78gneayZjiPiGksarluASwhnSkxWVlH-aCdXrgWvs032cCzsXKaArO4wAghX3dBh5Ibsp3OuOc7TDVk6NEE05GFpE/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535911704725480386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfX3YdrFMjV064SNJe57Y07sNSOy4AUdNhyG88eAbrJ0TfWPwGN78gneayZjiPiGksarluASwhnSkxWVlH-aCdXrgWvs032cCzsXKaArO4wAghX3dBh5Ibsp3OuOc7TDVk6NEE05GFpE/s400/SAM_0841.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />They ran around the neighborhood to gather all their friends. Although no one had ever been in a tomato war, they seemed to catch on right away.<br /><br /></span><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWID5goXEJvx2jnOu5fft9Nwocb-BGnEjLnnzmI7rb8RCTOkMV95qoYuOTx3ApTLZaGv5P2a9Dhyphenhyphenh2Rmm0aWBxecuER-rB7wiJcBDFyRa4Jj-pBWB7Eli6ukxZmhHHumWLTWpoKSqVhM/s1600/SAM_0873.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535911701868385778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWID5goXEJvx2jnOu5fft9Nwocb-BGnEjLnnzmI7rb8RCTOkMV95qoYuOTx3ApTLZaGv5P2a9Dhyphenhyphenh2Rmm0aWBxecuER-rB7wiJcBDFyRa4Jj-pBWB7Eli6ukxZmhHHumWLTWpoKSqVhM/s400/SAM_0873.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br />Left brain piped in: Someone could get hurt. Maybe somebody will get an eye poked out.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Right brain: No way. Tomatoes are too big. Go to sleep and don't get up until this is over. You'll worry yourself sick. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Somebody did get hurt. A little. I bribed him with a carmel apple. Hopefully he won't tell his mother. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Ricky was a little wiped out after all the running around. This is him at dinner.<br /><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVurDqZPaYZMwiHXRPzihcmK54pBImO2NYUQzO8kblmYr152xqDgC5plL8Jm4EAMOgYIBJdolzSM8IIk-srN0cm3LdGSuhX0jTMp_tsTBcLIYJsTi7mCTuxSWVBSL9DY-L4L19AaoGgk/s1600/SAM_0874.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535911697251860434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVurDqZPaYZMwiHXRPzihcmK54pBImO2NYUQzO8kblmYr152xqDgC5plL8Jm4EAMOgYIBJdolzSM8IIk-srN0cm3LdGSuhX0jTMp_tsTBcLIYJsTi7mCTuxSWVBSL9DY-L4L19AaoGgk/s400/SAM_0874.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div></div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-46989810282121845322010-11-04T20:54:00.000-07:002010-12-19T14:38:49.410-08:00Pumpkin Carving<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHh85t6NNV8vYPqd7VFhPGvkaV7_5JfrjBUQKg_RWMJ5eOjMLwPpFFUZa92Epa5cSr8lsYFr4FNBWJo5l5QTzRXrjid_PAyu8ycqxKKNIw6j5SQJ1Hi3M_BTX3gbJAbC05p_GXnkw8xg/s1600/SAM_0818.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535909605185462530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHh85t6NNV8vYPqd7VFhPGvkaV7_5JfrjBUQKg_RWMJ5eOjMLwPpFFUZa92Epa5cSr8lsYFr4FNBWJo5l5QTzRXrjid_PAyu8ycqxKKNIw6j5SQJ1Hi3M_BTX3gbJAbC05p_GXnkw8xg/s400/SAM_0818.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We all carved pumpkins finally--on October 29, which is actually kind of early for our family. Here is Davy, army dude, with his best friend Issac.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybsda-4AfNrHlGKDQ66CYotzCKPuXDN6AcSdh-IPTq7EzKGk5UKbrmGuCgHQQW7CY9y0MTnCp1qwF0eGbcnz9nZ0JS_s1XMQh9GY_Goc1p8KdgNr7eng88IFle6-bchlnhTZXBiGmkYc/s1600/SAM_0805.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535909594954147602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybsda-4AfNrHlGKDQ66CYotzCKPuXDN6AcSdh-IPTq7EzKGk5UKbrmGuCgHQQW7CY9y0MTnCp1qwF0eGbcnz9nZ0JS_s1XMQh9GY_Goc1p8KdgNr7eng88IFle6-bchlnhTZXBiGmkYc/s400/SAM_0805.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><div></div></div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-11388887749882074192010-10-27T17:45:00.000-07:002010-10-27T18:05:14.376-07:00So this morning the left side of my brain took over. "What were you thinking yesterday?!! Did you think you were Martha Stewart? Obviously, you are not! Just look at this mess!" (My mom had cleaned up, but after she left, I had gotten a little carried away with the herbs.)<br /><br />My creative right brain was offended and went into hiding. I became efficient and cranky.<br /><br />I made a list of 24 things I needed to do, and everytime I crossed something off, I remembered another chore. Poor Davy was sick but that was no excuse. He was twenty assignments behind in school (my right brain had been in charge a little too long) and so we were on a strict regimen. Fifteen minutes work. Fifteen minutes break. The kitchen timer helped me stay on track. Ricky was put on the same potty training schedule.<br /><br />At 3:30, my body yelled at both sides of my brain and said, "Who do you think I am? Wonder Woman? I'm going to take a nap." So I did.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYH34ypuUxswjtLk7YdbiMUHMM7549GOjfO3bktVxiTZ30mWXvebLEvKq8UrYqn253VTJRLqMAlaIhmDxy-MZcU5qnruxJn6nTGxPaL5Bh_Av9ZNZs1Y59nYFozq4yUyWR3hCa_KvbzHc/s1600/Davy+in+the+Garden+033.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532892695405207506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYH34ypuUxswjtLk7YdbiMUHMM7549GOjfO3bktVxiTZ30mWXvebLEvKq8UrYqn253VTJRLqMAlaIhmDxy-MZcU5qnruxJn6nTGxPaL5Bh_Av9ZNZs1Y59nYFozq4yUyWR3hCa_KvbzHc/s400/Davy+in+the+Garden+033.JPG" /></a><br />And then my body told me that I need to go outside to get some fresh air. Davy helped me plant some violas. He's a really good planter. He brought warm water to me from the kitchen sink. He spaded. He pulled out the flowers. He covered them with dirt. He cut back my daisies. Thank you Davy. I'm sorry I was cranky.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8o0GHoDOOL_SEzJwGUG4_penxbQ3J5pNP7lSVVzYG-9WwxbSzvT7kAK-KhLAsIsK7WACLupO1d-1KfFemsXs2GNmd7cM9b4UTtRkzn0VG276j-YmTFzRLZebJVaPZnsZaabtP9jFcuds/s1600/Davy+in+the+Garden+031.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532892669495016290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8o0GHoDOOL_SEzJwGUG4_penxbQ3J5pNP7lSVVzYG-9WwxbSzvT7kAK-KhLAsIsK7WACLupO1d-1KfFemsXs2GNmd7cM9b4UTtRkzn0VG276j-YmTFzRLZebJVaPZnsZaabtP9jFcuds/s400/Davy+in+the+Garden+031.JPG" /></a><br />Deborah helped too by staying quietly in her tree swing while we worked. Then she cried. Her hands were cold. I took her in, and gave her to Eli, and then we finished the job. I was proud. </div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-10535094852689233422010-10-25T20:42:00.001-07:002010-11-04T21:00:16.142-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihWruoft5dt5cEZ0iZnRsKkCoyARHiSXypHsod94brBSOrRoXcgUzASDryD3K3koj6ogpSSwGmm9iyIo1ozTuby9UAHaN-TXgfVu4G36DxCAZ_cU7pHdrOLxar4GS2QtKmDrHHhMi9ygE/s1600/SAM_0755.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535910400565729154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihWruoft5dt5cEZ0iZnRsKkCoyARHiSXypHsod94brBSOrRoXcgUzASDryD3K3koj6ogpSSwGmm9iyIo1ozTuby9UAHaN-TXgfVu4G36DxCAZ_cU7pHdrOLxar4GS2QtKmDrHHhMi9ygE/s400/SAM_0755.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Some days are just horrible, no-good, very bad days. I didn't even anticipate this one, but it started with a very poor night's sleep and a slow morning.<br /><br />I really felt awful, the cold still lingering, but my laundry didn't understand at all. The pile stood just as high. I did a lot of laundry and cleaned out the fridge which can ruin even a good day. I had to. The kitchen was starting to stink. I pulled out a bag in the produce drawer that contained black liquid. I'm not kidding.<br /><br />But the worst part was this afternoon when Adam came by. He's a sweet nine year old boy who wanted to play with Eli. "Can we practice geography?" he asked me. (I told him we could study for the geography bee together).<br /><br />"I can't right now," I said--"Why don't you guys play basketball?" A few minutes later, I heard Adam cry. He was bitten in the face by my mother's dog, Red. We've been watching Red for the four weeks while my mom has tried to buy a home up here.<br /><br />He's been a loyal dog to us, but a little confused in the move. Red attacked Adam when he went to pet him.<br /><br />I love Adam. And I love Red. And I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">sooooo</span> wish that this hadn't happened. I pray that Adam will heal quickly and not scar (he had to have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">stiches</span>). I have been so worried about him tonight. Heart sick. I pray for my mother--who will lose Red. Red is already at the animal shelter. God Bless You Red. And God Bless You Adam.</div>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6186179125930598978.post-32204450363767782902010-10-23T16:48:00.001-07:002010-10-25T17:01:34.722-07:00Continuing with the French Theme<ol><li><p align="left"> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirU1MUtKo1sZJRaamyH9TWNv3_2GQQIXdp7iPiIAtvRMEp0LN-bfesUvCz4JqaPbjFOZmOVyafUp5aOHQLOP3w04M0fVPC06AiDd5Sq_cmzSD227fFM6yEow_mp5njbMD058Iy-F_HxUM/s1600/008.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532137678766645778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirU1MUtKo1sZJRaamyH9TWNv3_2GQQIXdp7iPiIAtvRMEp0LN-bfesUvCz4JqaPbjFOZmOVyafUp5aOHQLOP3w04M0fVPC06AiDd5Sq_cmzSD227fFM6yEow_mp5njbMD058Iy-F_HxUM/s400/008.JPG" /></a><br />Last night, Dave was sweet enough to rent a very bad romantic comedy, (my favorite) and make me some kettle corn. I curled up on our couch with him and grabbed some Skittles when Ricky (3) showed up. I had forgotten about him.<br /><br />He showed signs of neglect. Runny nose, sagging pants, a dirty shirt. "Has anybody fed him dinner?" I asked. No. Apparently, that is my job. "Will someone get him some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ramen</span> noodles?" Eli fed him and then Ricky rejoined us. We pretended he wasn't there for a while, but his sticky fingers kept getting into our popcorn.<br /><br />I finally gave up and got him ready for bed. Poor guy. My cold has kind of thrown me off this week with the whole schedule thing and so tonight I decided to make French Onion soup. That should restore some order and confidence around here.<br /><br />I stumbled on the recipe when I was reading a delightful book called Frugal Luxuries for the Seasons by Tracey McBride. It makes a great gift. I was reading it while waiting for my vehicle inspection, which sadly failed, as it does every year now. More repairs. Sigh.<br /><br />So while Dave replaces our brake pads, I cut up onions. The soup smells delicious in our <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">crock pot</span> so I thought I would share the recipe (with my adjustments).<br /><br />Debbie's French <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Onion</span> Soup<br /><br />6-8 cups of onions<br />2 TBS. of sugar<br />4 TBS. of flour<br />3/4 cup <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Martinelli's</span> cranberry and apple drink (Expiration Date March 09.) Yes, it's all I had on hand, and yes, it has a kick. Any kind of juice should work.<br />2 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">qts</span>. chicken broth-use either canned or the Better than Broth base you get at Costco<br />2 cups of beef broth<br /><br />Place sliced onions in the microwave for six-seven minutes. Then brown them, adding sugar, flour, and the drink. When they are golden brown, dump them in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">crock pot</span> and add the broth. Cook on low if you've got time, and high if you don't.<br /><br />Serve in bowls and put on a slice of S<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">wiss</span> cheese on top. Great with sourdough or garlic bread.<br /><br />Miss Tracey McBride said it a lot better, but I didn't want to copy her word for word. I'm bordering on some kind of copyright law as it is. But if you buy her book, it will make everything <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></li></ol>Suehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15815671181534018880noreply@blogger.com0