tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33548966333579265512024-03-12T19:01:44.707-05:00The Mosquitoes BuzzJust the ordinary and extraordinary ongoings of a blessed person's everyday life.Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.comBlogger293125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-75918863781369783902017-08-16T00:50:00.002-05:002022-11-30T13:14:59.792-06:00Farewell to my First HeroI must say that I completely anticipated that the previous post (about my mom) would be my last post before I was to get this 'blog' put into book form. At that time, I had decided to come back to the blog and finish the 'book' off with a post about my mom since she, too, has a bit of a penchant for writing :-).<br />
And, as life does, way led onto way & I did not get around to getting this blog published at that time.<br />
Then... the whirlwind came... and that's what it felt like... a blur looking back now.<br />
My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer. <br />
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<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></h1>
<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">This whirlwind began when my folks came over on July 15th, 2016. It was four days before our daughter's 10th birthday. I knew something was not right when my folks arrived. My dad's
affect was <i>flat</i>. I had seen him a month prior and, then, 2 weeks before.</span></h1>
<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">At
the month prior, he was quiet. But I passed it off as he had been to the
internment burial of his brother that passed a half a year before... he was not close
with him, but nevertheless, I thought some emotions had been stirred, so I passed it
off as such.</span></h1>
<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">Then,</span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;"> two weeks later, I saw him when we went to pick up my son
who had been visiting my folks/his grandparents. My dad had fallen while taking my son down
their back wooded, somewhat steep yard that went down to a ravine. I
thought the fall had him shaken (no, the fall was because of the brain cancer) and again passed off his behavior. Being a licensed psychotherapist, I like to think I pay a little more attention to behavior than your average person. Yet, at the time, these reasons looked reasonable for how he was acting.</span></h1>
<br />
<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">Anyway, when my folks came for our daughter's
birthday, it was obvious... he was flat, didn't spontaneously talk (which h</span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">e normally would as he had his opinions), had difficulty getting
up from our recliner, and had difficulty getting his night shorts
on (my mom told me).</span></h1>
<h1 style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">My husband and he were slated to go to Creede that next week... my
dad was looking forward to it (from what he said, but couldn't tell
emotion-wise). I thought that maybe my dad had had a stroke, but looking back, there were no single sided hindrances. My husband told him that he thinks he should get checked
out before they leave as my dad admitted being unsteady. The next morning, we convinced him to let
my husband take them to the ER... it went all downhill from there: CT scan,
hospital referred him to downtown Houston. My dad had brain surgery three days later, on our daughter's 10th birthday. Brain
surgery was to see if they could remove part of the 'tumor' and diagnose. They couldn't
remove any tumor to speak of, but enough to diagnose.</span></h1>
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My dad died six months later on January 16th, 2017, four days after our son's 7th birthday.<br />
<br /></div>
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<br />
Those six months were, like I said, <i>a blur</i> to say the least. A <u>lot</u> happened and was going on with our family during that time;<br />
<ul>
<li>my husband had been out of work (during the time of the "oil business" employment bust)</li>
<li>our daughter got & began raising several 4H turkeys</li>
<li>school started for both our children; 1st and 5th grade</li>
<li>our dog had been bred, got ultrasound, showing she didn't take (a blessing at the time)</li>
<li>my mom had to have knee replacement surgery</li>
<li>my husband had been in severe pain with his back (the worst he's <i>ever </i>experienced) and had to have back surgery</li>
<li>my mom had to stay at a rehab home to get daily physical therapy for her knee</li>
<li>because the first back surgery didn't get the job done, my husband had to have a <i>second</i> back surgery three weeks later, to the day</li>
<li>my mom's birthday</li>
<li>Thanksgiving (we enjoyed a 4H turkey)</li>
<li>my husband, within 2-3 weeks of back surgery, started a new job</li>
<li>our daughter had surgery to have her tonsils out</li>
<li>my husband had to go out of the country</li>
<li>we had our dog surgically bred again and she became pregnant</li>
<li>our ceiling showed water damage & our chimney leaked resulting in a new roof in January</li>
<li>Christmas</li>
<li>my husband's birthday</li>
<li>New Year's Eve</li>
<li>our insurance coverages for home, both autos <em>and</em> Colorado <i>all </i>went up and had to be reassessed/changed</li>
<li>our son's birthday</li>
<li>forget all of the other bills, household chores, appointments for school & other, grocery shopping, regular daily life routines, etc. that happen...</li>
</ul>
I list all of this because ... this time seems... lost.. lost in a sense like it wasn't lived purposefully, like I missed planning it the way it was <i>supposed </i>to be (ha)... I was just along for the ride... as all of this happened WHILE my dad was sick. It all happened <em>during</em> the trips up to my folks, the myriad of phones calls, trying to schedule nursing care so he could remain home.<br />
It was an absolute blur and, looking back, it was ... I will say (and not for dramatic purposes)... it was surreal.<br />
<br />
My dad was taken care of, in his home, mostly by my mom with the help of care givers. He died in his home, the way<i> it was</i> supposed to be. <br />
<br />
I remember it clearly. My dad's bed was in the living room. My mom was asleep on the couch. My brother was doing work at the kitchen table. I was siting on the couch. I had been sitting there for some time. And I heard it, my dad's breathing changed. <i>I knew.</i> I was glad. And I sat there for a bit... to make sure .. and to take it in by myself .. before I woke my mom.<br />
He died in his home... as he should have.<br />
<br />
The following is what I wrote, said and had played at my dad's funeral:<br />
<br />
<br />
*************************<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So I have written this multiple times
in my head… and my thoughts are always scattered about with what I would like
to say to you all about my dad;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">I thought about talking about…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Stories…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">What kind of
person my dad was…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Lessons he taught
..or lived by…</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">The trouble is, there’s a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">lifetime</i> of things I could tell
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hence, my quagmire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So, I am stuck with picking a few or so…
and I’ll still probably talk too long<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">--so a pre-emptive ‘I’m sorry’ :-~ as this
may be disjointed and not the most cohesive thing you hear today.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Speaking of talking &
communication, as many of you know, my dad was very laconic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could take a situation and distill it down
to its essential elements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">style</i> of his was a major factor in
contributing to our young (then) family’s well being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">You may or may not know that my dad
came from an alcoholic family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suffice
to say that his dad was a mean drunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
top it off, my mom, as well came from an alcoholic family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So, imagine… married 18 &
21 y/olds -both from dysfunctional families having a go at it… they were warned
by more than one that they wouldn’t make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, they did and my hat’s been off to them for a long time because of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I
have to say the greatest gift my dad gave me was treating my mom with dignity
and respect </i>–despite some rough times, he remained calm and acted as an emotional
distillery, if you will, to get to the essentials and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">solve & resolve</i> things as we grew as a family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So, being laconic, distilling
things down to their essential elements… Very fitting for our family and a very
fitting way for being a Chem—E. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">I always kind of wondered what
my dad did… it was somewhat mysterious as he didn’t talk a whole lot about
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, I remember hearing names… some
of which are here today, but I never really knew exactly what he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I got older, he would talk more… or maybe
I just listened more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember it was
a big deal (when I was older) that I got to go to his office, I saw certain
pictures and such.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saw a picture of
Colorado…</span><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #010096; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Side note here</span></b><span style="color: #010096; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for
those of you that don’t know, practically every summer growing up, our family
went to Colorado.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would camp… yes in
a TENT in Colorado… Colorado can have temps in the morning in the 30s during
summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can get on the shady side of
a mountain and you could be shivering… and if you’re riding motorcycles, then
you have a wind chill on top of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do
remember riding in front of my dad on his seat right up by the tank thinking I
was going to turn into an ice cube.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many
times, we rode and camped with long time family friends;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jerry and Peggy Davis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all had bikes (except me);<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my dad, Jerry, Miss Peg, my brother and mom
rode their own bikes… yes, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my mom</i>
rode a motorcycle --up in the mountains –along side sheer drop offs (I shudder
to think of that now).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So, back to my dad’s office;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when I got to go, I saw pictures of Colorado,
family and… I saw an essay that he had prominently displayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was called “The Trip is the
Destination”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was, for a him, a
theme, if you will, to live by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he
did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">While my dad was a “planner” ..oh, boy,
was he.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No stone unturned in going
forward, no hasty decisions… yet, at the same time, I do not find that his
‘planning’ ruled him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He, indeed, seemed
to enjoy the trip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So I would like to share the
essay that he has had displayed in his office, since I was a kid, up
until….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it still sits displayed, in his
office, at home:</span><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;"></span></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">The Trip is the Destination<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~from The Station by Robert J. Hastings<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">(read The Trip….)</span></b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see
ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train.
Out the windows we bring in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of
children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of
smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of
flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and
village halls.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a
certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be
playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come
true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a complete jigsaw
puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for
loitering—waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">"When we reach the station, that will be it!", we
cry. "When I’m 18." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"When
I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!" <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"When
I put the last kid through college." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"When I have paid off the mortgage!"
"When I get a promotion." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"When
I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one
place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The
station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">"Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially
when coupled with Psalm 118:24: "This is the day which the Lord hath made;
we will rejoice and be glad in it." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men
mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear
are twin thieves who rob us of today.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead,
climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more
rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go
along. The station will come soon enough.</span> </div>
..............................................................................<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">And it did come soon enough… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it came too soon</i>… that part bothers me
because my son and daughter won't get to be around my dad.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #00008f; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Sorry… another Side Note:</span></b><span style="color: #00008f; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>this
might come as a surprise… and sound ..?? ..risqué… but, my dad had another
child other than my brother & me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
had another son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Now, before I go on, please know that BY NO MEANS did this other son
& my dad’s relationship with him diminish the love he had for his own son</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The heart simply can always hold/take on/have
room for more love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This other son is my
husband… who never had a wonderful father-figure… until my dad, he found that
in him.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Kint and my dad worked on many
projects together over the 29+ years <s>they’ve known</s> they knew each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dad designed and had a cabin built in
Creede CO (camping got to be too cold)… well, on our honeymoon, they both and
others -<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">no contractors</i>- built the
garage to that cabin... over the years many projects were done together: our
property’s fence, barn, shop, my dad’s shed, 2 horse sheds, a utility building,
a covered porch on the Colorado cabin… collecting firewood in the mountains, they
cleared trees behind my dad’s house, worked on cars together… the last project
they did together was adding an eve on the back of our barn a couple of months before
my dad was diagnosed (he was diagnosed in July). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">As my husband, Kint, put
it;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In working/doing projects with my
dad… Kint would dive in head first, while my dad would <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wade in</i> slowly… one sped the other up so to speak, while the other
slowed the other down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It just worked.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So, to our kids, my dad
offered a balance to that of their own dad. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">My dad enjoyed building
things, was very hands-on for being so abstract chemical theory oriented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our house -growing up always <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always</i> was maintained in tip-top shape…
if something squeaked, was out of kilter (even a tad) …. or if there was
something that just didn’t work the best he thought it could, he would fix it
or improve upon it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grass did not grow
with things that needed to be done around the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">In that vein, fixing things around the
house… is just one of the gifts my dad gave to me… Others were;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">he was a man’s
man, so what did I do… married a man that could fix things b/c that’ s what men
do… and catch bugs …and get rid of dead gophers, rabbits, birds, lizards and
snakes that the cat leaves for us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">He also taught me
to speak my mind –no, not directly, but from his example I’m sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">To ask questions…
which I hear I can do in excess at times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Not to worry what
others think,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Be honest… my mom
will tell you that I learned that one “to a fault”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">AND so many
others, but I cannot leave out… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Animals</i>!!
–We had animals!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to think some kids
don’t… I cannot imagine a life with no animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Dogs: we always had a dog, & a cat …and then it happened… a horse!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had always wanted a horse.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">You see, my dad had horses growing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and his mother would go to play-days
together riding the different events; pole bending, flag race (which was a
favorite of my dad’s). His mom would sew special matching outfits/shirts for
both of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Just a few months before my dad was sick … my daughter was staying over at my folks place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She came home telling me of “grandpa getting
teary”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went on to tell of how he
was telling her a story of his early days with his mom and him riding horses
and going to play days and how his mom sewed intricate outfits and all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was telling Emma, my daughter, about a
particular time; regaling his sewn shirt & how he won several speed events
on this real fast horse …and he got teary remembering those special times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">My dad wasn’t much of a story teller… I guess it wouldn’t
have been my dad if he was, but I would have liked to have heard more stories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Lastly, my
dad had many music artists he liked; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buddy Holly, John Denver, Anne Murray, The
Righteous Brothers, Reba McEntire, & even Celine Dion, but driving to
Colorado every summer… we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always</i>
heard Neil Diamond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can sing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">every</i> word of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">every</i> song from Neil Diamond’s Hot August Night Album.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: #000092; font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">Side Note:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I absolutely love Neil Diamond to this day… in fact, my son’s teachers
have heard him sing the chorus to “Cherry Cherry” at his little Christian
school- <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thank goodness</i> he didn’t know
the actual words to the chorus and it was sung in gibberish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">So, while this
song coming up is dedicated to another man… it could just as easily be
dedicated to my dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">To end, if I had to be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">super</i> laconic (ha!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in describing my dad… and had to pick only <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">one word</i>, it would be:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "palatino"; font-size: 14pt;">Integrity</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "palatino"; mso-bidi-font-family: URWPalladioL-Roma; mso-bidi-font-size: 48.0pt;">………………………………….....................</span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "palatino"; font-size: 14pt;">Enjoy the trip.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino"; font-size: 10pt;">(Reba McEntire video song:
'Just Like Them Horses')</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">She
held him close, then she kissed his face</span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
He said it just has to be this way</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Yours is the heart I'll always keep</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
I'm not gone even if I leave</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
If you love me, don't you be afraid</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
To look in my eyes and open up the gate</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Then watch me ride beneath a newborn sun</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Just like them horses</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
When it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
He said, Chockie Mountain is calling me</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Gonna take a walk up where I can sing</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Turn and face that western wind</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Oh, and I'll be home again</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
If you love me, don't you be afraid</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
To look in my eyes and open up the gate</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Then watch me ride beneath a newborn sun</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Just like them horses</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
When it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Oh, just like them horses</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
She held his hand, he took one last breath</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Then she walked out to the front porch step</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Stared at the sky, tears on her face</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
And she swore she could hear him say</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
If you love me, don't you be afraid</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
To look in my eyes and open up the gate</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Then watch me ride beneath a newborn sun</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Just like them horses</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
When it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Just like them horses</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
When it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
When it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
When it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Now it's time to run</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span> </div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Just like them horses, ooh</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Just like them horses</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">
Oh, now it's time to run...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond";"></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond";"></span>
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , "serif";"><o:p><br />
*************************</o:p><br />
Thanks dad, for helping me finish my little ditty of a 'book'. May Kint & our kids (and their kids?) know more about their family because of it.<br />
Love, Julie</span><br />
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Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-34730946288269444082016-05-08T11:08:00.003-05:002016-05-08T20:08:51.757-05:00A Re-Dedication to the Woman in My Life that Showed me Love Unfettered<div align="left">
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I haven't been on this blog for ?? eons as Life has been/is happening instead (as it should be). I'm not a 'facebooker' for the same reason. Albeit, I have an account so I can look at my daughter's class's Facebook page from school. In that way, I do 'look around' sometimes... and then find, entirely <em>too</em> much time has escaped me :-~ ...hence my reason for not being a real facebooker.</div>
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Much has happened in Life since my last posting. This coming July, my children are coming on 10 and 6 1/2. Also, right before Christmas, my husband lost his job of almost 15 years. He was laid off -and yes, he was in Oil & Gas. Had a <em>good</em> job. But, it wasn't just the economy... new higher up from another company came in and, subsequently, starting infiltrating with his own (husband's boss was told to retire 1 month before my husband was laid off) ...<em>ANYway</em>, now is mostly being told that he's 'overqualified'. He has 10 patents to his name, managed the entire engineering group in Houston (for an international co.), and became their Global Eng. trainer.<br />
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So many changes ... including a 'Mom' change... no, I didn't get a new mom. But, she.. my mom, had a change... no, she'd already done the menopause thing... not that change, she had a 'health' change in that she was diagnosed with PF- 'Pulmonary Fibrosis' last Novemeber. It's a terminal, degenerative lung disease that progressively disables the lungs from being able to transfer oxygen to the bloodstream. She coughs a lot and is on oxygen.... basically, it sucks. We don't know how long she has, but suffice to say, she won't be around for many of my kids' milestones (graduation, getting married, etc.)... maybe she'll make my daughter starting her period :-~ ... is that a 'milestone'?? <br />
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So I didn't get my mom any 'thing' for Mother's Day.... shoot, she's giving things away. But, I figured I'd re-dedicate a post to her from my blog. Seeing as I'm planning to get the blog put into book form sometime, I figured I'd end it on a word on mom... since that's where the writing gene came from and all. Not so incidentally, my mom just published a book that she's been working on for decades, literally. She was a Hospice Nurse and it is a book of inspirational stories about her patients. It is called "Chapters of Goodbye" by Sandra Cooper Allan. No, it's not on Amazon, but if someone was interested, they might be able to find her through Facebook since she is on there.<br />
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Where to go from here? ...just am hoping for as many memories as possible to be made.<br />
Thanks mom, for being who you are and bestowing that unconditional love upon me.<br />
L,J<br />
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A re-dedication to my mom: <br />
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<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">Happy Mom's Day, Mom</span></strong></div>
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My mom had it rough growing up.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 85%;">This is my mom when I was not quite 3 y/o.</span> </div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhireNen40HHJpeA-o_4y4Gme78xH7b_5oqMJE-qC9IoHcNBKyDL5Ob70_m9_h0wTu57GXdA8wvQQJEDJiVUnIUoe1Vyj2hsqeF_d-Gbkh0mBfpKitudcmDy1ASTwpg_uhGswSbn_m3AvY/s1600-h/mom,+P+J.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334026824633394130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhireNen40HHJpeA-o_4y4Gme78xH7b_5oqMJE-qC9IoHcNBKyDL5Ob70_m9_h0wTu57GXdA8wvQQJEDJiVUnIUoe1Vyj2hsqeF_d-Gbkh0mBfpKitudcmDy1ASTwpg_uhGswSbn_m3AvY/s400/mom,+P+J.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 284px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>I'm sure there are those out there that had it rougher. But, let me tell you, there are SO many that can't imagine how she had it. And be glad for that if you, like me, are in that large group.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 85%;">The early days- my mom is 27 y/o here (my older brother and I were 6 & 4 at the time).</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaLzow1_bu2r3GVIaKjHR_KXK0JjHss3L5Kabifd2Sv0r1CPOf5MER9Wo2h87iDkGmVcuOaHI-DaqQ7Cu6bhdv9lskFjDvarwYCYQIs1ljzWS2DyHu3ihle7M2KjCk5FNEkPuNawLz40/s1600-h/1973_6_a16x.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334026812527679154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaLzow1_bu2r3GVIaKjHR_KXK0JjHss3L5Kabifd2Sv0r1CPOf5MER9Wo2h87iDkGmVcuOaHI-DaqQ7Cu6bhdv9lskFjDvarwYCYQIs1ljzWS2DyHu3ihle7M2KjCk5FNEkPuNawLz40/s400/1973_6_a16x.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 268px;" /></a>I've heard tidbits over time... gees, for that matter, the bare facts are enough to make me shrivel up and want to go hide: one brother five years older, then she (my mom) arrived into the world, then another brother 3 years younger arrived. Just three months after the younger brother was born, the already absent father left and her parents divorced. Mix this with her mother being an alcoholic and emotionally/mentally unstable. A year or two later, add a remarriage of the alcoholic unstable mother to 'God Knows What' that abused my mom (and her mother). Around the time my mom was 5, she began to live with her blind grandmother (since the step dad was abusive and an alcoholic). BUT, they lived right next to each other in like a duplex that sat on top of one another... so only a stair-way separated them. Subsequently, at my mom's age of 7 or 8, this 'step dad' hung himself. Shortly afterwards, my mom went back to live with her mother.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 85%;">Just about every summer, as I was growing up, we went to Colorado. We camped and often rode motorcycles.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2Xy_5BahOGRCJbSa4bAcBuhv59spTj3c9cSAwbHBdZPRURmpIyXLuBF8xETsnZa_l4SwQGKosOb8I-M0_DGMTtKuwhEvhlI63LXn52cOhT3r0hUK6SfRGHC76ZZ9ASO2axsfmk-aTqI/s1600-h/1975_08_b28x.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334026816515848498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2Xy_5BahOGRCJbSa4bAcBuhv59spTj3c9cSAwbHBdZPRURmpIyXLuBF8xETsnZa_l4SwQGKosOb8I-M0_DGMTtKuwhEvhlI63LXn52cOhT3r0hUK6SfRGHC76ZZ9ASO2axsfmk-aTqI/s400/1975_08_b28x.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 270px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>So, from the time my mom was 5 years old, she *<em>living with her blind grandmother</em>* had to do household chores that I just can't see a 5 year old doing; fixing meals, dishes, <em>ironing</em>, etc... <em>at five years old</em>. Yes, it was by far the better choice than living with her mother and the abusive husband. But... <em>gees</em>... being <em>so</em> responsible at five... for that matter 8 years old... <em>hard to fathom</em>.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 85%;">My mom on the Durango/Silverton Train in Colorado.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8O9kSvteus0RbF7XMb_vG-_CwXSGWoBPGJTkk9ZmihtdyUvDJhRja2k4qoKH4d4ZsJG600uwYySVUu8eKn_-LwHYf5rywc1F6nKgc5XmORzXbj3FBJLaU_iDrXL5fNzgJhJ9AMdR6axA/s1600-h/1975_08_c6x.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334026808507359410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8O9kSvteus0RbF7XMb_vG-_CwXSGWoBPGJTkk9ZmihtdyUvDJhRja2k4qoKH4d4ZsJG600uwYySVUu8eKn_-LwHYf5rywc1F6nKgc5XmORzXbj3FBJLaU_iDrXL5fNzgJhJ9AMdR6axA/s400/1975_08_c6x.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 269px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-family: "lucida grande";">It's no wonder my mom became a nurse. You know, research shows that 80+ % of nurses come from alcoholic/abusive families ...interesting, they couldn't "fix it" when they were young, so they go into a field that tries to "fix" and becomes the bearer of the brunt of things... cause that's what nurses do.</span> <span style="font-family: "lucida grande";"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "lucida grande";">POINT IS... my mom had it rough ...and, I assure you, this is only a sweet summary. My mom forgave her mother before she passed- told in my mom's words <a href="http://itsnevertoolateforahappychildhood.blogspot.com/2009/05/mirror-mirror-on-wall_03.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">HERE</span></a>. What a forgiving woman my mom is... she saw her mother for the wounded child <em>she</em> was.</span></div>
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Another thing, she (my mom) didn't repeat the cycle by getting with an abusive man. My dad has never laid a hand on my mom, nor has he ever been verbally abusive (talk about beating the odds ... kudos to my dad on this as well!). They've been married now for almost 44 years.<br />
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You know, I asked my mom what she was okay with me 'sharing'... her response was just to do what I thought was okay. I then asked myself what my aim <em>was</em> after all. After much consternation, the two thoughts that came to mind were:</div>
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<li>First, when one sees things about themselves in writing, somehow it's more real... it's like it holds more credence... if this makes sense. <em>In that regard</em>, it is my hope that maybe my mom can appreciate herself more and be more forgiving of herself in how she raised her children. She, after all, did a remarkable job.</li>
<li>Second, who knows if her (my mom's) children's children (and theirs?) will someday read this. With technology and all (these blogs can be saved), it's like a history of sorts. I know <em>I</em> appreciate stories of my family's hardships. <em>Makes one appreciate their own lot better</em>.</li>
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Those are my reasons for 'sharing'.</div>
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Before I started typing the above, I had saved a post with a few short poems and sayings to post on Mom's Day. The text is still below. Though this post is lengthy, I'll go ahead and leave it... because the poets say it better than I can and I want my mom to hear it. Plus, the home video is kind of ? ... ? neat.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida grande";"></span><span style="color: #cc0000;">******************previously typed below*******************</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "lucida grande";">I found so much good stuff searching for the *ultimate* Mom's Day poem. Alas, no <em>one</em> poem can summarize what a Mom is, does, gives, transmits, translates ....etc, etc... </span><span style="font-family: "lucida grande";">So many of them connotate so many different things. I figure a sundry of things just might touch <em>the tip</em> of the proverbial iceberg.</span><br />
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I use the term, "Mom", because that is what I call my dear one. For me, the term 'Mother' was not the name/word of choice. We all have symbolic meanings attached to things and, for me, that term isn't warm and fuzzy (<span style="font-size: 85%;">perhaps it's because I remember my mom calling her alcoholic mom, "<em>Mothhher"</em></span>). Regardless, for me, it doesn't convey my feeling... so "Mom" it is. Consequently, since I was young, I have always put a line through the word 'Mother' on cards and whatnot and rewritten "Mom" over it.<br />
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On the poems below, I have included the authors names whenever I knew them. Please send a comment if you happen to know the author of any poem whose author is listed as unknown. And don't forget to turn you speakers on for the video.</div>
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<strong><span style="color: #006600;">************************************************</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="color: #990000;">Untitled</span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">There are times when only a Mother's love<br />Can share the joy we feel.<br />When something we've dreamed about<br />Quite suddenly is real.<br /><br />There are times when only a Mother's faith<br />Can help us on life's way<br />And inspire in us the confidence<br />We need from day to day.<br /><br />For a Mother's heart and a Mother's faith<br />And a Mother's steadfast love<br />Were fashioned by the Angels<br />And sent from God above.<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: 85%;">~Author Unknown</span></span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: #006600;">Mother o' Mine</span></strong><br />
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<span style="color: #006600;">If I were hanged on the highest hill,</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">I know whose love would follow me still,</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">If I were drowned in the deepest sea,</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">I know whose tears would come down to me,</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">If I were damned of body and soul,</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">I know whose prayers would make me whole,</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;">Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!</span><br />
<span style="color: #006600; font-size: 85%;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #006600;"><span style="font-size: 85%;">~Rudyard Kipling</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Wonderful Mother</strong><br /><br />God made a wonderful mother,<br />A mother who never grows old;<br />He made her smile of the sunshine,<br />And He moulded her heart of pure gold;<br />In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,<br />In her cheeks fair roses you see;<br />God made a wonderful mother,<br />And He gave that dear mother to me.<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%;">~Pat O'Reilly</span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: #006600;">To My Mother</span></strong></div>
<span style="color: #006600;">You too, my mother, read my rhymes<br />For love of unforgotten times,<br />And you may chance to hear once more<br />The little feet along the floor.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #006600; font-size: 85%;">~Robert Louis Stevenson</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;">This heart, my own dear mother, bends,</span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">With love's true instinct, back to thee!</span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%;">~Thomas Moore</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3333ff;"><strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">And a couple of "Tru'isms"...</span></strong><br /><em>When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.</em><br /><span style="font-size: 85%;">~Sophia Loren</span><br /><br /><em>We never know the love of the parent until we become parents ourselves.</em><br /><span style="font-size: 85%;">~Henry Ward Beecher</span></span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: #006600;">**************************************************</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "lucida grande";">So, we (my family) have our three generations pics; my mom, my daughter, and I. My maternal grandmother passed before our daughter was born. However, in a <em>small</em> way, she still can hear her...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(For book purposes: the video that was/is posted is one of Emma sitting in, what is now, Clayton's closet that was full of stuff... including a talking picture frame that had Grandma's mom recorded on it saying 'I love you'.)</span><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='480' height='399' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwtsZB4MoFiiyHQDabzIgvwwSlh-jO6_B582R0Rm2gDc-183ZppJO9E4PJgQtFz1KCeAgNgUa48EeOKMlF_Kw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<em><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 180%;"><strong>I am more blessed than words can say.</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #993399; font-size: 180%;"><strong>My cup runneth over.</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #006600; font-size: 180%;"><strong>HAPPY MOM'S DAY TO YOU!</strong></span></em></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #3333ff; font-size: 180%;">LYM</span></em></strong></div>
Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-13432344048312292602013-05-11T21:30:00.000-05:002013-05-11T22:11:01.069-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">On to Greener Pastures</span></strong></div>
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<strong>Julieboo</strong></div>
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<strong>(Rampions Amira)</strong></div>
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<strong>Feb. 5th, 1980 ~ May 6th, 2013</strong> </div>
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I got Julieboo after my first horse (of only 10 months), 'Bunnie', died. Julie was a 2 y/o filly in the same public barn where we kept Bunnie. The lady that owned her was selling her at the time of Bunnie's death. So, Julieboo was offered as a gift. But my dad made sure the gift was compensated... little did I know. I was 13 y/o at the time.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDmCxNU8oY_iHJrzYfGVuNYtEDz4U47sPjTcVBETZB7rauJIwvjWGThUMN6fJ1v8AYRDO0cM-f4R31RlKVrKK9vTdYhNIYP18WzIDmiJl6XJ6f1WAiQgpsztcFPZZt8Fee1uwHpNPBTI4/s1600/Julie+N+Julie+-bayport+stables.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDmCxNU8oY_iHJrzYfGVuNYtEDz4U47sPjTcVBETZB7rauJIwvjWGThUMN6fJ1v8AYRDO0cM-f4R31RlKVrKK9vTdYhNIYP18WzIDmiJl6XJ6f1WAiQgpsztcFPZZt8Fee1uwHpNPBTI4/s640/Julie+N+Julie+-bayport+stables.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's one scraggly-headed kid on that pretty mare.</td></tr>
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Julieboo had her spunk for sure, but the scraggly kid managed to shape it somehow into a very nice western pleasure horse.... she was a natural, though, all on her own.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPywKeK7kkvMu_lAicZp5O5UvPQX-R_eBEtGL7uk65efGaDfVbSEfR40bxKg-nzr8FNmZur91GEt9_OEbuVhibFDOpJzsOZcwzk24EACrDFAhrKSgswQd_lifS86vqpDU1T5QrdAETOa0/s1600/Julieboo+%2526+Dandy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPywKeK7kkvMu_lAicZp5O5UvPQX-R_eBEtGL7uk65efGaDfVbSEfR40bxKg-nzr8FNmZur91GEt9_OEbuVhibFDOpJzsOZcwzk24EACrDFAhrKSgswQd_lifS86vqpDU1T5QrdAETOa0/s640/Julieboo+%2526+Dandy.jpg" width="441" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dandy on Julieboo w/ a protective pad under the blanket. Julieboo had many "tricks up her sleeve".</td></tr>
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The last third of her life was spent on our property where I could see her every day. I'm glad that I was able to give her a nice 'retirement'. She deserved it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzC916MVlW8L0MdbgADq6wETuCof7ITi10rOkIHz-Q24CSAc4SvDYnXMWTYEumfiDGIfSdbzIHlbQSkRdhzcN-X1hxn4SsjYLsPt9NU05UcfRQYkEWaIOI3qRFbK8ucOcSPo-SrAkbCs/s1600/Julieboo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzC916MVlW8L0MdbgADq6wETuCof7ITi10rOkIHz-Q24CSAc4SvDYnXMWTYEumfiDGIfSdbzIHlbQSkRdhzcN-X1hxn4SsjYLsPt9NU05UcfRQYkEWaIOI3qRFbK8ucOcSPo-SrAkbCs/s640/Julieboo.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julieboo on her pasture of retirement.<br />
She had sweet eyes.</td></tr>
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I'm so glad that my kids got to know the ole' grey mare.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZkv6BmzJM0dzVYQQtV_P-yECmHdq-Xjvm0cznk1r9rPZNwx7v7Gsy3wTBSywZAKqp2srqFvGLK-wmFrdLCnTfDbBz_R591EcUaww1Sz7uFNPQ1j-mbKF7F-GfRiRqybFh1c2MnFs_Zk/s1600/Julieboo+C+n+E.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZkv6BmzJM0dzVYQQtV_P-yECmHdq-Xjvm0cznk1r9rPZNwx7v7Gsy3wTBSywZAKqp2srqFvGLK-wmFrdLCnTfDbBz_R591EcUaww1Sz7uFNPQ1j-mbKF7F-GfRiRqybFh1c2MnFs_Zk/s640/Julieboo+C+n+E.jpg" width="460" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E & C on their last ride (didn't know it at the time- though I suspected the time would be soon).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I had been increasing her feed for about 2 years prior to her death- it was then that she started becoming a bit harder to keep.<br />
Several months prior to her death, I had to <em>really</em> start pouring it to her. But, no amount "would stick" to her ribs. I gave her so much, I worried I'd colic her. She just wasn't assimilating it like she needed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BVDS-vE6sSr43367lrN-WsWmn3NwwGzuVeaL5BfIMbq3ufLGlEbnX7lZlYpF40_UWobZmHkGxVtrnq0wCpPbmn-cDui7IPlei6pjUxSF-V8oidJo1AXKZxXzr6ofutoDYsbEMsJB8gs/s1600/Julieboo-+2+wks+before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BVDS-vE6sSr43367lrN-WsWmn3NwwGzuVeaL5BfIMbq3ufLGlEbnX7lZlYpF40_UWobZmHkGxVtrnq0wCpPbmn-cDui7IPlei6pjUxSF-V8oidJo1AXKZxXzr6ofutoDYsbEMsJB8gs/s640/Julieboo-+2+wks+before.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This pic was taken 2 weeks & 1 day before the ole mare just couldn't get up... and the 'decision' was made.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoU6zkg9SJfgk66k28uJ3A86EkKqK483vTBtnwcU6uKS9-yiKiz25TX6GIrZfzCxb1JO2m2viRxXdFfQiAnRA8If-k3-kYaseV5QErMOaiYZswTk1Q8zxag8ixwAt2oJ0K_f1aoXdhbQ/s1600/DSC00886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoU6zkg9SJfgk66k28uJ3A86EkKqK483vTBtnwcU6uKS9-yiKiz25TX6GIrZfzCxb1JO2m2viRxXdFfQiAnRA8If-k3-kYaseV5QErMOaiYZswTk1Q8zxag8ixwAt2oJ0K_f1aoXdhbQ/s640/DSC00886.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She is buried over on the far right -in this pic- in our big pasture.<br />
She will be missed.<br />
Not many -<em>truly</em>- 'bomb-proof' horses are out there like her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-48206624062129632932013-01-31T22:08:00.000-06:002013-01-31T22:08:14.406-06:00Loves of my life...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitreeE0nHp2MgaRo8jEinmpJjSmI7A6XhzVzB7yymhz6SIoCJ3LIag9qBBxC2t4gL577AKP6taJQc0qoRZ57BQAm77g5nsUvxR6mJ_eqMzHFXekmlXjrXGFky6V7yGwFPtEuH8IuuoNbY/s1600/DSC08782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitreeE0nHp2MgaRo8jEinmpJjSmI7A6XhzVzB7yymhz6SIoCJ3LIag9qBBxC2t4gL577AKP6taJQc0qoRZ57BQAm77g5nsUvxR6mJ_eqMzHFXekmlXjrXGFky6V7yGwFPtEuH8IuuoNbY/s400/DSC08782.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-75267097374297977842012-11-13T22:36:00.002-06:002022-11-30T13:19:38.193-06:00The Wisdom of Thomas Sowell<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img align="right" alt="" border="0" src="http://libertarianquotes.net/images/sowell.jpg" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTMY-6dQYeiaMk2XJssXrwuO9I0UKIwwpRcDein6APXh_8mqChWCWExhRQQlJ2f8wnLsds2AFfbkSvO-moUjlOfK4-_k1FhX9OHnxD8wXMXRyRjiYckqYG4vr1LUGcNvmp7C2-JYgklMiNdxN_MXA1yKcsMijCqchcxZWawqQIaaOCWhK3PtG4JhCR" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTMY-6dQYeiaMk2XJssXrwuO9I0UKIwwpRcDein6APXh_8mqChWCWExhRQQlJ2f8wnLsds2AFfbkSvO-moUjlOfK4-_k1FhX9OHnxD8wXMXRyRjiYckqYG4vr1LUGcNvmp7C2-JYgklMiNdxN_MXA1yKcsMijCqchcxZWawqQIaaOCWhK3PtG4JhCR" width="171" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There
is nothing so bad that politics cannot make it worse. <br />
<br />
It is amazing how many people think that they can answer an argument by
attributing bad motives to those who disagree with them. Using this kind of
reasoning, you can believe or not believe anything about anything, without
having to bother to deal with facts or logic. <br />
<br />
It is hard to imagine a more stupid or more dangerous way of making decisions
than by putting those decisions in the hands of people who pay no price for
being wrong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">If you
have always believed that everyone should play by the same rules and be judged
by the same standards, that would have gotten you labeled a radical 50 years
ago, a liberal 25 years ago, and a racist today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What
“multiculturalism” boils down to is that you can praise any culture in the
world except Western culture—and you cannot blame any culture in the world
except Western culture.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Socialism
in general has a record of failure so blatant that only an intellectual could
ignore or evade it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of
the sad signs of our times is that we have demonized those who produce, subsidized
those who refuse to produce, and canonized those who complain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The welfare state is the oldest con game in the world. First you take people's
money away quietly, and then you give some of it back to them flamboyantly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mystical references to "society" and its programs to "help"
may warm the hearts of the gullible, but what it really means is putting more
power in the hands of bureaucrats. <br />
<br />
If you have ever seen a four-year-old trying to lord it over a two-year-old,
then you know what the basic problem of human nature is - and why government
keeps growing larger and ever more intrusive. <br />
<br />
Liberals seem to assume that, if you don't believe in their particular
political solutions, then you don't really care about the people that they
claim to want to help. <br />
<br />
If you have been voting for politicians who promise to give you goodies at
someone else's expense, then you have no right to complain when they take your
money and give it to someone else, including themselves. <br />
<br />
The essence of bigotry is denying other people the same free choices you have.
Many of those who call themselves environmentalists could more accurately be
called green bigots. <br />
<br />
Liberals love to say things like, "We're just asking everyone to pay their
fair share." But government is not about asking. It is about telling. The
difference is fundamental. It is the difference between making love and being
raped, between working for a living and being a slave. The Internal Revenue
service is not asking anybody to do anything. It confiscates your assets and
puts you behind bars if you don't pay.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-57123120651240669252012-11-06T23:12:00.000-06:002016-10-19T23:00:04.045-05:00We fly you in distress BECAUSE we have respect for you...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVsYSG151DYcmRGn22osLBNEyu6kG_Zlme5XiZFKSwIxBzuA6BAbWWn9T4nmDBXTyOZhs6qtAR3hoP4YsgRR9ehMJQOejoGNRjMdHYmdNzIhjcUd_URedqtrL8C5oOwaU8lXcjM2ynYsk/s1600/distress+flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVsYSG151DYcmRGn22osLBNEyu6kG_Zlme5XiZFKSwIxBzuA6BAbWWn9T4nmDBXTyOZhs6qtAR3hoP4YsgRR9ehMJQOejoGNRjMdHYmdNzIhjcUd_URedqtrL8C5oOwaU8lXcjM2ynYsk/s1600/distress+flag.jpg" /></a></div>
....and believe this great United States has been stressed enough with the last four years of bureaucracy that is actively eroding the very ways that made this country so great to begin with.<br />
And now, four MORE years (!?!) from an incompetent, elitist, arrogant, narcissistic, haughty, demagogue that has less business being in the White House than someone that has <u> </u> (list his "credentials" in the preceding blank).<br />
With all of the evidence of previous maleficence, I am in<em> utter disbelief</em> on this Election day evening.<br />
All with concern for my children & children's children,<br />
Bz<br />
<br />
p.s. We flew you this way only on the day following the election of such a traitor of the American way.Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-61129202641028550342012-05-06T16:22:00.000-05:002012-05-06T16:25:54.317-05:00UPDATE to Previous Post: Missing AlertThe toothpaste was found! We were all in the living room when Mr. C. reached behind the big television where all of the cords and wires live and at about the same time as I told him to get back from there, he pulled his hand back with a tube of toothpaste in it... not open, squeezed or smooshed ... thank goodness!<br />
One tube <strike>down</strike> found.<br />
One to <strike>go</strike> find.Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-1053074892456545132012-05-01T22:42:00.000-05:002012-05-01T22:42:50.165-05:00MISSING Alert:It has now been discovered that a SECOND tube of toothpaste is missing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuEfQGRvjd1COjPX7ftuMZj5ia6EFKz6yIDFCUJIeV7-7uF7v1C17gJhtz-_3-TnadO40lKNJrTBbyfrxiaoleeqA3FH3x8Rv3pjgRHWD4CziEY6D8Fsubd8OR8gWJphJmNJMP3O-TH4/s1600/colgate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuEfQGRvjd1COjPX7ftuMZj5ia6EFKz6yIDFCUJIeV7-7uF7v1C17gJhtz-_3-TnadO40lKNJrTBbyfrxiaoleeqA3FH3x8Rv3pjgRHWD4CziEY6D8Fsubd8OR8gWJphJmNJMP3O-TH4/s400/colgate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This is the second one in less than a week. There are no signs of forced entry, nor is any part of the home left in a disarray (no more than the normal disarray that occurs with a 5 y/o & 2 y/o).<br />
<br />
There are no clues as to the whereabouts, but we feel quite certain that a "person of interest" (mugshot below) may know the whereabouts.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95xxOjSbS7xVCzDJatWUbjlx18Rj93wr-E-uyM06aMM5wg3q14AcihRowdWzYZHT1Tyo6p6LV_k-ZVxAKK-fbQRtwYG2aZMMlFazjkUeuEhGDJZbm4sDCBITANZtAyb_Vnvet2OZ93Gs/s1600/C+smiling+(Large).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95xxOjSbS7xVCzDJatWUbjlx18Rj93wr-E-uyM06aMM5wg3q14AcihRowdWzYZHT1Tyo6p6LV_k-ZVxAKK-fbQRtwYG2aZMMlFazjkUeuEhGDJZbm4sDCBITANZtAyb_Vnvet2OZ93Gs/s640/C+smiling+(Large).jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Should we learn the whereabouts, our teeth will be happier... as will the parents of the 'person of interest' because then their fears shall be allayed in wondering if these tubes have been expelled in some remote part of the home only to be discovered dry and glue-caked into ... who knows what!?!</div>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-60896295322771902122012-04-12T14:11:00.001-05:002012-04-12T14:11:11.478-05:00Standing Proud...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk91eIL47SA_nWY3ciAlgrDgHgbt5xWw2MyU6eK-lQZqB7Cl0KSElSHlTSiatjqhMRChKIV2HZVjVT2R_7SXFrPzxMYhhZiMrz-7Fe7wni17EnVszoy0bFCG-gSpOwrwIQmR2srv6GpJk/s1600/Faheem+upright+(Large).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk91eIL47SA_nWY3ciAlgrDgHgbt5xWw2MyU6eK-lQZqB7Cl0KSElSHlTSiatjqhMRChKIV2HZVjVT2R_7SXFrPzxMYhhZiMrz-7Fe7wni17EnVszoy0bFCG-gSpOwrwIQmR2srv6GpJk/s640/Faheem+upright+(Large).jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-59745388464992438792012-04-01T22:52:00.000-05:002012-04-01T22:52:56.792-05:00April is here with all the fun & the latest happenings...<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQNqhqSdpgcpaxcu2fAFhEgq6rRvcP-VPyCgzgXJ1oD_x4G0n6VaWXHol4YIz5M5sn0zg1jWVPX4eU8en09Vw06UzMLfzvAWXMNJnay7EtmwnpBiz924nzNb9yYqlRMdO3V9iyggR47ig/s1600/DSC06733+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQNqhqSdpgcpaxcu2fAFhEgq6rRvcP-VPyCgzgXJ1oD_x4G0n6VaWXHol4YIz5M5sn0zg1jWVPX4eU8en09Vw06UzMLfzvAWXMNJnay7EtmwnpBiz924nzNb9yYqlRMdO3V9iyggR47ig/s640/DSC06733+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting the day with a little iPad puzzle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtI4AL5b6m-AqILBww0yoUkpxPBDWsWFMA-RO4QXvnh0Jy6VaFA72bS7X0QUNqE7rjwkRkVOVeDVsAjOk2mMJ9dlUMziy5FJwtOopF0BTzgaqvTCf44aHXb_BONBlRaYFiy6bPtyHLzU/s1600/DSC06730+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtI4AL5b6m-AqILBww0yoUkpxPBDWsWFMA-RO4QXvnh0Jy6VaFA72bS7X0QUNqE7rjwkRkVOVeDVsAjOk2mMJ9dlUMziy5FJwtOopF0BTzgaqvTCf44aHXb_BONBlRaYFiy6bPtyHLzU/s640/DSC06730+(Medium).JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then play with the pup.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGz3hHSHKKzNb59U-QTUAsU96A-yhdQsgLaNtfJj2II25K5EEadGvp2cvTf0FHtagryo1Wx75EqQqGYYy4jEUykE9nmsSN_df7TcRd9dvrR4sLYy9_AQ18DNZbkuk-CcYj8YBZLlQh2YQ/s1600/DSC06754+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGz3hHSHKKzNb59U-QTUAsU96A-yhdQsgLaNtfJj2II25K5EEadGvp2cvTf0FHtagryo1Wx75EqQqGYYy4jEUykE9nmsSN_df7TcRd9dvrR4sLYy9_AQ18DNZbkuk-CcYj8YBZLlQh2YQ/s640/DSC06754+(Medium).JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See the beautiful contrasting colors?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8DEDjHPQNTUc3WgKB84KRJiZ-etDxBuPAqSZi5qRSybAvXab1tcN8I2HFcH79h1M2P6i5RgY4y8WH8nQTZJYCkNEEt4NjGTs57X15baiIjncwH8u67xNIyyvMrZNszQ0gOdpHORwE2I/s1600/DSC06749+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8DEDjHPQNTUc3WgKB84KRJiZ-etDxBuPAqSZi5qRSybAvXab1tcN8I2HFcH79h1M2P6i5RgY4y8WH8nQTZJYCkNEEt4NjGTs57X15baiIjncwH8u67xNIyyvMrZNszQ0gOdpHORwE2I/s640/DSC06749+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While Miss E makes a "nest" in the background, Mr. C decides to soak in the pup's water bucket, clothes and all.<br />
This was after he bent over and dunked the top of his head in.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGJEhgr7-Fi2D9O_WLUpN1lWFkdm7WqqnYssMYJjEeE-Ebs6QNNd7mQw0u6Zj_5PsfiNVmSPuWE3A8Ix7XJMfj1XsgIBQeLG3tFfP-ezitTY9Ylc1uLv9SVeQI36GcHq4zoNGFBGMgjM/s1600/DSC06751+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGJEhgr7-Fi2D9O_WLUpN1lWFkdm7WqqnYssMYJjEeE-Ebs6QNNd7mQw0u6Zj_5PsfiNVmSPuWE3A8Ix7XJMfj1XsgIBQeLG3tFfP-ezitTY9Ylc1uLv9SVeQI36GcHq4zoNGFBGMgjM/s640/DSC06751+(Medium).JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bark mulch is NOT a regular part of his diet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHuEK7bjsyaujBIacpcceOj8SzZ1bVikdlHNNA0uJAUdlwtCNzRc26jUCnrA9mLu_qdH-9heR8LCfC5BheVJLT_ienfz97fDmriHLIWjzVEXTJDhTFkL74LFaA118w9np0nyrKlFj_aU/s1600/DSC06761+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHuEK7bjsyaujBIacpcceOj8SzZ1bVikdlHNNA0uJAUdlwtCNzRc26jUCnrA9mLu_qdH-9heR8LCfC5BheVJLT_ienfz97fDmriHLIWjzVEXTJDhTFkL74LFaA118w9np0nyrKlFj_aU/s640/DSC06761+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Momma affording Mr. C some privacy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKhMi9dcRwOSLCtwpRR-AN-3_he7NXdOYuugqPkT5u8P23I8szJj1XwdEe-2pXBQk3u9BDcdwxiMCRX66XQNWuk_55mohaw-1XHZLnVEeE4qbuOxsL7Kmycb-M7Pj1i2CX8HqpziLUsg/s1600/DSC06762+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKhMi9dcRwOSLCtwpRR-AN-3_he7NXdOYuugqPkT5u8P23I8szJj1XwdEe-2pXBQk3u9BDcdwxiMCRX66XQNWuk_55mohaw-1XHZLnVEeE4qbuOxsL7Kmycb-M7Pj1i2CX8HqpziLUsg/s640/DSC06762+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three sweet fellas; although one of them has dined on horse truffles more than we care. His tongue looks clean here though.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ZnoATLt2fto0X8xEOri6YmZNWsGdLL_g8mCqf07rjSyTJHf6vN08aZaUADzktwUAS-zO5GloNAxa0LjSeJ2ZixsxXP0sCi2RToJ9h6q9ivlpsFvnaG7eNzNpzHO9jg7trjP5p2FqyLw/s1600/DSC06766+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ZnoATLt2fto0X8xEOri6YmZNWsGdLL_g8mCqf07rjSyTJHf6vN08aZaUADzktwUAS-zO5GloNAxa0LjSeJ2ZixsxXP0sCi2RToJ9h6q9ivlpsFvnaG7eNzNpzHO9jg7trjP5p2FqyLw/s640/DSC06766+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss E's nest is complete!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI83iomZWkhtI8yCkKven3oDZZks9wurSSYdYOnZq97xdWJLCqETb83dRBWO94tiscK0XVN4PyGOuSxBI6L3zuzW1dk6FKodg_Ww-sFXHuCBl9OoY500-P1brctGZcFoh7vgv-J78JPDs/s1600/DSC06772+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI83iomZWkhtI8yCkKven3oDZZks9wurSSYdYOnZq97xdWJLCqETb83dRBWO94tiscK0XVN4PyGOuSxBI6L3zuzW1dk6FKodg_Ww-sFXHuCBl9OoY500-P1brctGZcFoh7vgv-J78JPDs/s640/DSC06772+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booger, the cat: "<em>Are you going to hurry up and finish the rose garden so I can take a nap in it</em>?"<br />
Amazing how cat's pupils can narrow to such little slits.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjgP76FIgfONwlbNpHSq8DasQHRBTc0ZycnUk0tlk7Zb4tswvZT2TPyh6J2oFnYtK6sB2swHqj1wFJevCW39MQ9DCpaCUwNa-QoiBNp8SRad3B9qPKH2NJE32eEVjUGSQigSVCoQT0X4/s1600/DSC06767+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjgP76FIgfONwlbNpHSq8DasQHRBTc0ZycnUk0tlk7Zb4tswvZT2TPyh6J2oFnYtK6sB2swHqj1wFJevCW39MQ9DCpaCUwNa-QoiBNp8SRad3B9qPKH2NJE32eEVjUGSQigSVCoQT0X4/s640/DSC06767+(Medium).JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div align="center">
The rose garden complete.</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-10704909098701046302012-03-28T18:00:00.000-05:002012-03-28T18:00:40.239-05:00Sighhh... He Can Now Work DoorknobsBut he's ohh so cute!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtty5J9LiUhgvBufPD5iinARqlKC3Y8b4WQ-uQaka2ujewn9RP7l9zdVC2fd-pQrqnAvUkaexzgb1m9CIigdKnN6phKOMuZgQWZ11rZEg-eqFTKIH92NXaVKi949NHQY1NlV4HunyQmUo/s1600/DSC06584+crpd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtty5J9LiUhgvBufPD5iinARqlKC3Y8b4WQ-uQaka2ujewn9RP7l9zdVC2fd-pQrqnAvUkaexzgb1m9CIigdKnN6phKOMuZgQWZ11rZEg-eqFTKIH92NXaVKi949NHQY1NlV4HunyQmUo/s320/DSC06584+crpd.jpg" width="219" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFOhlV6zQXm2CEM-32li6XnhSJsRLt61vMgRAf_c7hp8dzYuBW-aN4AdXkMTyQvUU25nnYwGxAaN0BZJxz5mBAarlMALjhUpKs2E0-xbOL8NC3HRSr_zvZU2Nas8W4pjFh6e-6IjyARE/s1600/DSC06531+(Medium).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFOhlV6zQXm2CEM-32li6XnhSJsRLt61vMgRAf_c7hp8dzYuBW-aN4AdXkMTyQvUU25nnYwGxAaN0BZJxz5mBAarlMALjhUpKs2E0-xbOL8NC3HRSr_zvZU2Nas8W4pjFh6e-6IjyARE/s400/DSC06531+(Medium).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-83546113605066145392012-03-22T21:58:00.000-05:002012-03-22T21:58:07.878-05:00Who's the Moron that.......invented folding clothes?<br />
<br />
<br />
[Asked aloud by my dear husband. To which I answered, 'I don't know, but it's stupid.']Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-40166304220838605652012-03-12T22:30:00.000-05:002015-11-05T22:31:19.391-06:00Which Austen Heroine are you?<div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Well, I took the quiz and it says that I am:</div>
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</div>
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<span class="illuminateddropcap">Y</span>ou are <strong>Elinor Dashwood</strong> of <cite>Sense & Sensibility</cite>! You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF5pHR3FQJ7yJoGl4ftUbUra5CH0SQLyGVPbLOSB0lMg8xaP-HKziA7yG1N_Ipm_AbBI93HeQv6zUqIpzUaahPzLaGXVClj6DYbEX2kLEhcpi4GEuXXW2liAm-PHKv9abLyNuAnEcvpk/s1600/dashwood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF5pHR3FQJ7yJoGl4ftUbUra5CH0SQLyGVPbLOSB0lMg8xaP-HKziA7yG1N_Ipm_AbBI93HeQv6zUqIpzUaahPzLaGXVClj6DYbEX2kLEhcpi4GEuXXW2liAm-PHKv9abLyNuAnEcvpk/s1600/dashwood.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Truth be told ... as is the way of my character, I've not read/seen any of the Austen liertature.<br />
I hear it's good. I would like to read some someday.<br />
WHY did I take it then... b/c SOME day I may read it.<br />
<br />
If you want to take the quiz, click here:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.strangegirl.com/emma/quiz.php">http://www.strangegirl.com/emma/quiz.php</a>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-30362032703312677812012-02-03T22:56:00.000-06:002012-02-03T22:56:40.908-06:00What a Noble Lad he is...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnL7-4GF37y068BV9vAXUP1D53bsDlzEHuKic-O-NroEaRCc3iNxyKWXqKk2zONCAbbSTvtw2u_4baGkh1a0LTsTWjlLzponbTlpMKM4WD28oCeo8YVk9RcO255W86J-lX5ZgGkXjWv5g/s1600/DSC06393w+lt+(Large).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnL7-4GF37y068BV9vAXUP1D53bsDlzEHuKic-O-NroEaRCc3iNxyKWXqKk2zONCAbbSTvtw2u_4baGkh1a0LTsTWjlLzponbTlpMKM4WD28oCeo8YVk9RcO255W86J-lX5ZgGkXjWv5g/s640/DSC06393w+lt+(Large).jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Laddy" at 7 months & 80 lbs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-55266772546007210352012-01-20T22:43:00.001-06:002012-01-20T22:43:28.159-06:00Mr. C turns TWO! ...and gets a haircut the next day<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbVO5tPMDEFVPL6jKVc9-Tn58UGtQVN9BpG-3nPRDKTv8woXSdVfNHy9KaM3oU5ADPFG5lMCwKfVTse3b3CRm2Vi5SFJjTguCQ36aClrNJaKACGMdBoJN5foMtohrGHTPcjLBFvh1Pjo/s1600/DSC06321+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbVO5tPMDEFVPL6jKVc9-Tn58UGtQVN9BpG-3nPRDKTv8woXSdVfNHy9KaM3oU5ADPFG5lMCwKfVTse3b3CRm2Vi5SFJjTguCQ36aClrNJaKACGMdBoJN5foMtohrGHTPcjLBFvh1Pjo/s640/DSC06321+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Restraining underway</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtApC2wGEjmBc9OZtbh6YvN6GvOUuDGwsyg7HqE60fUCF3Y-ZPAiJdHKkHgg-WMPJm0N0cTpzfeNZlFkO-1hESOB81dl8K269P1vtBbGYRkCLeS2vjCf1XFrHkwAQnvGUzKmTRqHGsFeU/s1600/DSC06319+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtApC2wGEjmBc9OZtbh6YvN6GvOUuDGwsyg7HqE60fUCF3Y-ZPAiJdHKkHgg-WMPJm0N0cTpzfeNZlFkO-1hESOB81dl8K269P1vtBbGYRkCLeS2vjCf1XFrHkwAQnvGUzKmTRqHGsFeU/s640/DSC06319+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C LOVES trains.<br />
[Thanks 'GRRRrandPA' (grandma) for the cake.]</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQlLnQEb276TYFCO3peHIaFNG474hvh3mmyfO7ZB9g7In-LM7S9N8vKxG5rcDZ_kYxzJwxgUJFopxWXMCjzCOT1_3KA6ngaqPN1S8BKO4Y33fnzpUKtOrH69E47Vj5z8xLQFeI27RCvc/s1600/DSC06328+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQlLnQEb276TYFCO3peHIaFNG474hvh3mmyfO7ZB9g7In-LM7S9N8vKxG5rcDZ_kYxzJwxgUJFopxWXMCjzCOT1_3KA6ngaqPN1S8BKO4Y33fnzpUKtOrH69E47Vj5z8xLQFeI27RCvc/s640/DSC06328+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmmm...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WdftJ98DCa1U3Xh2CVcIFMc828ft_QZszj-tqtunWAKDma29usnSUxg7r2n92-Pey25CzK1u5wRQwCj5Slcp1QNjPQaDrcp70Gzoi4cFVgAJSoiJJPKfkIPo0hok6KoqoCQ-1KEe5DU/s1600/DSC06329+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WdftJ98DCa1U3Xh2CVcIFMc828ft_QZszj-tqtunWAKDma29usnSUxg7r2n92-Pey25CzK1u5wRQwCj5Slcp1QNjPQaDrcp70Gzoi4cFVgAJSoiJJPKfkIPo0hok6KoqoCQ-1KEe5DU/s640/DSC06329+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Mmmmm!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0LEqhdA2Boo4lLAEZXc86_rNxOvvmcQXciV62Smo5Tz2S_j2uhAXvyyGW3xOSODPCaeD3HXcSoeKKx7vopXdq6JbAOsTZVIbKxrIVCPEuggNPQl0V-md4NRV3v2mF5kTVyvoxSa2Rmk/s1600/DSC06334+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0LEqhdA2Boo4lLAEZXc86_rNxOvvmcQXciV62Smo5Tz2S_j2uhAXvyyGW3xOSODPCaeD3HXcSoeKKx7vopXdq6JbAOsTZVIbKxrIVCPEuggNPQl0V-md4NRV3v2mF5kTVyvoxSa2Rmk/s640/DSC06334+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who DOESN'T love cake & ice cream?!?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPAgXcio51Av77ZYhL_Nlf2u83F31gU4p8OFOqaH0PIV9NncEOhZYcGpQfSSHUKtdG2rCQzmkpucWgAtM0JnPi3kQhMRdrRcf-hAPRKyn8mTZphxRQijBSY0ey6hUlJTFl321paUiQ94/s1600/DSC06338+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPAgXcio51Av77ZYhL_Nlf2u83F31gU4p8OFOqaH0PIV9NncEOhZYcGpQfSSHUKtdG2rCQzmkpucWgAtM0JnPi3kQhMRdrRcf-hAPRKyn8mTZphxRQijBSY0ey6hUlJTFl321paUiQ94/s640/DSC06338+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So grown up from one day to the next.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtto5g3Cz3HlWhIIwTdiMuEffq1wbTBM8EgOuTEZxWAjgxgFjKZONghK5NJHS624WbBUG5oqaVDdFjEd5LSwF-rPWoXpobfYVx8iQwLAWT0fkkVpdsX0huszOtPPqGgwGdKRQysa3wN6Y/s1600/DSC06340+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtto5g3Cz3HlWhIIwTdiMuEffq1wbTBM8EgOuTEZxWAjgxgFjKZONghK5NJHS624WbBUG5oqaVDdFjEd5LSwF-rPWoXpobfYVx8iQwLAWT0fkkVpdsX0huszOtPPqGgwGdKRQysa3wN6Y/s640/DSC06340+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute from the back too!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXKM4eltQfjiiaFCdxiIf3spPbiq5NjwJr0UyeOzmo74ieJoyuXXMIZ3JgaXZLPog7wmB5v6kiqaV2G9gAQIhs16hrXlsfESRBYk3Wv64pWpdYv9JOnKw3HRm3KWKAtc71UW1Ta87aGo/s1600/DSC06353+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXKM4eltQfjiiaFCdxiIf3spPbiq5NjwJr0UyeOzmo74ieJoyuXXMIZ3JgaXZLPog7wmB5v6kiqaV2G9gAQIhs16hrXlsfESRBYk3Wv64pWpdYv9JOnKw3HRm3KWKAtc71UW1Ta87aGo/s640/DSC06353+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-27000508404729749652011-12-26T14:29:00.000-06:002011-12-26T14:29:06.191-06:00A Little Bit O' Christmas 2011<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nm7xENep1F4/TvjWkLWhhgI/AAAAAAAAB0I/Cu9hzVF__xQ/s1600/DSC06014crpd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nm7xENep1F4/TvjWkLWhhgI/AAAAAAAAB0I/Cu9hzVF__xQ/s640/DSC06014crpd.jpg" width="470" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was great seeing Santa!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OzNPtfd9VJk/TvjXD62MX-I/AAAAAAAAB0Q/F-i42QrLntE/s1600/DSC06042crpd+%2528Large%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OzNPtfd9VJk/TvjXD62MX-I/AAAAAAAAB0Q/F-i42QrLntE/s640/DSC06042crpd+%2528Large%2529.jpg" width="474" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A right, cute, jolly little boy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0QeLxWrEPQE/TvjXJuLJk2I/AAAAAAAAB0Y/iSqLfMxr1XI/s1600/DSC06094+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0QeLxWrEPQE/TvjXJuLJk2I/AAAAAAAAB0Y/iSqLfMxr1XI/s640/DSC06094+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A baker deluxe- did her own Christmas Tree Cake.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rSbbCsmuMu8/TvjXPe7f5rI/AAAAAAAAB0g/Na6kj8gq1A8/s1600/DSC06051+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rSbbCsmuMu8/TvjXPe7f5rI/AAAAAAAAB0g/Na6kj8gq1A8/s640/DSC06051+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big one of our Christmas trees.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i8nZ-EzA1L4/TvjWcxa3mjI/AAAAAAAAB0A/YOIL17QU-24/s1600/DSC06097+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i8nZ-EzA1L4/TvjWcxa3mjI/AAAAAAAAB0A/YOIL17QU-24/s640/DSC06097+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our blessings -not in disguise here :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-48881282033858060162011-12-18T23:14:00.001-06:002011-12-18T23:14:32.054-06:00All Boy / All Girl:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMl_G0-pXgL2CuHqE0CoQvoPUIv1gurq_WzEf3Uk8Tmp-5Klaz30ucpK2rTLV5qAlC2Nvh6_ByTRWN7hMtEuQGkDP6s9gWIvPRxh5Kfi81iI-hgPTYXNMInRiILIpwE6CATJYofuPGwQ/s1600/DSC05603+crp+%2528Large%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMl_G0-pXgL2CuHqE0CoQvoPUIv1gurq_WzEf3Uk8Tmp-5Klaz30ucpK2rTLV5qAlC2Nvh6_ByTRWN7hMtEuQGkDP6s9gWIvPRxh5Kfi81iI-hgPTYXNMInRiILIpwE6CATJYofuPGwQ/s640/DSC05603+crp+%2528Large%2529.jpg" width="452" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZ4VONZIdRD7kYdfTodaf0MY4rUwSsbNngjj5L51hS9kQWFxW4N0y0rg8ngPPzOUORdh2P-mmtquecoj-xvkLbo4E2oOcNY0LN5-0mfima119_mz0Muxv-zbcORWmgGPD_dOeFeKZCxM/s1600/DSC05604crpd+%2528Large%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZ4VONZIdRD7kYdfTodaf0MY4rUwSsbNngjj5L51hS9kQWFxW4N0y0rg8ngPPzOUORdh2P-mmtquecoj-xvkLbo4E2oOcNY0LN5-0mfima119_mz0Muxv-zbcORWmgGPD_dOeFeKZCxM/s640/DSC05604crpd+%2528Large%2529.jpg" width="468" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">...and both sooo cute.</span><br />Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-7038549998017335192011-12-04T21:25:00.001-06:002015-11-05T22:35:42.153-06:00The Smuge-steraka: Smudge, Smudgie, Smudge-puppy, Smudge-pie<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
March 7, 2005 - Nov. 16th, 2011</div>
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One of the sweetest.</div>
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I saw her come into the world ...and saw her go out.</div>
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No words...</div>
<br />Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-70985561465907043782011-11-13T13:32:00.000-06:002011-11-13T20:43:38.760-06:00An Iron in a BottleWhat WILL they come up with next?!? I got this stuff on a whim thinking, "Ahhh, <em>really</em>??" ...and <em>Holy Ironing Board</em>... they put an iron in a bottle and made it liquid. A.MA.ZING!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JSczvcu4S-A1vqoStbZABO-tS_3y7rXmCfpk6TYZf6onxH6Ou1DyxNIlNvAR5O3bY2EwRrUpYe_HKbLrWYSErpH6tnTSeS1ZLmWRokky6e7fzTY181I_73WWn8oyZd8UOhQOVHASYUY/s1600/downy+wr+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JSczvcu4S-A1vqoStbZABO-tS_3y7rXmCfpk6TYZf6onxH6Ou1DyxNIlNvAR5O3bY2EwRrUpYe_HKbLrWYSErpH6tnTSeS1ZLmWRokky6e7fzTY181I_73WWn8oyZd8UOhQOVHASYUY/s400/downy+wr+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-55476690737565233382011-10-20T14:53:00.000-05:002011-10-20T14:53:27.340-05:00Typical Weekend Morning... (of which, the pups are used to)...before we go out & about our day, this is how we start our day on the weekend.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='480' height='480' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzwc1KF5BlrDod1UVAIh3TJdVj8o_AxPYc-9nqmgOEoJaK_GJwXjoq-WDLi1VDKbNJaAkTIvVpgIU2-jH4-xQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-89722337926936167292011-10-06T23:22:00.001-05:002011-10-06T23:22:42.264-05:00What are you looking at ?!?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOLMZmevnyzcm8AYXApCwhXXseTsiA51trc43u_8wTrZhacMZ-gY89Gt-gX74-NPDCAOiAODx_K2m-0AllMPeRd8cI2rvmZo_VgUpJos_IE24-q7AQLP7B_HFpEKgYzU5pmw_WiAtnFA/s1600/DSC05427+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOLMZmevnyzcm8AYXApCwhXXseTsiA51trc43u_8wTrZhacMZ-gY89Gt-gX74-NPDCAOiAODx_K2m-0AllMPeRd8cI2rvmZo_VgUpJos_IE24-q7AQLP7B_HFpEKgYzU5pmw_WiAtnFA/s640/DSC05427+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haven't you ever seen a toddler with food in his hair?!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-39821267491756497202011-09-28T22:15:00.000-05:002011-09-29T09:51:09.502-05:00Stumbled upon Expression<style>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart and you shall see that, in truth, you are weeping for that which has been your delight.</span></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Khalil Gibran</span></i></div>
Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-37474018869306222422011-09-18T22:14:00.002-05:002011-09-18T22:14:32.117-05:00Dog Tired...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRprOZfk7rQsgoVR3ROcUCeCXMfpxx6s2tjJvMJm3BfujobENtANkzvPsefmy2cSzTArJRP8Xa9iT8oMpcXv8DD3Hw3oFIspYwUzTOAMOszgbJCnzNkEVSlq1yZR3-TwJjenm3qkFz2wA/s1600/DSC05265+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRprOZfk7rQsgoVR3ROcUCeCXMfpxx6s2tjJvMJm3BfujobENtANkzvPsefmy2cSzTArJRP8Xa9iT8oMpcXv8DD3Hw3oFIspYwUzTOAMOszgbJCnzNkEVSlq1yZR3-TwJjenm3qkFz2wA/s640/DSC05265+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laddy</td></tr>
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Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-41729102570847983772011-09-18T21:48:00.000-05:002011-09-18T21:48:46.068-05:00This is a Blogger test......if this post, then Yahooo!!!! ... I have had Blogger issues.Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3354896633357926551.post-75409156391696329282011-08-28T15:13:00.002-05:002011-08-28T15:15:33.110-05:00Our Latest Addition:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">No, it's not these two.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><em>(We added them some 5 & 1.5 years ago... and boooooy, if you could cage them, I'd have more of these crates around the house. Okay, no I wouldn't, just kidding. However, they both threw a fit to BE locked in it. IT was paraphernalia for our new addition.).</em></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8YTVsnUbIov7bcV_Kr2k1XpXV9Osx5LgSAKeuh97zyfsVg5NvbBvcC6iFXEFhY433Z2Pntlp20n1JCLOTDArMf0N_mgl_9Gv8nMQFrQ7eTPWpwQ7Jv7UmWhsdTJiPsTMcP2Vlz1Tbzk/s1600/DSC05138+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8YTVsnUbIov7bcV_Kr2k1XpXV9Osx5LgSAKeuh97zyfsVg5NvbBvcC6iFXEFhY433Z2Pntlp20n1JCLOTDArMf0N_mgl_9Gv8nMQFrQ7eTPWpwQ7Jv7UmWhsdTJiPsTMcP2Vlz1Tbzk/s640/DSC05138+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They asked for it.</td></tr>
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And here he is, the third child in our home...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVqo2ZBPPR1Z_kYrIoHX0Qu_VqWpWeLW4p1c1N9vmXsZmconmEnhyphenhyphenC_x1jI6xiZbEx8VV788kcriadTyry_ALg6BBsbZujGOQflMrhDjSBVeW6gaajivnYpxc7iczRguWaJik4mZyA7w/s1600/DSC05179+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVqo2ZBPPR1Z_kYrIoHX0Qu_VqWpWeLW4p1c1N9vmXsZmconmEnhyphenhyphenC_x1jI6xiZbEx8VV788kcriadTyry_ALg6BBsbZujGOQflMrhDjSBVeW6gaajivnYpxc7iczRguWaJik4mZyA7w/s640/DSC05179+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't he cute!?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00562720493485097677noreply@blogger.com2