<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 05:06:09 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>she's crazy</category><category>Andrew</category><category>vacation friends</category><category>wedding</category><title>open mouth, insert foot</title><description>swallow, then repeat.</description><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>266</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/OpenMouthInsertFoot" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="openmouthinsertfoot" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-5285762395031051364</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Jan 2012 17:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-18T12:18:54.237-08:00</atom:updated><title>One week</title><atom:summary>In the past week, I have...

1) Signed up for the MS150, after making some lame/not as lame excuses for 7 rides since my last ride.  I'm kind of scared but more excited.

2) Read the first book of "Hunger Games". Awesome way to get back into reading recreationally again.  Talk about a gripping - I find myself physically shaking while I'm reading from the anxiety of the scenes.  Can't wait to </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2012/01/one-week.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bB0iBMwSgq_G71ncasCxIpb1cIA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bB0iBMwSgq_G71ncasCxIpb1cIA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bB0iBMwSgq_G71ncasCxIpb1cIA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bB0iBMwSgq_G71ncasCxIpb1cIA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-5406234487597016158</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 Jan 2012 19:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-06T21:02:51.333-08:00</atom:updated><title>This year I want to...</title><atom:summary>1. Learn to sew on the sewing machine. I want to be The Bobbin Master.
2. File/Shred the papers that are eating our house alive.  We haven't filed since approximately the turn of the millennium.
3. Make the office a usable AND enjoyable space, instead of a place mediocre things go to gather dust and guilt.
4. Do something special for each of my loved ones.  They deserve it.
5. Visit a new (to me)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2012/01/this-year-i-want-to.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-S9aXlKYNL4Q/TwfR-pseezI/AAAAAAAACdk/HpfN57SogUE/s72-c/blogger-image--1222661703.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5t1AT6OINDo4ODbTuIc_FhHLIC4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5t1AT6OINDo4ODbTuIc_FhHLIC4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5t1AT6OINDo4ODbTuIc_FhHLIC4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5t1AT6OINDo4ODbTuIc_FhHLIC4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-1701833976631609521</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Dec 2011 20:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-22T12:28:48.987-08:00</atom:updated><title>Those Brits are onto something</title><atom:summary>How did my life ever feel complete without an enormous headdress which announces my presence 5 minutes before I've arrived?  Better question, why am I wasting time trying on head bling in the 7th ring of hell that is the Galleria 4 days before Christmas?

I am too that point where I am just trying to make it through the holidays unscathed. Forty-eight hours of jam packed family holiday time, </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/12/those-brits-are-onto-something.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-PPLcLVLZjAk/TvOS_t2sDTI/AAAAAAAACZU/CAkVB55xx90/s72-c/blogger-image-894653718.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ifh45wnIK38wTPoRjh3ytQ-_X-0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ifh45wnIK38wTPoRjh3ytQ-_X-0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ifh45wnIK38wTPoRjh3ytQ-_X-0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ifh45wnIK38wTPoRjh3ytQ-_X-0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-5183233900437766650</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Dec 2011 04:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-11-30T20:37:17.533-08:00</atom:updated><title>The November Spiral</title><atom:summary>It's the last day of November - also Saint Andrew's day - so I have to give a shout out to that Andrew guy I'm married to.  He's pretty swell really.  In Poland, There are all out parties for St. Andrew's Eve, it's a straight-up throw-down.  Poles bring out the psychics and voodoo, for good times.  Saint Andrew's day has been some what auspicious for us actually, given that Andrew met my parents </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/11/november-spiral.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-niE5V0HQ-Fw/Ttb4Q0zMa5I/AAAAAAAACWk/ULNQsXHbL54/s72-c/tgiving+table.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/omiKqTXOAM7MOrxB_5efJ90vCT4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/omiKqTXOAM7MOrxB_5efJ90vCT4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/omiKqTXOAM7MOrxB_5efJ90vCT4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/omiKqTXOAM7MOrxB_5efJ90vCT4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-8391269604185904149</guid><pubDate>Sun, 06 Nov 2011 00:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-11-05T18:00:03.131-07:00</atom:updated><title>Sentimental Thankfulness: It is the little things that keep me sane(ish)</title><atom:summary>If you look at my Facebook feed, it is essentially a list of reasons people are thankful, given the upcoming holiday.  And while I wouldn't claim that kind of FB dedication, I do support the reflective intent.

I am thankful for a daughter who is such a good eater.  I have heard numerous horror stories of 2 year olds who refuse to subsist on anything but mac'n'cheese or PBJ.  I want to hope Lilly</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/11/if-you-look-at-my-facebook-feed-it-is.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-zGRVnVaYgnw/TrXbWgEV3UI/AAAAAAAACSk/gEUFmyNHnlw/s72-c/blogger-image--2017054572.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5p0-3uUq_XqKZrqhVUpGKBTB4mA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5p0-3uUq_XqKZrqhVUpGKBTB4mA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5p0-3uUq_XqKZrqhVUpGKBTB4mA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5p0-3uUq_XqKZrqhVUpGKBTB4mA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-6613733014097932209</guid><pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2011 17:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-28T10:49:13.736-07:00</atom:updated><title>Who needs a woodsman?</title><atom:summary>This morning, I grab Lilly's beautiful handmade (by the sewing genius Mrs. Tina) Red Riding Hood costume for the fall festival at her school.  At the end of the day, there is a parade of all the children in their costumes, all cracked out and jittery on sugar, where parents run around like deranged monkeys wielding expensive camera equipment they don't know how to use (I am including myself in </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/who-needs-woodsman.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LuR8QLnwLWE/TqrrGG32-xI/AAAAAAAACRg/MKBmXGTLkpk/s72-c/blogger-image-673547705.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-RSv4tshJuZ9tHk0CzCdNjOrTcs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-RSv4tshJuZ9tHk0CzCdNjOrTcs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-RSv4tshJuZ9tHk0CzCdNjOrTcs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-RSv4tshJuZ9tHk0CzCdNjOrTcs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-1387370514834411072</guid><pubDate>Fri, 21 Oct 2011 20:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-21T13:09:18.759-07:00</atom:updated><title>The MANicure</title><atom:summary>There must have been some sort of subtle shift in cultural norms in recent years.  I try to go to the salon regularly to take care of my feet (you only get one pair, and mine take a beating); it is my Friday-off indulgence.  I have noticed more and more men crowding the salon.  At the beginning, I figured it was mostly gay men, but as I sit here next to two dudes, mid-50's, decked out in camo, </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/manicure.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Iy-de4TcCsc/TqHRbXJFZLI/AAAAAAAACQE/wMDSPMbTxI8/s72-c/blogger-image-816603668.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/falOePrYj3pfjvbXuXzcz4fAEjQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/falOePrYj3pfjvbXuXzcz4fAEjQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/falOePrYj3pfjvbXuXzcz4fAEjQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/falOePrYj3pfjvbXuXzcz4fAEjQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-4888092409802947002</guid><pubDate>Tue, 11 Oct 2011 02:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-10T19:42:28.769-07:00</atom:updated><title>Coming at you in Vivid Color.  Thanks Jane!</title><atom:summary>Jane Foster, the lovely photographer, came and took photos of our family a couple weeks ago at our house.  Somehow, she managed to pull off some great shots (even with my grimacing mug) and "sneak peeked" us on her blog. 

After last year's realization that I'm not much for studio photography, I'm pleased to have gone with my gut this year.  Jane was a breeze to work with, and so great with kids.</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/coming-at-you-in-vivid-color-thanks.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ROgx0X_eqVB5O7yLOhSXNO8ipdQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ROgx0X_eqVB5O7yLOhSXNO8ipdQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ROgx0X_eqVB5O7yLOhSXNO8ipdQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ROgx0X_eqVB5O7yLOhSXNO8ipdQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-5239107363396653881</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Oct 2011 19:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-09T12:22:23.259-07:00</atom:updated><title>Misery Loves Company</title><atom:summary>At 10am, we showed up to join the Rocky Mountain chapter of the Texas Exes for some OU weekend action.  As it is annually the biggest game of our regular season, it was rowdy but comforting as we got completely stomped.  It's fun to see such a great crowd of alumni away from home.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/misery-loves-company.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EuqG-Mdh-fYgKcbAmUo-BTQEWUE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EuqG-Mdh-fYgKcbAmUo-BTQEWUE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EuqG-Mdh-fYgKcbAmUo-BTQEWUE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EuqG-Mdh-fYgKcbAmUo-BTQEWUE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-6280208745672481605</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Oct 2011 19:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-09T12:16:19.745-07:00</atom:updated><title>True Tourists, Check.</title><atom:summary>My friend Liz said that you're not a true Colorado tourist until you stop at Beau Jo's in Idaho Springs and eat a mountain pie.  Well we didn't want to leave without earning that medal, so on our way back into Denver to escape the pesky altitude, we stopped and grabbed one to go.  She was right, the crust was delicious, and eating it with honey (crust only) was a good call.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/true-tourists-check.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QEeFMgDyWiMcNUKyFlsYCeZjtQM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QEeFMgDyWiMcNUKyFlsYCeZjtQM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QEeFMgDyWiMcNUKyFlsYCeZjtQM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QEeFMgDyWiMcNUKyFlsYCeZjtQM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-335612270482140003</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Oct 2011 13:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-08T06:39:55.165-07:00</atom:updated><title>How much wood...</title><atom:summary>Could a woodpecker peck??  A fair amount it turns out.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/how-much-wood.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o2ZwiOtJ8OwTMaI-xYYglgLE6t8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o2ZwiOtJ8OwTMaI-xYYglgLE6t8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o2ZwiOtJ8OwTMaI-xYYglgLE6t8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o2ZwiOtJ8OwTMaI-xYYglgLE6t8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-7445114282939454035</guid><pubDate>Fri, 07 Oct 2011 04:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-06T21:42:22.121-07:00</atom:updated><title>Very Bridges of Madison County</title><atom:summary>(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/very-bridges-of-madison-county.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4ZOB4iPTAlOJ40Gd7I5e4nvRLJ0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4ZOB4iPTAlOJ40Gd7I5e4nvRLJ0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4ZOB4iPTAlOJ40Gd7I5e4nvRLJ0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4ZOB4iPTAlOJ40Gd7I5e4nvRLJ0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-705206627057067022</guid><pubDate>Fri, 07 Oct 2011 04:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-06T21:40:38.805-07:00</atom:updated><title>Photographic evidence</title><atom:summary>Of how tired we have been.  Let's hope this week corrects that.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/photographic-evidence.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OIvdK7867SFHDpsW5l7LfCWZGwI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OIvdK7867SFHDpsW5l7LfCWZGwI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OIvdK7867SFHDpsW5l7LfCWZGwI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OIvdK7867SFHDpsW5l7LfCWZGwI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-5543194058424595369</guid><pubDate>Fri, 07 Oct 2011 03:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-06T20:58:18.438-07:00</atom:updated><title>Most Expensive Massage of My Life</title><atom:summary>Andrew and I had a couples massage today at the Four Seasons.  You want to see Andrew have a funny look on his face?  Tell him his wife's masseuse is a dude who will be rubbing her down, right in front of him.  AWKWARD.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/most-expensive-massage-of-my-life.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xbNho0rghpII6rbxoafyfVwEKjU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xbNho0rghpII6rbxoafyfVwEKjU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xbNho0rghpII6rbxoafyfVwEKjU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xbNho0rghpII6rbxoafyfVwEKjU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-2241075862096598183</guid><pubDate>Thu, 06 Oct 2011 13:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-06T06:22:50.130-07:00</atom:updated><title>Next to our hotel</title><atom:summary>You walk outside here, and it looks like an amazing painting every. Where. You. Go.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/next-to-our-hotel.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ugbHtG_8jyhQL0fdPLqn_MHLR1g/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ugbHtG_8jyhQL0fdPLqn_MHLR1g/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ugbHtG_8jyhQL0fdPLqn_MHLR1g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ugbHtG_8jyhQL0fdPLqn_MHLR1g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-4649840338721019149</guid><pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2011 20:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-05T13:47:40.170-07:00</atom:updated><title>Because we're missing OU weekend</title><atom:summary>In honor of the game to come, we rented a burnt orange Jeep Wrangler.  And OU still sucks.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/because-were-missing-ou-weekend.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CPxrjFJeSINWOh7IE_wRUMcZl04/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CPxrjFJeSINWOh7IE_wRUMcZl04/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CPxrjFJeSINWOh7IE_wRUMcZl04/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CPxrjFJeSINWOh7IE_wRUMcZl04/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-876468727368412872</guid><pubDate>Tue, 04 Oct 2011 00:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-03T17:04:42.467-07:00</atom:updated><title>I get it now.</title><atom:summary>Sometimes the love I feel for her is so completely overwhelming, my heart literally aches.  I want time to stop.  I want to squeeze her so tight her cheeks pop.  I know that makes no sense, but nothing about being a parent does anyways.  You'll understand too.(see full image)</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-get-it-now.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/07r2UWAvUbpvN_5NMDBk3Cl1b3M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/07r2UWAvUbpvN_5NMDBk3Cl1b3M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/07r2UWAvUbpvN_5NMDBk3Cl1b3M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/07r2UWAvUbpvN_5NMDBk3Cl1b3M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-6251375536969012597</guid><pubDate>Mon, 03 Oct 2011 22:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-03T15:36:53.010-07:00</atom:updated><title>What are these winter clothes you speak of?</title><atom:summary>We're leaving on Wednesday for a just-the-two-of-us long weekend to Vail, Colorado.  When I see the forecast, I assume the only way to pack is long john's and flannel.</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/10/what-are-these-winter-clothes-you-speak.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7UIxxiP739k/Too5Bhn1_jI/AAAAAAAACPk/We_g9GGpOqQ/s72-c/photo-713011.PNG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FH84MIuR_d-rOm6M1skzrqjNuPc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FH84MIuR_d-rOm6M1skzrqjNuPc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FH84MIuR_d-rOm6M1skzrqjNuPc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FH84MIuR_d-rOm6M1skzrqjNuPc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-8527511155809094308</guid><pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2011 04:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-09-30T21:06:54.713-07:00</atom:updated><title>September Who?</title><atom:summary>I have always dreaded the coming of September every year.  It meant the end of summer, the start back to school, and the end of freedom.  Summer is magic, and September marked it's death.  Even though Texas heat doesn't really follow suit in the same way, there is still a tangible feeling of mourning in me.

This year was no different, but instead, September waltzed in the door, made itself </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/09/september-who.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9t3D-4r2qQvoZXJ2r9R5MMu0vG4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9t3D-4r2qQvoZXJ2r9R5MMu0vG4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9t3D-4r2qQvoZXJ2r9R5MMu0vG4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9t3D-4r2qQvoZXJ2r9R5MMu0vG4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-471657051029317350</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Aug 2011 18:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-07T11:48:23.384-07:00</atom:updated><title>Lucas is The Man</title><atom:summary>So while I'm on a project hiatus, people around me are doing amazing things.  One of these people is Stephanie, who happened to have an adorable baby boy, Lucas on Monday, August 1st.  He's got some challenges ahead of him, but I like to think because he was born on my sister's birthday, it's good luck.  He is killing it on the Cuteness Scale.  I forgot the squishableness/baby smell of newborns =</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/08/lucas-is-man.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TqYMQj88sxo/Tj7deuIiZbI/AAAAAAAACLQ/WlYpS95Ub60/s72-c/DSC_1289.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bol07Na7cJ9dR-jyAflCT1OxXnw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bol07Na7cJ9dR-jyAflCT1OxXnw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bol07Na7cJ9dR-jyAflCT1OxXnw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bol07Na7cJ9dR-jyAflCT1OxXnw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-1313803252747365815</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jul 2011 02:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-20T19:00:12.226-07:00</atom:updated><title>Projectless and Twitching</title><atom:summary>Hi! Nice to meet you! Yes I still barely exist over here!

The house is mostly done, and I'm going through the period post-project that always happens to me after something big (to me) is complete. I am fidgety and in a bit of a funk. I don't know what to do with myself, with all this "extra" energy and it drives me slightly mad. I have been through this enough to where I should anticipate it, </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/07/projectless-and-twitching.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i9UIsGZTipM/TieHg_ftA5I/AAAAAAAACKE/I1mOHedvOZE/s72-c/empty+to+do+list.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kPry_RQUvDRWwaDLHMK-xCSh17A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kPry_RQUvDRWwaDLHMK-xCSh17A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kPry_RQUvDRWwaDLHMK-xCSh17A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kPry_RQUvDRWwaDLHMK-xCSh17A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-5745394377607767877</guid><pubDate>Wed, 08 Jun 2011 03:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-06-07T20:52:35.648-07:00</atom:updated><title>Let's face it...</title><atom:summary>...right now, my life is happening over here.  I have been terrible about updating here with little excuse except for lack of time.  Truly, our lives have been wrapped up in house-building land, with a sprinkling of fun times over Lilly's second birthday and a weekend at Leakey with the Trevino's.  I love the start of summer; it makes my heart smile and my soul feel free.  There are so many </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/06/lets-face-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X9B-cQ_UdQA/Te7x2GEWEbI/AAAAAAAACCQ/1bAXtRF1tWc/s72-c/DSC_0648.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mdH2a2SukRU6ZROHnT2cqhByxoQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mdH2a2SukRU6ZROHnT2cqhByxoQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mdH2a2SukRU6ZROHnT2cqhByxoQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mdH2a2SukRU6ZROHnT2cqhByxoQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-1176627205344935764</guid><pubDate>Sat, 30 Apr 2011 04:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-04-29T21:00:46.536-07:00</atom:updated><title>Fonda Found One</title><atom:summary>Fonda Found One, originally uploaded by marysia02.It was her first Easter where she had a hunch about what was going on.  Candy is her new favorite past time.  Apple doesn't fall far.</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/04/fonda-found-one.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5145/5671496320_ea2d711ecd_t.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pKqDCP__fJUiRuEBqKzsp91y9w8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pKqDCP__fJUiRuEBqKzsp91y9w8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pKqDCP__fJUiRuEBqKzsp91y9w8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pKqDCP__fJUiRuEBqKzsp91y9w8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-1625916193208901604</guid><pubDate>Fri, 15 Apr 2011 03:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-04-14T21:03:17.784-07:00</atom:updated><title>I've spent the last hour of my life laughing continuously. Again.</title><atom:summary>In love and peeing in my pants.  I heart you Keenan.And on another note, Portlandia.  Making fun of hipsters is the new sick.Laughter is the best medicine.</atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/04/ive-spent-last-hour-of-my-life-laughing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/lm_n3hg-Gbg/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VvBTE3PCAI5hJ_H9_R7pZiDuMPY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VvBTE3PCAI5hJ_H9_R7pZiDuMPY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VvBTE3PCAI5hJ_H9_R7pZiDuMPY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VvBTE3PCAI5hJ_H9_R7pZiDuMPY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18773728.post-3988742840955402338</guid><pubDate>Thu, 17 Mar 2011 02:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-03-27T20:07:20.921-07:00</atom:updated><title>Hammy, Ham, Ham</title><atom:summary>Lilly did a photo shoot recently for my friend Megan's custom blanket business, Mia Dolce Originals. Seeing all her stuff makes me want to run out and take sewing lessons (with a machine) because I think I would be addicted if I had the skill/time/patience to learn. For now, I'll have to stick to buttons and minor hem work (by hand, what on earth is a bobbin?). There were two days of shoots, and </atom:summary><link>http://limesaregreatfruits.blogspot.com/2011/03/hammy-ham-ham.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (I'm Marysia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o6iASV5Lubc/TYF0aIiAjoI/AAAAAAAABvE/KbgwYQZVaNw/s72-c/Lilly%2BMDO%2BShoot%2B-%2B20110304_0336.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><description>
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ltfUH3zKCGs1KZe8ry3sNDTMlJE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ltfUH3zKCGs1KZe8ry3sNDTMlJE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ltfUH3zKCGs1KZe8ry3sNDTMlJE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ltfUH3zKCGs1KZe8ry3sNDTMlJE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>

