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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="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" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C08HQXo8eyp7ImA9WhRWFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485</id><updated>2012-01-02T22:23:50.473-08:00</updated><category term="DAR" /><category term="LW" /><category term="Austin Love Affair" /><category term="Glamour Girl" /><category term="The Farm" /><category term="SCA" /><category term="Contest; Photography" /><category term="Photography" /><category term="Lone Wolf" /><category term="Tweedles" /><category term="Life As I Live It" /><category term="Home Supplementing" /><category term="Archery" /><category term="Armenian Cooking" /><category term="Evil Stepmonster" /><title>Seriously... Thoughts?</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>154</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/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/SeriouslyThoughts" /><feedburner:info uri="seriouslythoughts" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QFRn44cSp7ImA9WhZRFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-6855636361674424780</id><published>2011-04-10T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T10:08:37.039-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-10T10:08:37.039-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><title>Butterflies</title><content type="html">On Friday morning, Bunny's school had a music concert (which I'll post about tomorrow).&amp;nbsp; After the concert we walked past her classroom so I could own up to the fact that I had been a terrible Room Mom over the last few months.&amp;nbsp; Seriously, I have been way too caught up in my own work drama and ignoring my responsibilities to Bunny's classroom.&amp;nbsp; I thought maybe, right before Spring Break, I could own up to it and get myself back on track by checking in with her teacher (who BTW, is amazing).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After apologizing profusely and asking if there was anything I could do to help, we were gifted with the class chrysalides.&amp;nbsp; For those of you not in the know, a chrysalis is the little home caterpillars make to turn into butterflies.&amp;nbsp; More than one chrysalis is called chrysalides.&amp;nbsp; See how I'm learning stuff every day.&amp;nbsp; Don't feel bad if you didn't know this already, I had to look it up myself!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Turns out, they were likely to "hatch" while everyone was on Spring Break next week, and no one would be around to make sure they had some flowers sprayed with sugar water to eat.&amp;nbsp; So home they came with us.&amp;nbsp; I had planned on taking "before" photos today after church.&amp;nbsp; However, our wee little butterflies had different plans.&amp;nbsp; This morning when we woke up, we found two of the 6 little fellas (ladies?) had come out to spread their wings. (Forgive the photos, they're in a plastic and mesh container that was really hard to get a good shot through.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6YlLYtqevVk/TaHhiKjnL0I/AAAAAAAABB0/t4rKDAVBWZ8/s1600/IMG_5703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6YlLYtqevVk/TaHhiKjnL0I/AAAAAAAABB0/t4rKDAVBWZ8/s400/IMG_5703.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This little guy we noticed first.&amp;nbsp; Cute isn't he?&amp;nbsp; I think he might actually be a moth not a butterfly, but I'm not to clear on the distinction, so I'll wait to hear what Bunny's teacher has to say.&amp;nbsp; This was one of two wild caterpillars the kids caught on the school campus.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--87U2T87Hmo/TaHhjszvtFI/AAAAAAAABB8/JbNzMOi4bmg/s1600/IMG_5707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--87U2T87Hmo/TaHhjszvtFI/AAAAAAAABB8/JbNzMOi4bmg/s400/IMG_5707.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then we noticed this fella.&amp;nbsp; He has the most beautiful orange wings! Butterfly for sure.&amp;nbsp; This is one of the caterpillars Bunny's teacher purchased expressly to show the kids the process. Also notice in the lower right hand corner the pretty and big orange flower we drenched in sugar water to feed our new friends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bunny and Bug have been really excited about our new guests.&amp;nbsp; Even GG, the Hubs and myself are suitably impressed with the wonders of nature.&amp;nbsp; I'm so glad we got to babysit and witness first hand this event.&amp;nbsp; We're going to keep an eye on the rest of them this weekend and maybe we'll catch one actually hatching.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-6855636361674424780?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/8GqLVQRW6I8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6855636361674424780/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/04/butterflies.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/6855636361674424780?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/6855636361674424780?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/8GqLVQRW6I8/butterflies.html" title="Butterflies" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6YlLYtqevVk/TaHhiKjnL0I/AAAAAAAABB0/t4rKDAVBWZ8/s72-c/IMG_5703.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/04/butterflies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcDQng4fCp7ImA9WhZSFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-3727267425333264179</id><published>2011-03-30T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T19:21:13.634-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-30T19:21:13.634-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>Is There Anything Sweeter than a Country Church?</title><content type="html">This is my Grandmother's Church.&amp;nbsp; And since I was baptized there, it's my church too.&amp;nbsp; Although, can either my Grandmother or I still claim this as our church since my Grandma passed away a while ago and I live half a country away?&amp;nbsp; I think yes.&amp;nbsp; If home is where your heart is, then I think a church can be too.&amp;nbsp; Don't you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wzc7s1wFQ20/TZPkv3qPYfI/AAAAAAAABBw/9ATwt7W3o8E/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wzc7s1wFQ20/TZPkv3qPYfI/AAAAAAAABBw/9ATwt7W3o8E/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0029.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Although, even this country church has come a long way from when I was a kid.&amp;nbsp; To start, this half on the right, it didn't exist when I was a kid.&amp;nbsp; When I was a kid, it was just the main chapel with open crawl space underneath.&amp;nbsp; Under the church was a great place to catch crickets and lizards.&amp;nbsp; And yes, I managed to do both in a dress, and still be lady-like.&amp;nbsp; Sorta.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7s9tAWzj9Jc/TZPku6RV41I/AAAAAAAABBs/JdRxxcO8_J0/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7s9tAWzj9Jc/TZPku6RV41I/AAAAAAAABBs/JdRxxcO8_J0/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0028.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The original church also used to have out-houses out back.&amp;nbsp; We didn't  use them of course, the Church had indoor plumbing by then.&amp;nbsp; And out back, we used to have picnic tables under a porch where we'd celebrate during revival. Mmmmm.&amp;nbsp; Cornbread, fried chicken, black eyed peas and deviled eggs.&amp;nbsp; I can smell the southern cooking now!&amp;nbsp; That's all done in the new addition now.&amp;nbsp; It has a lot of indoor seating and a lovely kitchenette space.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4jUV3fnJa2U/TZPktv1jMSI/AAAAAAAABBo/9jWSwryw_fM/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4jUV3fnJa2U/TZPktv1jMSI/AAAAAAAABBo/9jWSwryw_fM/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0030.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But one thing that hasn't changed?&amp;nbsp; The view.&amp;nbsp; Something about this view always makes me feel closer to God and at one with the nature around me.&amp;nbsp; And if you look really hard, you can see the farm from here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-3727267425333264179?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/NYMF0hW5mHc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3727267425333264179/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/is-there-anything-sweeter-than-country.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/3727267425333264179?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/3727267425333264179?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/NYMF0hW5mHc/is-there-anything-sweeter-than-country.html" title="Is There Anything Sweeter than a Country Church?" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wzc7s1wFQ20/TZPkv3qPYfI/AAAAAAAABBw/9ATwt7W3o8E/s72-c/110107_FarmStructures_0029.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/is-there-anything-sweeter-than-country.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQAQX8yfyp7ImA9WhZTFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-9203145468038428023</id><published>2011-03-20T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T09:09:00.197-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-20T09:09:00.197-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><title>Progression</title><content type="html">LW took the Tweedles out hiking a few weeks ago.&amp;nbsp; Here is just a few minutes in the lives of the Tweedles.&amp;nbsp; Enjoy the progression.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1TbbDiP8Y78/TYYkzPk1xsI/AAAAAAAABBc/HLHDdxvRJy8/s1600/2011-02-12_16-47-19_194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1TbbDiP8Y78/TYYkzPk1xsI/AAAAAAAABBc/HLHDdxvRJy8/s400/2011-02-12_16-47-19_194.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rqgmQLz-bzw/TYYk2-yCQsI/AAAAAAAABBg/vqAiSPWyk3c/s1600/2011-02-12_16-47-24_644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rqgmQLz-bzw/TYYk2-yCQsI/AAAAAAAABBg/vqAiSPWyk3c/s400/2011-02-12_16-47-24_644.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--by-xBVmCPQ/TYYkvPwyL0I/AAAAAAAABBY/YUrNTNgYGa0/s1600/2011-02-12_16-47-32_165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--by-xBVmCPQ/TYYkvPwyL0I/AAAAAAAABBY/YUrNTNgYGa0/s400/2011-02-12_16-47-32_165.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-JYXhGuJJWWk/TYYk65v_9DI/AAAAAAAABBk/_3j2KeB1YB4/s1600/2011-02-12_16-47-28_356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-JYXhGuJJWWk/TYYk65v_9DI/AAAAAAAABBk/_3j2KeB1YB4/s400/2011-02-12_16-47-28_356.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-9203145468038428023?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/wbTgQkQ0RpI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9203145468038428023/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/progression.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/9203145468038428023?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/9203145468038428023?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/wbTgQkQ0RpI/progression.html" title="Progression" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1TbbDiP8Y78/TYYkzPk1xsI/AAAAAAAABBc/HLHDdxvRJy8/s72-c/2011-02-12_16-47-19_194.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/progression.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUDQHs4eCp7ImA9Wx9aFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-5626345304166776928</id><published>2011-03-08T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T16:24:31.530-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-08T16:24:31.530-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><title>He's a Bielieber</title><content type="html">Unless you've been hiding under a rock lately, you know who Justin Bieber is.&amp;nbsp; Love him or hate him, you can't deny he's a rising star.&amp;nbsp; And Bug?&amp;nbsp; He a Bielieber (what the fans call themselves).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Hoodie wearing, foot tappin' and all.&amp;nbsp; Is it any wonder why I love that kid?&amp;nbsp; (&lt;i&gt;Sorry the video is sideways.&amp;nbsp; LW took this with her phone and I don't know if it's even possible to turn i&lt;/i&gt;t).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-5626345304166776928?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/J3d9IePST9s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5626345304166776928/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/hes-bielieber.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5626345304166776928?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5626345304166776928?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/J3d9IePST9s/hes-bielieber.html" title="He's a Bielieber" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/hes-bielieber.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEHQXwyeyp7ImA9Wx9aEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-2828384695311170542</id><published>2011-03-03T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T21:47:10.293-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-03T21:47:10.293-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Can't Stop Smiling!</title><content type="html">I submitted a photo - granted, not mine as I'm actually in it - to Ree over at &lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/photography/"&gt;The Pioneer Woman&lt;/a&gt; for her photo contest.&amp;nbsp; (&lt;i&gt;If you know me, or followed this blog even a little bit, you'll know that she was the inspiration for me to start this blog and to really work on my photography.&lt;/i&gt;) The theme was "Sisters".&amp;nbsp; I submitted the one below of me and my older sister Teri who passed away two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1CP38DHNrpc/TXB8SykIkNI/AAAAAAAABBU/iDfeTiLeea8/s1600/5490855054_306965cc5d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1CP38DHNrpc/TXB8SykIkNI/AAAAAAAABBU/iDfeTiLeea8/s400/5490855054_306965cc5d.jpg" width="262" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are 174,751 images currently submitted to this contest.&amp;nbsp; And Ree chose my picture (&lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/photography/2011/03/your-sister-photos-group-3/"&gt;follow this link to see!&lt;/a&gt;).&amp;nbsp; I can't stop smiling.&amp;nbsp; Thank you Ree.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-2828384695311170542?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/NLEmgCPRX8g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2828384695311170542/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/cant-stop-smiling.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2828384695311170542?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2828384695311170542?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/NLEmgCPRX8g/cant-stop-smiling.html" title="Can't Stop Smiling!" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1CP38DHNrpc/TXB8SykIkNI/AAAAAAAABBU/iDfeTiLeea8/s72-c/5490855054_306965cc5d.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/cant-stop-smiling.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAESXgzfip7ImA9Wx9aEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-4885735023959467497</id><published>2011-03-02T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T15:31:48.686-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-02T15:31:48.686-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Can You Believe I Live Like This?</title><content type="html">A few days ago, we celebrated The Hub's birthday.&amp;nbsp; Now, The Hubs, I think is a pretty typical man and had made several comments about not wanting us to do any sort of celebration.&amp;nbsp; I also think I'm a pretty typical woman, and that meant we would celebrate because I know that deep down, he loves it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;At least, I think I know it. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Please forgive the quality of these images - I forgot my camera and had to use my phone and it's not a very good one).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our evening celebration started with dinner out to the &lt;a href="http://doghausdogs.com/"&gt;Dog Haus&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pDCQzR5Lh5g/TW7R651JqVI/AAAAAAAABAc/catdNlfQq9U/s1600/110227_BillsBday_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pDCQzR5Lh5g/TW7R651JqVI/AAAAAAAABAc/catdNlfQq9U/s400/110227_BillsBday_0011.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We'd been here before and loved the food.&amp;nbsp; They have a huge list of different gourmet hot dog choices as well as burgers and sandwiches, onion rings, hot dogs and tots.&amp;nbsp; And all of their burgers and hot dogs come surprisingly not on typical buns, but on Hawaiian Sweet Bread.&amp;nbsp; This makes for an amazing taste combination.&amp;nbsp; This is a favorite for everyone.&amp;nbsp; And in a family of 6, finding some place that we all like, is nothing short of a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We ordered our food and found a place to sit down and that's when things started to get&amp;nbsp; - well normal for us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-8bmRNpJ-HCs/TW7R8QR6KXI/AAAAAAAABAk/aOX9g8jqJFM/s1600/110227_BillsBday_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-8bmRNpJ-HCs/TW7R8QR6KXI/AAAAAAAABAk/aOX9g8jqJFM/s640/110227_BillsBday_0001.jpg" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GG started making a moustache out of her straw paper.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jmqMzeECNls/TW7R763PFrI/AAAAAAAABAg/uxwEwZrotH0/s1600/110227_BillsBday_0000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jmqMzeECNls/TW7R763PFrI/AAAAAAAABAg/uxwEwZrotH0/s640/110227_BillsBday_0000.jpg" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
LW contributed by making "Napkin Man" faces.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-qLAPI1hTmBk/TW7SBiiho5I/AAAAAAAABA8/IrO5dfMhxMU/s1600/110227_BillsBday_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-qLAPI1hTmBk/TW7SBiiho5I/AAAAAAAABA8/IrO5dfMhxMU/s640/110227_BillsBday_0007.jpg" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And The Hubs, vacillated between pretending he didn't know us..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-JztuFsDQvF0/TW7SAtr560I/AAAAAAAABA4/HQYxuMqVyi0/s1600/110227_BillsBday_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-JztuFsDQvF0/TW7SAtr560I/AAAAAAAABA4/HQYxuMqVyi0/s640/110227_BillsBday_0006.jpg" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And pretending he was some kind of cape crusader.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-n9Z_r7ORdUM/TW7SvFpCgMI/AAAAAAAABBM/gk8CxteAj6I/s1600/2011-02-27_18-01-27_835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-n9Z_r7ORdUM/TW7SvFpCgMI/AAAAAAAABBM/gk8CxteAj6I/s640/2011-02-27_18-01-27_835.jpg" width="358" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I worried about the influence they're having on the younger kids.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Can you believe I live like this?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-4885735023959467497?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/fCdtUTy-Vys" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4885735023959467497/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/can-you-believe-i-live-like-this.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/4885735023959467497?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/4885735023959467497?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/fCdtUTy-Vys/can-you-believe-i-live-like-this.html" title="Can You Believe I Live Like This?" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pDCQzR5Lh5g/TW7R651JqVI/AAAAAAAABAc/catdNlfQq9U/s72-c/110227_BillsBday_0011.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/03/can-you-believe-i-live-like-this.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YCSX05fCp7ImA9Wx9bGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-1264357621924687508</id><published>2011-02-28T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T18:06:08.324-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-28T18:06:08.324-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Jiggly</title><content type="html">I confess, I weigh a little more than I'd like.&amp;nbsp; I jiggle in a lot of places I'd rather not.&amp;nbsp; And Bug has this annoying habit of poking my fat.&amp;nbsp; I'd call it baby weight, but since the "baby" is now 3, I think that ship has sailed.&amp;nbsp; It's more like, chocolate cake, candy, and cooking from the &lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/"&gt;Pioneer Woman's cooking blog&lt;/a&gt; (today's chicken fried steak recipe looks amazing!).&amp;nbsp; Active farm folk, we are not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've spent the last year or so giving great though to what I should do with these few extra pounds and really pondering how I would get rid of them.&amp;nbsp; I didn't want to do anything rash like exercising or God forbid, stop eating chocolaty goodness. Oh, I knew exercise would have to come into play at some point mind you, I just didn't want it to be me riding a stationary bike to no where.&amp;nbsp; Or squish my fat into a bathing suit.&amp;nbsp; I wanted whatever I did to be fun as well as hidden in the comfort of my own home.&amp;nbsp; So, a few weeks ago, I started out slowly and warmed my Nintendo Wii back up and re-weighed myself with my Wii Fit so I'd know exactly how jiggly I was.&amp;nbsp; I even did some of the exercises one day.&amp;nbsp; You're proud of me, aren't you?&amp;nbsp; You should be!&amp;nbsp; I was sore for a week after that one 15 minute work out! However, since I never actually got to day two of my workout, I figured I needed something with a bit more fun value.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I introduced myself to Just Dance 2 for the Wii.&amp;nbsp; I brought it home one Saturday afternoon, and when Glamour Girl managed to pull her lazy bones out of bed, we put it in.&amp;nbsp; The first dance we did was a duet - meaning we both got to dance at the same time.&amp;nbsp; I have never laughed so hard in my entire life!&amp;nbsp; We both did.&amp;nbsp; We laughed, we danced, we laughed some more and an hour later she had to go spend time with her Grandmother and I spent another 1/2 hour dancing solo.&amp;nbsp; I was officially hooked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-h9wnVOg9jFo/TWxSGixJQII/AAAAAAAABAI/byQ1YNqhu1s/s1600/110227_JustDance2_0000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-h9wnVOg9jFo/TWxSGixJQII/AAAAAAAABAI/byQ1YNqhu1s/s400/110227_JustDance2_0000.jpg" width="276" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This really looked like it was going to be the answer to my jiggly prayers.&amp;nbsp; There's only one catch.&amp;nbsp; Everyone else seems to have caught Dance Fever!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Yg87sjihoG4/TWxSHiHslxI/AAAAAAAABAM/SKDBIb27BQQ/s1600/110227_JustDance2_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Yg87sjihoG4/TWxSHiHslxI/AAAAAAAABAM/SKDBIb27BQQ/s400/110227_JustDance2_0001.jpg" width="323" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Even my rhythm challenged LW got into the act.&amp;nbsp; I'd like to point out here, that only LW is actually "playing".&amp;nbsp; She's playing the game solo and is the only one with a Wii controller in her hand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9UM7SvW-_WU/TWxSIjC5cZI/AAAAAAAABAQ/d6mHkI9pq_c/s1600/110227_JustDance2_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="362" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9UM7SvW-_WU/TWxSIjC5cZI/AAAAAAAABAQ/d6mHkI9pq_c/s400/110227_JustDance2_0005.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The game is just so addictive, that GG couldn't help but get into the fun.&amp;nbsp; And Bunny was soon to follow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-aWujRANISrQ/TWxSJv7J5dI/AAAAAAAABAU/KvHQP9NVPO8/s1600/110227_JustDance2_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-aWujRANISrQ/TWxSJv7J5dI/AAAAAAAABAU/KvHQP9NVPO8/s400/110227_JustDance2_0008.jpg" width="318" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
If that wasn't enough to convince me that this was a game meant for us, here's a short video (Thank you H!) taken by my friend of Bunny and her guy friend G, getting down with their funky selves.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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I haven't laughed this much in a long time. They aren't very coordinated, but man did they have fun trying!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I can ever get to play, I think this just might be what me and my jiggly body need!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-1264357621924687508?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/qnmIrveXKeQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1264357621924687508/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/jiggly.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/1264357621924687508?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/1264357621924687508?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/qnmIrveXKeQ/jiggly.html" title="Jiggly" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-h9wnVOg9jFo/TWxSGixJQII/AAAAAAAABAI/byQ1YNqhu1s/s72-c/110227_JustDance2_0000.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/jiggly.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQCSXwyfip7ImA9Wx9bEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-7822655636691431114</id><published>2011-02-20T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T18:12:48.296-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-20T18:12:48.296-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>Private Eyes Are Watching You</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s86-VCiWhDM/TWHI-J0Ct3I/AAAAAAAAA_4/CoZXlrNclFM/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s86-VCiWhDM/TWHI-J0Ct3I/AAAAAAAAA_4/CoZXlrNclFM/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0032.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This road might look familiar.&amp;nbsp; At the end of it is one of my favorite falling down houses on property that was once owned by my Great Uncle T.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tAl6rnmzo-I/TWHJAV72mLI/AAAAAAAABAA/lIScVrKFGSM/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tAl6rnmzo-I/TWHJAV72mLI/AAAAAAAABAA/lIScVrKFGSM/s640/110107_FarmStructures_0040.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You might remember me telling you that this is a bit off the beaten path.&amp;nbsp; You have to leave regular roads and travel on a dirt road through to the other side of a state park to reach this bit of private property.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U14WDRv8fQA/TWHJBga_kLI/AAAAAAAABAE/_8lGCcFb9_U/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U14WDRv8fQA/TWHJBga_kLI/AAAAAAAABAE/_8lGCcFb9_U/s640/110107_FarmStructures_0041.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And even way out here, we have the neighborhood watch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8UCM4sYEfAQ/TWHI_LYeveI/AAAAAAAAA_8/EGhdw4HNboQ/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8UCM4sYEfAQ/TWHI_LYeveI/AAAAAAAAA_8/EGhdw4HNboQ/s640/110107_FarmStructures_0033.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-7822655636691431114?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/95Olw8wQluM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7822655636691431114/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/private-eyes-are-watching-you.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/7822655636691431114?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/7822655636691431114?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/95Olw8wQluM/private-eyes-are-watching-you.html" title="Private Eyes Are Watching You" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s86-VCiWhDM/TWHI-J0Ct3I/AAAAAAAAA_4/CoZXlrNclFM/s72-c/110107_FarmStructures_0032.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/private-eyes-are-watching-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ADRnY5fCp7ImA9Wx9bEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-115837937679813844</id><published>2011-02-18T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T08:09:37.824-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-19T08:09:37.824-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>America: Falling Down</title><content type="html">I'm 36 years old, married for the second time and mother/stepmother to four amazing kids.&amp;nbsp; I went to and graduated from, a State University and have a full time job.&amp;nbsp; I also do contract work for friends and family when they need me to.&amp;nbsp; I'm a member (albiet not a very good one this year) of the DAR and am going to be the PTA President of Bunny's school next year.&amp;nbsp; I pay my bills, keep the family organized and running smoothly, and I even clean bathrooms.&amp;nbsp; In a lot of ways though, I'm still a lot like a little kid.&amp;nbsp; I'm still trying to figure out what I want to "be" when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For a while I wanted to be a painter.&amp;nbsp; In high school, I learned to oil paint and man did I love it.&amp;nbsp; And I wasn't too bad if I do say so myself.&amp;nbsp; Later, in college I took a watercolor class and loved the challenge it represented.&amp;nbsp; I haven't painted in years though.&amp;nbsp; Too busy I guess and I recognize I lack the passion for it.&amp;nbsp; I liked it, but I don't love it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've dabbled with the idea of homeschooling my kids and the rewards and challenges that would go along with that.&amp;nbsp; I haven't followed through of course, in part because our family needs my working income, but also because I doubt I have the patience to be a very effective teacher.&amp;nbsp; Even for my own kids.&amp;nbsp; Patience is something that I struggle with daily and fail at more often than not.&amp;nbsp; I keep trying though!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For as long as I remember, I've wanted to be a writer.&amp;nbsp; A fiction writer specifically. In college, I briefly courted the idea of becoming an editor.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure why I strayed from that.&amp;nbsp; I guess because while I am definitely left brained in my approach to most things (organized, systematic and consistent), I have enough right brain influence that whatever I do in life has to have some measure of creativity.&amp;nbsp; And reading other people's creative outlets just didn't seem like enough to feed my own creative needs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Obviously, photographer is one of my dream jobs.&amp;nbsp; And this one might  even be achievable one day when I've taken about a million more photos  and really defined my take on the craft. Until then, I take as many photos as I can of things that I find interesting.&amp;nbsp; I love that I've found a way to blend a story with my photos in this blog. It gives me a purpose to my photos (which keeps my left brain happy) and an excuse to take a million more and share the stories behind them (happy right brain).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which brings me to these old homes that are in the area around the farm.&amp;nbsp; They've been around as long as I can remember making treks to the farm, and after being given some background on a few of them from the Awesome Uncle K, I know that several of them have been around a lot longer than I imagined.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MB3JzjVlBIA/TV6-lQVP5DI/AAAAAAAAA_I/c0WYkyVDxus/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MB3JzjVlBIA/TV6-lQVP5DI/AAAAAAAAA_I/c0WYkyVDxus/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0007.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I always wondered about these buildings.&amp;nbsp; Someone built a home for his family ages ago.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; They lived there, loved there, probably laughed and cried.&amp;nbsp; Babies were  likely born in those buildings and given the time period, some probably died there too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDUXd4mESXE/TV7Q6kp8uKI/AAAAAAAAA_0/3S3EPmSCsZw/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDUXd4mESXE/TV7Q6kp8uKI/AAAAAAAAA_0/3S3EPmSCsZw/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0008.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This house is on an old dirt road we called "tunnel road" as kids since the tree branches grew up over the road making a tunnel effect. We would take this road home late at night from church revivals (if we were good in church) and we would watch the stars occasionally peak in at us from behind the branches.&amp;nbsp; The road probably has a proper name, but I didn't bother looking for it.&amp;nbsp; It will always be tunnel road as far as I'm concerned.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i2qsUHclLmA/TV6-qL3epfI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/yN_5IpVzRCk/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i2qsUHclLmA/TV6-qL3epfI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/yN_5IpVzRCk/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0021.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is one of my favorites and always has been.&amp;nbsp; This is just a hop, skip and a jump (one street and a regular house lot) from a big lake that's in the area.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F3KC3_-E0F0/TV6-rZznvxI/AAAAAAAAA_c/LlLngyPE4hU/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F3KC3_-E0F0/TV6-rZznvxI/AAAAAAAAA_c/LlLngyPE4hU/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0026.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The front porch - or what's left of it - faces the rising sun and the lake.&amp;nbsp; What an amazing view they would have had each morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EttKVmzdAsE/TV6-s7OkPQI/AAAAAAAAA_g/LmAHgot6Eis/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EttKVmzdAsE/TV6-s7OkPQI/AAAAAAAAA_g/LmAHgot6Eis/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0027.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I imagine that it was a great location once upon a long time ago.&amp;nbsp; Water with plenty of fishing nearby, woods all around to hunt in before development really set in.&amp;nbsp; I would love to be able to go back in time and see what this house was like when it was originally built.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSPAcRl2UtA/TV6-uSh_phI/AAAAAAAAA_o/c5aAKBABfkw/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSPAcRl2UtA/TV6-uSh_phI/AAAAAAAAA_o/c5aAKBABfkw/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0035.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This has also been one of my favorites for a long time.&amp;nbsp; Unlike the other houses that sit just off of roads that are still used regularly, this one sits on a piece of property my Great Uncle T used to own on the other side of a state forest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zNsR-jIXlE/TV6-kiSMmCI/AAAAAAAAA_E/vk-AMhHKgrs/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zNsR-jIXlE/TV6-kiSMmCI/AAAAAAAAA_E/vk-AMhHKgrs/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0040.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is a view of the house from only partway down the dirt road you have to take to get there.&amp;nbsp; There's actually two pieces of property down this way.&amp;nbsp; The house and the land at the end to the left used to be Great Uncle T's.&amp;nbsp; It was sold out of the family a while ago.&amp;nbsp; The land at the end to the right belongs to my Uncle S. - my mom's oldest brother.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PjJkfK1be10/TV6-thwviPI/AAAAAAAAA_k/l2XOViYpGgA/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PjJkfK1be10/TV6-thwviPI/AAAAAAAAA_k/l2XOViYpGgA/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0034.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Amazing Uncle K, told me this used to be a regular stop for the local stage coach.&amp;nbsp; Now it mostly houses an assortment of critters and hay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kECMO40OUbg/TV6-vc8dpeI/AAAAAAAAA_s/cHjsHbhmZ4s/s1600/110107_FarmStructures_0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kECMO40OUbg/TV6-vc8dpeI/AAAAAAAAA_s/cHjsHbhmZ4s/s400/110107_FarmStructures_0037.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This all of course, leads me to my latest "when I grow up" job.&amp;nbsp; I want to tour the country - maybe even the world - taking pictures of these old falling down homes.&amp;nbsp; I want to talk to the locals to find out the histories of each of the homes, and when I have enough, I want to publish a coffee table book with my photos and those stories.&amp;nbsp; I'll call it, America: Falling Down.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;I claim all copyrights to this idea and the title.&amp;nbsp; Don't steal my idea or I'll.. well, I'll cry and then you'll feel bad. Honest, you will!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; I don't think it will make the best seller list or anything, but it sure would be fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-115837937679813844?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/CcUBvx_PorM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/115837937679813844/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/america-falling-down.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/115837937679813844?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/115837937679813844?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/CcUBvx_PorM/america-falling-down.html" title="America: Falling Down" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MB3JzjVlBIA/TV6-lQVP5DI/AAAAAAAAA_I/c0WYkyVDxus/s72-c/110107_FarmStructures_0007.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/america-falling-down.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUHRHcyfip7ImA9Wx9UGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-790651238270690603</id><published>2011-02-16T16:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T16:57:15.996-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-16T16:57:15.996-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LW" /><title>Come on Baby, Lets Do The Twist!</title><content type="html">Did I mention before that in exchange for keeping her on our phone plan, LW comes over a few times a week to play with the little kids.&amp;nbsp; When we started this about 4 years ago, it was a good way for LW to keep her phone and yet still have to do something to be responsible for it.&amp;nbsp; And, it was a way for me to keep LW active in Bunny, and later Bug's, lives.&amp;nbsp; With a 17 and 19 year age gap to Bug and Bunny respectively, and with LW not living at home anymore, it was important to me for them to get to see her as much as they could now.&amp;nbsp; Who knows where her life will lead her as she grows into adulthood, and while we have her in the same city, at the same time, I wanted to nurture their bond as much as I could.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In theory, it was her job to come over and "wear them out" for an hour.&amp;nbsp; Originally it was to tire them out so they'd take their naps.&amp;nbsp; Now it's to get them out of The Hubs and My collective hair for a bit during the day.&amp;nbsp; Most of the time, since Bunny is now in full day Kinder, LW just spends an hour with Bug.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes though, she'll come a little later in the day and take the both out.&amp;nbsp; A good deal of the time "out" is simply in our back yard either kicking a ball around, or playing chase or generally being loud and energetic.&amp;nbsp; Very rarely she takes them to the park.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately for The Tweedles, she seems to have an aversion to the park.&amp;nbsp; A lot of the time though, she takes them out to a local canyon where they can hike around and play in the small stream that runs through it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Does anyone remember the movie A River Runs Through It?&amp;nbsp; Oh Brad.. you are a dream. If you've never seen the movie, go rent it.&amp;nbsp; Go on.&amp;nbsp; I'll wait.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And all of this is perfect.&amp;nbsp; Only sometimes, even in So Cal, it rains.&amp;nbsp; This really limits what LW can do with them.&amp;nbsp; I mean, The Hubs is usually studying during the day, and I'm working so it's not like they can run around screaming and chasing each other through the house.&amp;nbsp; Oh yeah, and as a reminder, this is a 1200 sf house, so it's not like we have extra space or a "play room" .&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Oh.. how I dream of a playroom.&amp;nbsp; One specifically on another floor to my office.&amp;nbsp; One where I can simply shut the door to hide the disaster they can create in mere moments, instead of that disaster taking place in my living room. If we moved to Austin, I bet we'd have a play room.&amp;nbsp; I love Austin.&amp;nbsp; I love play rooms.&lt;/i&gt; Anyway, today it rained. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So LW, waded into GG's messy room and retrieved... TWISTER.&amp;nbsp; Inside game? Check.&amp;nbsp; Learning game? Check.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Does it get any better than this people?&amp;nbsp; Why didn't I think of this sooner?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RdXptR-GT6I/TVxwlZhsojI/AAAAAAAAA-s/oDR6dabU5jY/s1600/110216_Twister_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="325" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RdXptR-GT6I/TVxwlZhsojI/AAAAAAAAA-s/oDR6dabU5jY/s400/110216_Twister_0001.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
LW laid it all out and they took turns being the person to spin the dial and being the person on the mat.&amp;nbsp; When it was Bug's turn to be spinner he had to figure out what color and what body part LW was suppose to move around.&amp;nbsp; LW usually helped him out with this.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes contorting her body to help him figure out what she was suppose to do next, was &lt;strike&gt;entertaining&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp; hard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yYUOJThptd0/TVxwmSH9xmI/AAAAAAAAA-w/J8jtoQXVXY4/s1600/110216_Twister_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="322" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yYUOJThptd0/TVxwmSH9xmI/AAAAAAAAA-w/J8jtoQXVXY4/s400/110216_Twister_0002.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When it was Bug's turn to be on the mat, he had to figure out which hand/foot was right or left, and which color to put it on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szFpFIKbpX8/TVxwnlZREZI/AAAAAAAAA-0/lOR6x85iais/s1600/110216_Twister_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="381" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szFpFIKbpX8/TVxwnlZREZI/AAAAAAAAA-0/lOR6x85iais/s400/110216_Twister_0004.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes he needed help just trying to figure out how to stretch and twist his body to get it where he wanted it.&amp;nbsp; Thank goodness for big sisters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bV7r75JZ2I8/TVxwptgFWqI/AAAAAAAAA-8/8XyZKoUOyXc/s1600/110216_Twister_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="335" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bV7r75JZ2I8/TVxwptgFWqI/AAAAAAAAA-8/8XyZKoUOyXc/s400/110216_Twister_0008.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And my little man really got into this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1lJrGQVxcxo/TVxwkXQnkiI/AAAAAAAAA-o/IcIbF8xfvqI/s1600/110216_Twister_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1lJrGQVxcxo/TVxwkXQnkiI/AAAAAAAAA-o/IcIbF8xfvqI/s400/110216_Twister_0010.jpg" width="353" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He didn't always get the colors, or know his right from his left.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2kzpDY9RkM/TVxwqWABjKI/AAAAAAAAA_A/y-lQ56XNOPs/s1600/110216_Twister_0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="302" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2kzpDY9RkM/TVxwqWABjKI/AAAAAAAAA_A/y-lQ56XNOPs/s400/110216_Twister_0009.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;But he sure did laughed a lot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-790651238270690603?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/VlV3LrXsHLM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/790651238270690603/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/come-on-baby-lets-do-twist.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/790651238270690603?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/790651238270690603?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/VlV3LrXsHLM/come-on-baby-lets-do-twist.html" title="Come on Baby, Lets Do The Twist!" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RdXptR-GT6I/TVxwlZhsojI/AAAAAAAAA-s/oDR6dabU5jY/s72-c/110216_Twister_0001.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/come-on-baby-lets-do-twist.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYHQXo8eip7ImA9Wx9UFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-2896576979495088415</id><published>2011-02-11T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T19:08:50.472-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-11T19:08:50.472-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Say.. Cheese!</title><content type="html">On the last day before we left the farm, I gathered up The Old People and Uncle K along with the kids and The Hubs and dragged them outside for some family photos.&amp;nbsp; I do not have a single picture of my parents in my house.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;It's tragic I tell you.&amp;nbsp; Tragic.&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; And I was determined to fix this problem.&amp;nbsp; In fact, I was going to fix it a few months prior when they were out visiting.&amp;nbsp; I had it all planned out with a trip to the LA Arboretum.&amp;nbsp; My Old Guy however, wasn't cooperating and got sick again cutting their trip short.&amp;nbsp; They were not going to evade me or my camera this time!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first shots I tried to get of them, failed miserably.&amp;nbsp; I brought my Old People out first to see if I could get a nice shot of them.&amp;nbsp; In addition to not loving the rather flat background of fields and trees, I ended up with this shot.&amp;nbsp; I believe my exact words were "Pretend you like each other."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CkIxnXDZs48/TVX10V_i3wI/AAAAAAAAA94/KlbwzYqV0DE/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CkIxnXDZs48/TVX10V_i3wI/AAAAAAAAA94/KlbwzYqV0DE/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0032.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ew.&amp;nbsp; Kids should not see their parents kiss like this.&amp;nbsp; Ever.&amp;nbsp; I seriously think I've been scarred for life by this one shot alone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--m_2D-xWpIc/TVX11CnD2qI/AAAAAAAAA98/Mn2BLDMX0fE/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--m_2D-xWpIc/TVX11CnD2qI/AAAAAAAAA98/Mn2BLDMX0fE/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0035.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then they made up for it and I got this pretty shot of them with their eyes closed.&amp;nbsp; They look happy.&amp;nbsp; They look content.&amp;nbsp; They look exhausted and relieved that my family and I are leaving the next day!&amp;nbsp; Wait a minute!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bITNSX_W3Dc/TVX11w1D8hI/AAAAAAAAA-A/xzYPjGlWDnk/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="262" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bITNSX_W3Dc/TVX11w1D8hI/AAAAAAAAA-A/xzYPjGlWDnk/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0037.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Here we go!&amp;nbsp; This is one I can put on the mantle.&amp;nbsp; Have I mentioned I love my Old People?&amp;nbsp; I still didn't love the background though, so I dragged everyone down to the pond to take photos on the dock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GbpJuxt-H9s/TVX2Squf-GI/AAAAAAAAA-I/o8_cwZeNwXc/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GbpJuxt-H9s/TVX2Squf-GI/AAAAAAAAA-I/o8_cwZeNwXc/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0038.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, getting this bunch of ya-hoo's to settle down was nearly impossible. Now, do you see what I have to work with people??&amp;nbsp; I'm amazed I ever get a good shot!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hjd1jr6JLAA/TVX2TvmbawI/AAAAAAAAA-M/wboQHQY0yZk/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hjd1jr6JLAA/TVX2TvmbawI/AAAAAAAAA-M/wboQHQY0yZk/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0041.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This shot was obviously completely unposed and I really love how it came out.&amp;nbsp; Other than the fact that they're sitting close together like they like each other, this could have been a candid.&amp;nbsp; In fact, I'd wager in some families - you know, the ones who actually enjoy each other's company - it might have happened naturally, instead of me threatening bodily harm for them to pose for me.&amp;nbsp; Ahh, I wonder what it's like in those families?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TH1nhXQ3YeQ/TVX2WLYXCMI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/DysEm67NLLA/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TH1nhXQ3YeQ/TVX2WLYXCMI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/DysEm67NLLA/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0046.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My Old Guy took this really nice shot of The Fam.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9YGMDY2eF64/TVX2VJM3DCI/AAAAAAAAA-U/HS4GPuLYL3Q/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9YGMDY2eF64/TVX2VJM3DCI/AAAAAAAAA-U/HS4GPuLYL3Q/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0044.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;When I tried to get a shot of the kids with the amazing Uncle K, everyone started making bunny ears.&amp;nbsp; Except for Uncle K who appears to be throwing gang signs.&amp;nbsp; You know he was born in So. Cal. right?&amp;nbsp; Uncle K is California gangsta baby!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oT4P9Gcg5-o/TVX3R4BwY1I/AAAAAAAAA-k/vLOUT1f-MRg/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oT4P9Gcg5-o/TVX3R4BwY1I/AAAAAAAAA-k/vLOUT1f-MRg/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0052.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My Old guy also took this great shot of "The Fam".&amp;nbsp; I actually really love how this shot came out.&amp;nbsp; Of course, I wish Bunny's hair was brushed out of her face, and GG wasn't so tall, and that I wasn't standing next to LW who's skinny self is making me look fat.&amp;nbsp; At least we look like a normal family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-29DObbRoonk/TVX2X2jNCoI/AAAAAAAAA-g/vnjXadaJvk0/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-29DObbRoonk/TVX2X2jNCoI/AAAAAAAAA-g/vnjXadaJvk0/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0050.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It's not like how we normally act.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-2896576979495088415?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/eDBUxpspC3s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2896576979495088415/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/say-cheese.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2896576979495088415?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2896576979495088415?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/eDBUxpspC3s/say-cheese.html" title="Say.. Cheese!" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CkIxnXDZs48/TVX10V_i3wI/AAAAAAAAA94/KlbwzYqV0DE/s72-c/110107_FarmFrun_0032.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/say-cheese.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUCRXgyeyp7ImA9Wx9UE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-5740359848158166478</id><published>2011-02-09T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T18:01:04.693-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-09T18:01:04.693-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>A Deer in Pig's Clothing</title><content type="html">I fully confess, that I've eaten "Bambi's Mom".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdn.venturebeat.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/bambi_mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://cdn.venturebeat.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/bambi_mom.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, I want to say for the longest time I didn't really understand that the yummy goodness we had only at the farm was deer meat.&amp;nbsp; Really.&amp;nbsp; My little mind couldn't make the leap from "deer meat" at dinner to "Bambi".&amp;nbsp; It just didn't.&amp;nbsp; Of course, now that I'm old enough to understand, I wouldn't stop eating it.&amp;nbsp; And I'm not only converting the Tweedles into loving it, but LW and GG too!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The very first Christmas I took LW and GG (along with The Hubs of course) to the farm was four years ago.&amp;nbsp; I wanted them to try it because it's another part of my childhood that I wanted to share with all of them.&amp;nbsp; Deer meat, black eyed peas and fried okra.&amp;nbsp; Uncle K, always the sweetest man, shared some he had in his freezer with us so we could all try some.&amp;nbsp; And turns out, I didn't need to do much convincing to get them to like it!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Well, maybe the fried okra wasn't so great, but the rest was dee-lish.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we went out over this last Christmas, I was bound and determined not only to have deer meat again for The Tweedles to try, but also to have fresh meat.&amp;nbsp; With my Cousin S on hand to lead the way, we went hunting.&amp;nbsp; And when I say "we" I use that term VERY loosely. So loosely in fact, I stayed home.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;What? It was cold outside!&amp;nbsp; And dark!&amp;nbsp; And did I mention it was cold?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;The whole week that my Cousin S was at the farm, only The Hubs saw something and due to a problem with his rifle, he wasn't able to shoot at the pretty deers.&amp;nbsp; We were all a little disappointed when Cousin S finally had to go home (no more so than Cousin S himself!).&amp;nbsp; But the troops were not to be deterred.&amp;nbsp; They went out faithfully early every morning (&lt;i&gt;while I stayed snuggled in my very warm bed&lt;/i&gt;) and every afternoon.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then one night, when we had just gotten used to them coming home empty handed, the boys (The Hubs and LW's boyfriend) came in happy with their success!&amp;nbsp; I was horribly let down to find out their success was with one of the wild pigs that roam the property, not my long hoped for deer meat.&amp;nbsp; They had come home to pick up the truck so they could go grab their prize.&amp;nbsp; A little while later, The Hubs came in from being up at the "shed" where they were cleaning their prize pig, and asked if I'd go up and see it.&amp;nbsp; I admit, I was reluctant.&amp;nbsp; I didn't want wild pig, I wanted deer meat.&amp;nbsp; But I didn't want to dampen their spirits.&amp;nbsp; I figured I would go up and congratulate them on the kill.&amp;nbsp; Give them their due as hunters, then go crawl in to bed and pray for the deers to please kindly come out of hiding so I could have deer meat on my trip to the farm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We walked up behind the house to the shed in the dark.&amp;nbsp; I held The Hubs hand trying not to fall over in the dark or worse yet, rub up against the hot wire (electric wire used to deter the cows from invading my parents yard). When we finally rounded the corner to the open side of the shed I glanced up with a purely fake smile in place to find.. a .. DEER!&amp;nbsp; Apparently everyone was in on the joke but poor old me.&amp;nbsp; Even my Uncle K who was sick and should have been in bed came out to make sure it got cleaned right.&amp;nbsp; I bounced around in circles I was so happy.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Then I think I might have also punched The Hubs in the stomach and told him not to play with my fragile female emotions like this again.&amp;nbsp; Maybe.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was so excited, I forgot to go grab my camera and take photos, but I did remember the next day when it was time to get down to the hard part of business.&amp;nbsp; Removing the fat and yucky parts from the meat.&amp;nbsp; Uncle K came over and after we got a table and chairs set up outside (thankfully the weather provided a wonderfully warm day) The Hubs, LW, her boyfriend, GG and the amazing Uncle K got to work.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;What? Where was I? I was um.. watching the Tweedles.&amp;nbsp; And making lunch.&amp;nbsp; And umm.. I was doing laundry and cleaning and umm. .yeah other stuff.&amp;nbsp; No I was not trying to get out of working on the deer, why do you ask?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmbITJM7Lhk/TVNEXaXb5AI/AAAAAAAAA9k/wTbXAyeuHDs/s1600/1101_Farm_0078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmbITJM7Lhk/TVNEXaXb5AI/AAAAAAAAA9k/wTbXAyeuHDs/s400/1101_Farm_0078.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Besides, someone had to photograph the event right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TyMK8VNrDus/TVNEaONYa4I/AAAAAAAAA9w/YwhYwxzKIsg/s1600/1101_Farm_0081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TyMK8VNrDus/TVNEaONYa4I/AAAAAAAAA9w/YwhYwxzKIsg/s400/1101_Farm_0081.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It all looks very tedious doesn't it?&amp;nbsp; I'm so glad I had so many other things to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hl-IWtXqddk/TVNEZERo6jI/AAAAAAAAA9s/UejM9v8XtLE/s1600/1101_Farm_0080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hl-IWtXqddk/TVNEZERo6jI/AAAAAAAAA9s/UejM9v8XtLE/s400/1101_Farm_0080.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Look at all of that beautiful meat.&amp;nbsp; I can almost smell it cooking and hear it sizzling in the pan.&amp;nbsp; YUM!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7GmZ_H7hSe4/TVNEYWUESsI/AAAAAAAAA9o/j1zqiS7cois/s1600/1101_Farm_0079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7GmZ_H7hSe4/TVNEYWUESsI/AAAAAAAAA9o/j1zqiS7cois/s400/1101_Farm_0079.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Of course, with all of this tedious work, someone may have gotten a little crazed.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully it was a passing moment and Uncle K settled right back down into his &lt;strike&gt;drudgery&lt;/strike&gt; work.&amp;nbsp; (&lt;i&gt;No GG's were harmed in the making of this deer meat&lt;/i&gt;).&amp;nbsp; See that cute boy in the back behind Uncle K?&amp;nbsp; That's LW's boyfriend.&amp;nbsp; Everyone wave!&amp;nbsp; He shot the pretty deer they're cutting up there.&amp;nbsp; Apparently he's from the mid-west and knows all about how this stuff is done.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eWeDc3DBmJ0/TVNEh3Xu_XI/AAAAAAAAA90/ctnSlkGpzJI/s1600/1101_Farm_0082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eWeDc3DBmJ0/TVNEh3Xu_XI/AAAAAAAAA90/ctnSlkGpzJI/s400/1101_Farm_0082.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Then we gathered up all the cut up meat into these handy freezer ready paper, taped them up and marked them with what type of meat it was and the date. And when I say we, I mean my Old People.&amp;nbsp; I needed to photograph it all you see.&amp;nbsp; We had our fresh dear meat the very next night.&amp;nbsp; And it was so worth all the hard work we did.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;And when I say we, I of course, mean them&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-5740359848158166478?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/OW3dsOz7Fmo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5740359848158166478/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/deer-in-pigs-clothing.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5740359848158166478?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5740359848158166478?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/OW3dsOz7Fmo/deer-in-pigs-clothing.html" title="A Deer in Pig's Clothing" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmbITJM7Lhk/TVNEXaXb5AI/AAAAAAAAA9k/wTbXAyeuHDs/s72-c/1101_Farm_0078.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/deer-in-pigs-clothing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8NRHo-eCp7ImA9Wx9UEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-1257216060364901627</id><published>2011-02-08T19:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T19:41:35.450-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-08T19:41:35.450-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Carmela's</title><content type="html">Today, we had the whole family together in one place (&lt;i&gt;I might explain why later.. keep watching&lt;/i&gt;) and when we were done doing that thing I'm not ready to tell you about yet, we all decided to go to this new ice cream place that just opened up nearby. &lt;i&gt;All of you SoCal readers take note!&lt;/i&gt; So LW, GG, The Tweedles, The Hubs and myself all drove on down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The place is called Carmela's Ice Cream.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It's a small shop, certainly not a national chain like Baskin Robbins so I wasn't sure what to expect.&amp;nbsp; We walked into this cute little shop and the first thing I notice is a big chalk board on one wall listing the ice cream flavors.&amp;nbsp; Pretty straight forward right?&amp;nbsp; It's an ice cream shop after all.&amp;nbsp; It was the names on the board that threw me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Salted Caramel&lt;br /&gt;
Brown Sugar Vanilla Bean&lt;br /&gt;
Dark Chocolate with Cacao Nib&lt;br /&gt;
Mint with Cacao Nib &lt;br /&gt;
Cucumber Sorbet&lt;br /&gt;
Cardamom&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cardamom?&amp;nbsp; Really?&amp;nbsp; Cucumber? Huh?&amp;nbsp; And what the heck is a Cacao (pronounced &lt;i&gt;kuh&lt;/i&gt;-kah-oh) Nib??&amp;nbsp; We aren't in Baskin Robbins anymore people.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Toto.. where's Auntie Em?&amp;nbsp; Anyone else see those ruby slippers?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Glenda? Is that you?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; I was immediately intrigued and I'm not afraid to admit it, a little nervous.&amp;nbsp; I think the really nice guy behind the counter could see my trepidation and readily offered up taster spoons of whatever we wanted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First up, The Hubs got a taster of the Dark Chocolate with Cacao Nibs.&amp;nbsp; Cacao Nibs are peeled and crushed cacao beans and taste chocolatey/nutty.&amp;nbsp; They're super yummy, so don't let the name throw you off.&amp;nbsp; I tasted a bit off of his spoon and was in dark chocolatey heaven.&amp;nbsp; The nibs even crunched a bit giving it a fun texture. The Hubs immediately announced he would take THREE scoops of the Dark Chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TVIKd_b0m_I/AAAAAAAAA9U/Avael4MdiuY/s1600/Chocolate_315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TVIKd_b0m_I/AAAAAAAAA9U/Avael4MdiuY/s400/Chocolate_315.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This photo stolen from Carmela's website.&amp;nbsp; Please don't sue me!&amp;nbsp; I forgot to take photos, I was too busy eating it!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
LW got a sample of the Brown Sugar Vanilla Bean.&amp;nbsp; I tasted a bit off of her spoon and was transformed into a creamy heaven.&amp;nbsp; It tasted similar to a regular vanilla bean ice cream, but had a warmer flavor mixed in from the brown sugar.&amp;nbsp; The Hubs then announced he would take THREE scoops of the Dark Chocolate.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GG then got a sample of the Mint with Cacao Nibs.&amp;nbsp; Surprisingly, this wasn't green like you would imagine most mint ice creams are.&amp;nbsp; It was a lovely white with dark nib bits mixed in.&amp;nbsp; I snagged a taste of this too (are we sensing a trend here?) and wow.&amp;nbsp; The mint and mix of the chocolatey tasting Cacao Nibs was subtle.&amp;nbsp; It felt very fresh and light.&amp;nbsp; Can ice cream feel fresh and light? Why yes, yes it can! The Hubs announced again he would take THREE scoops of the Dark Chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And finally, I got my very own taster spoon of the salted caramel and I  melted away into bliss.&amp;nbsp; Forget all those chocolatey, minty and  vanilla-y heavens, salted caramel is as dreamy as the name implies.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TVIKzPicVBI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/XmFSouSRjEQ/s1600/Carmela-Ice-Cream-trio-of-flavors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TVIKzPicVBI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/XmFSouSRjEQ/s400/Carmela-Ice-Cream-trio-of-flavors.jpg" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Another stolen image.&amp;nbsp; The front is the mint, behind that is the dark chocolate again and behind that I believe is the salted caramel.&amp;nbsp; YUM!&amp;nbsp; Again, please don't sue me.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Hubs, making sure we were done with samples, announced again that he wanted THREE scoops of the Dark  Chocolate with Cacoa Nibs.&amp;nbsp; LW went with the Brown Sugar Vanilla Bean  (along with both of The Tweedles).&amp;nbsp; GG and I both followed the hubs down  the Dark Chocolate route but with fewer scoops. All of the ice creams are made using farmer's market produce and clover organic milk on site.&amp;nbsp; They come in these cute cups (&lt;i&gt;or cones but we got cups&lt;/i&gt;) that look like they're probably biodegradable.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then, before we left, GG asked for a quick sampling of the Cardamom.&amp;nbsp; And well, since I had already tried all the others, I tried that one too.&amp;nbsp; WOW! That's all I have to say.&amp;nbsp; That, and I announced I would get Cardamom next time!&amp;nbsp; Then right before we were about to leave, the very nice man behind the counter told us that tomorrow they were going to have Strawberry Buttermilk flavor.&amp;nbsp; Apparently, every few days they like to mix things up and swap out flavors.&amp;nbsp; So now I might have to get Cardamom AND Strawberry Buttermilk tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I might not be losing weight any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ps.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;This is not a paid advertisement.&amp;nbsp; The only person on their staff that knows me is the very nice man behind the counter who probably only remembers me as the weirdo blond lady who kept stealing her family's taster spoons and drooling.&amp;nbsp; I just found this place to be too cute and too yummy not to share.&amp;nbsp; You can check out their website here: &lt;a href="http://carmelaicecream.com/"&gt;http://carmelaicecream.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-1257216060364901627?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/EHM7Gj6QvDo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1257216060364901627/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/carmelas.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/1257216060364901627?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/1257216060364901627?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/EHM7Gj6QvDo/carmelas.html" title="Carmela's" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TVIKd_b0m_I/AAAAAAAAA9U/Avael4MdiuY/s72-c/Chocolate_315.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/carmelas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkICQn4ycCp7ImA9Wx9UEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-5153526044094211970</id><published>2011-02-06T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T14:16:03.098-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-06T14:16:03.098-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Blue Ocean.. Blue Sky</title><content type="html">Yesterday, morning, we got up before the sun, packed up ourselves and dropped The Tweedles off at their Nanny's house to head down to San Diego.&amp;nbsp; We arrived down there to find it sunny and almost 70 degrees.&amp;nbsp; We met up with our friends who agreed to take us out on their sailboat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t6x-vpqI/AAAAAAAAA8c/SLRtqMvv_B8/s1600/IMG_5476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t6x-vpqI/AAAAAAAAA8c/SLRtqMvv_B8/s400/IMG_5476.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This photo was actually taken a few weeks ago when we were down there for another reason so GG's friend wasn't with us on this trip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t7okN3wI/AAAAAAAAA8g/mDj_V8t6Z6A/s1600/110205_Sailing_0000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t7okN3wI/AAAAAAAAA8g/mDj_V8t6Z6A/s400/110205_Sailing_0000.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But GG was.&amp;nbsp; She spent almost the entire trip on the front of the boat lounging around in her purple with white polka dot bikini listening to her ipod, reading her Cosmo magazine and generally ignoring &lt;strike&gt;the old folks&lt;/strike&gt; us.&amp;nbsp; Not a bad way to spend the Saturday after finals if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t8VQ4LWI/AAAAAAAAA8k/rYQZdc0G248/s1600/110205_Sailing_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t8VQ4LWI/AAAAAAAAA8k/rYQZdc0G248/s400/110205_Sailing_0003.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Our Captain for the day was Tamlin.&amp;nbsp; He might be in the middle of saying something here, or maybe he was making a smoochie face for the camera.&amp;nbsp; It's hard to tell with Tamlin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t9MqPGWI/AAAAAAAAA8o/8Qpsd3FVsDg/s1600/110205_Sailing_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t9MqPGWI/AAAAAAAAA8o/8Qpsd3FVsDg/s400/110205_Sailing_0004.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
His lovely wife J joined us as well.&amp;nbsp; As you can see from the way she's dressed, that although it was sunny and almost 70, with the wind out on the ocean, it was a bit cold.&amp;nbsp; I personally had three layers including a jacket on, plus I huddled under a blanket most of the trip.&amp;nbsp; I only brought my hands out to snap these few photos and to drink my chick beer.&amp;nbsp; Yes, I drink chick beer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t95ry9eI/AAAAAAAAA8s/6umRgKkBsTo/s1600/110205_Sailing_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t95ry9eI/AAAAAAAAA8s/6umRgKkBsTo/s400/110205_Sailing_0005.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Hubs also came along and was looking pretty good.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Hey there handsome.&amp;nbsp; Wanna get married and have babies with me? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t-guBiXI/AAAAAAAAA8w/USJEZ811TG8/s1600/110205_Sailing_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t-guBiXI/AAAAAAAAA8w/USJEZ811TG8/s400/110205_Sailing_0010.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We got to see a few of these, which I thought was pretty cool.&amp;nbsp; They have a light on top, and some of them make little noises to warn boats they're there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t_fYRvgI/AAAAAAAAA80/eaVgTc14B24/s1600/110205_Sailing_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t_fYRvgI/AAAAAAAAA80/eaVgTc14B24/s400/110205_Sailing_0013.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We saw a lot of these.&amp;nbsp; J named this one Oliver and when The Hubs threw out a chip for him to eat, suddenly about 10 more descended on us.&amp;nbsp; It was crazy scary like the movie The Birds.&amp;nbsp; Have you seen that movie?&amp;nbsp; You should.&amp;nbsp; Scary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t_61qNPI/AAAAAAAAA84/Mis3ZOoEceU/s1600/110205_Sailing_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t_61qNPI/AAAAAAAAA84/Mis3ZOoEceU/s400/110205_Sailing_0015.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We saw lots of little sail boats like Tamlin's, but we also saw some beautiful Yachts like this one.&amp;nbsp; The Hubs called dibs on this for when we win the lotto.&amp;nbsp; Quite frankly, that's the only way we'd ever be able to afford one of these lovely boats.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uBN63ydI/AAAAAAAAA9A/p-aNaXClrjE/s1600/110205_Sailing_0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uBN63ydI/AAAAAAAAA9A/p-aNaXClrjE/s400/110205_Sailing_0021.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We also happened to see this beauty while we were out.&amp;nbsp; Reminds me of what the ocean must have looked like way back in the day.&amp;nbsp; We think this might have The America - a replica of first vessel that won the famous America's Cup.&amp;nbsp; This sails tours as part of the &lt;a href="http://www.sdmaritime.org/"&gt;San Diego Maritime Museum&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uBxg2kxI/AAAAAAAAA9E/7tIwSAwNTz8/s1600/110205_Sailing_0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uBxg2kxI/AAAAAAAAA9E/7tIwSAwNTz8/s400/110205_Sailing_0023.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We mostly sailed out by Loma Point.&amp;nbsp; This is Loma Point.&amp;nbsp; It's pretty no?&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't mind living out there on the edge of nowhere.&amp;nbsp; Until the hurricanes come.&amp;nbsp; Or a tsunami.&amp;nbsp; Or an earthquake that drops the point into the ocean like Atlantis. Then I'd prefer to be in Austin.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uCt2jC0I/AAAAAAAAA9I/wCoYrEljxGg/s1600/110205_Sailing_0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uCt2jC0I/AAAAAAAAA9I/wCoYrEljxGg/s400/110205_Sailing_0029.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uDPo0jFI/AAAAAAAAA9M/PwZPCiha2gw/s1600/110205_Sailing_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7uDPo0jFI/AAAAAAAAA9M/PwZPCiha2gw/s400/110205_Sailing_0030.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Coincidentally, we were right near a Naval Base too, so we got to see a few of these flying around.&amp;nbsp; The Hubs took these shots and tells me this is a Black Hawk.&amp;nbsp; We also saw a submarine under repairs, and some Marine Corp Harriers,&amp;nbsp; E23 HawkEyes, and P3 Orions.&amp;nbsp; But that's just a bunch of boy stuff.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7z56Lx1oI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/CcoCM8ZqKlk/s1600/eg8pibdx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="145" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7z56Lx1oI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/CcoCM8ZqKlk/s320/eg8pibdx.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Next time we come back I really want to go on the &lt;a href="http://www.sdmaritime.org/"&gt;San Diego Maritime Museum&lt;/a&gt; tour of The HMS Surprise. Now THAT is a sailboat.&amp;nbsp; No offense Tamlin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-5153526044094211970?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/yy0m7dfOlX4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5153526044094211970/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/blue-ocean-blue-sky.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5153526044094211970?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5153526044094211970?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/yy0m7dfOlX4/blue-ocean-blue-sky.html" title="Blue Ocean.. Blue Sky" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TU7t6x-vpqI/AAAAAAAAA8c/SLRtqMvv_B8/s72-c/IMG_5476.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/blue-ocean-blue-sky.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUADQ307fip7ImA9Wx9VFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-997578514010563484</id><published>2011-02-02T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T12:16:12.306-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-02T12:16:12.306-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>Mayberry Ain't Got Nothin' On Us</title><content type="html">While we were visiting at the farm, The Tweedles got to go fishing for the very first time.&amp;nbsp; Now, please, bear in mind that they are only 5 and 3, so no, they didn't catch anything.&amp;nbsp; In fact, I think we spent more time getting them set up, than they did actually fishing.&amp;nbsp; But it was a fun experience none the less.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the afternoon of our last day, we put off nap time and gathered the kids up to go down to the Big Pond to fish.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm2zVISCII/AAAAAAAAA7w/SuAMxi7YJSc/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm2zVISCII/AAAAAAAAA7w/SuAMxi7YJSc/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0003.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Let me say here right up front, I do not fish.&amp;nbsp; That's not to say when I was younger spending summers at the farm, that I did not fish.&amp;nbsp; I did.&amp;nbsp; But I don't recall ever catching anything and frankly, sitting quietly waiting for the fish to bite was outside of my capabilities when I was young.&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt; A teacher might refer to me as "Energetic" but lets face facts, I was High-Strung. Of course, I'll deny that if anyone asks&lt;/i&gt;. But fishing is a farm experience I didn't want The Tweedles to miss out on, so The Hubs was awesome enough to show them how it's done so I could &lt;strike&gt;play with my camera&lt;/strike&gt; catch it all for posterity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm20S8mgAI/AAAAAAAAA70/AY7DB8Pv-Zw/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm20S8mgAI/AAAAAAAAA70/AY7DB8Pv-Zw/s640/110107_FarmFrun_0004.jpg" width="425" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The first thing The Hubs did after getting each of The Tweedles a pole, was realize that if they sat on the dock (&lt;i&gt;which my wonderful and amazing Uncle K built when my brother and his family was visiting so they could fish&lt;/i&gt;) they'd lose their boots in the pond.&amp;nbsp; So, off came the boots!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm21Mz8ZsI/AAAAAAAAA74/9hMWiON7KOs/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm21Mz8ZsI/AAAAAAAAA74/9hMWiON7KOs/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0005.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Then he got a fishing pole with a bobber for each of the kids and set them up to fish.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm229-vtVI/AAAAAAAAA8A/DV6Za_w4C6g/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm229-vtVI/AAAAAAAAA8A/DV6Za_w4C6g/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0007.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Bunny first, because she's the oldest, most annoying and has no patience to be second.&amp;nbsp; High-strung people, I have no idea where she gets it from.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm23ydITuI/AAAAAAAAA8E/IRf5xIwXt10/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm23ydITuI/AAAAAAAAA8E/IRf5xIwXt10/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0008.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Bug dutifully held his fishing pole for a good 5 minutes.&amp;nbsp; We were so proud.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm258wPIcI/AAAAAAAAA8M/AsEeZbd0EOE/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm258wPIcI/AAAAAAAAA8M/AsEeZbd0EOE/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0011.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Bunny watched The Hubs cast and reel a few times and wanted to do it herself.&amp;nbsp; The Hubs being the absolutely amazing father he is, sat down and taught her how to cast.&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt; He has way more patience than I do.&amp;nbsp; It's why I married him.&amp;nbsp; I needed someone to balance me out.&amp;nbsp; But I'll deny that if asked.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm26hvbFnI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/mgHwcc19Lc4/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm26hvbFnI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/mgHwcc19Lc4/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0012.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She didn't do so bad either!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm27-AXSLI/AAAAAAAAA8U/C5FQe7hu0Y4/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm27-AXSLI/AAAAAAAAA8U/C5FQe7hu0Y4/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0015.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And for a while there, they all fished in happy harmony.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm2yYVUR6I/AAAAAAAAA7s/M8PLAi5BIy8/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm2yYVUR6I/AAAAAAAAA7s/M8PLAi5BIy8/s640/110107_FarmFrun_0018.jpg" width="425" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Can I just stop here a second and tell you how much I love this photo.&amp;nbsp; There's just something about Bunny and The Hubs fishing together that really chokes me up and gets me all misty.&amp;nbsp; And her one pant leg rolled up just a little, and in her stocking feet.&amp;nbsp; I don't know why, but this one sure gets me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm21_MT0TI/AAAAAAAAA78/iZ5F9tRb9fc/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm21_MT0TI/AAAAAAAAA78/iZ5F9tRb9fc/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0006.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Of course, then one gets me too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm24o2Qz1I/AAAAAAAAA8I/a51SVVN7jBA/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm24o2Qz1I/AAAAAAAAA8I/a51SVVN7jBA/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0010.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And this one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Are you sure we can't move to Texas Hubs?&amp;nbsp; Hello?&amp;nbsp; Are you listening?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
These photos always make me start whistling the theme song to The Andy Griffth show and I get a clear visual of Opie walking barefoot on a dirt road with his fishing pole over his shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm20S8mgAI/AAAAAAAAA70/AY7DB8Pv-Zw/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm20S8mgAI/AAAAAAAAA70/AY7DB8Pv-Zw/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0004.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Opie's got nothing on my Bug though.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-997578514010563484?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/hZHbqXly43Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/997578514010563484/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/mayberry-aint-got-nothin-on-us.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/997578514010563484?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/997578514010563484?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/hZHbqXly43Q/mayberry-aint-got-nothin-on-us.html" title="Mayberry Ain't Got Nothin' On Us" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUm2zVISCII/AAAAAAAAA7w/SuAMxi7YJSc/s72-c/110107_FarmFrun_0003.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/mayberry-aint-got-nothin-on-us.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08DQn07fip7ImA9Wx9VFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-4188213151940015094</id><published>2011-02-01T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T17:57:53.306-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-01T17:57:53.306-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Glamour Girl" /><title>She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy</title><content type="html">One of the truly unique things about living out in the middle of nowhere, is that even before you get your license, heck even before you turn 16, you can drive.&amp;nbsp; Four years ago, when we took the family to the farm for Christmas, this was a huge deal for GG.&amp;nbsp; This year, even though she was 16, she still didn't have her license and it was still a big deal.&amp;nbsp; One of the very first things my wonderful and fun Uncle (&lt;i&gt;who will henceforth be called Uncle K because calling him just Uncle seemed weird to me&lt;/i&gt;) did, was put GG on a tractor.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi48qPtkvI/AAAAAAAAA7o/jF4V-2Qoj2E/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi48qPtkvI/AAAAAAAAA7o/jF4V-2Qoj2E/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0053.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It wasn't unusual to see this coming at you as you wandered through one of the fields.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi06QsFHZI/AAAAAAAAA7E/ISq0_2zi2x0/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi06QsFHZI/AAAAAAAAA7E/ISq0_2zi2x0/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0055.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It was a little unusual to see Uncle K hot-doggin' it on the tractor forks as GG brought the tractor down to the field.&amp;nbsp; Brave man my Uncle K.&amp;nbsp; He came along to give some instructions so that GG could do some work for him, all in the guise of "fun".&amp;nbsp; Man that Uncle K is slick!&amp;nbsp; He's like Tom Sawyer, I tell you!&amp;nbsp; Must be something those country boys learn early on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi0-eV4E9I/AAAAAAAAA7Q/Iztdt8lZR2w/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi0-eV4E9I/AAAAAAAAA7Q/Iztdt8lZR2w/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0061.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;His instructions were simple.&amp;nbsp; Bring the tractor into this little corral area where he was storing some hay bales, pick one up, and move it out for the cows.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi0_cyB_ZI/AAAAAAAAA7U/qL7bZhhAbp0/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi0_cyB_ZI/AAAAAAAAA7U/qL7bZhhAbp0/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0064.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sounds easy enough.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi1BeDZxgI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/3mIljhM2g3s/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi1BeDZxgI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/3mIljhM2g3s/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0065.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Except for one thing.&amp;nbsp; In all of her driving lessons with The Hubs, they never covered reverse.&amp;nbsp; If you blow up this image (just click on it to see the larger version) you'll see that she backed up the tractor forks right into the wire gate there.&amp;nbsp; &lt;span id="goog_1710671713"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1710671714"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi1Cm5mzGI/AAAAAAAAA7c/WMkpNKpL5Uk/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi1Cm5mzGI/AAAAAAAAA7c/WMkpNKpL5Uk/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0069.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Now let me tell you another thing about my Uncle K, he is the most patient, calm man I know.&amp;nbsp; I don't think I've EVER seen him lose his temper.&amp;nbsp; Not once.&amp;nbsp; So after letting her back up and pull forward and back up and pull forward and back into the gate, pull forward, back up so the tree limbs attacked her and pull forward again and we'd all had a really good laugh, he walked up and gave her some friendly and calm instructions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi1D3f_2NI/AAAAAAAAA7g/5nvMU4RCiLo/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi1D3f_2NI/AAAAAAAAA7g/5nvMU4RCiLo/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0071.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He even told her what a great job she was doing - especially for someone who hadn't ever done it before - and finally got her backed up to where she was suppose to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi08fnb0cI/AAAAAAAAA7I/qWLoH2IwN2c/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi08fnb0cI/AAAAAAAAA7I/qWLoH2IwN2c/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0075.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few more pointers later, and she backed right up to the bale and got it on the fork and in the air!&amp;nbsp; Not to shabby for a girl who hasn't even taken drivers ed yet!&amp;nbsp; I think we have a video of this, I'll try to get my hands on it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt; If I do manage to post it, please ignore the laughing people in the background!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously... Thoughts?&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-4188213151940015094?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/BdCTDKj7lnE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4188213151940015094/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/she-thinks-my-tractors-sexy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/4188213151940015094?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/4188213151940015094?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/BdCTDKj7lnE/she-thinks-my-tractors-sexy.html" title="She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUi48qPtkvI/AAAAAAAAA7o/jF4V-2Qoj2E/s72-c/110107_FarmFrun_0053.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/02/she-thinks-my-tractors-sexy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEEQ3o6eCp7ImA9Wx9VEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-2763912671628484632</id><published>2011-01-28T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T10:00:02.410-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-28T10:00:02.410-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LW" /><title>And That's No Bull!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A few times Uncle came to take us out to feed the cows, LW decided to come with us.&amp;nbsp; Now, if you know LW, you know she has to do things her own way - the path less traveled - the hard way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She apparently decided that she didn't need no stinkin' feeding trough.&amp;nbsp; She decided she was going to hand feed the bull.&amp;nbsp; Of course, she didn't realize at first that this whole feeding thing works much better if you actually have food.&amp;nbsp; Sorry Mr. Bull, she's really a blond.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLY41UenI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/-YuzRwIZ2BU/s1600/1101_Farm_0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLY41UenI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/-YuzRwIZ2BU/s400/1101_Farm_0009.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Ahh, there now, that's better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLZhgUkEI/AAAAAAAAA6c/j2kpEhgFLO4/s1600/1101_Farm_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLZhgUkEI/AAAAAAAAA6c/j2kpEhgFLO4/s400/1101_Farm_0013.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
See Mr. Bull checking to make sure she has food.&amp;nbsp; Fool him once shame on you.. fool him twice.. well, he's no fool.&amp;nbsp; But just to be on the safe side, he decides to check her out first.&amp;nbsp; Apparently, if you're a bull, you can tell a lot about a person with a few sniffs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLbFRNs0I/AAAAAAAAA6k/3IrR1om15KQ/s1600/1101_Farm_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLbFRNs0I/AAAAAAAAA6k/3IrR1om15KQ/s400/1101_Farm_0019.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
After this high-level background check, he decides to go in for the &lt;strike&gt;kill&lt;/strike&gt; food.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLacVAO8I/AAAAAAAAA6g/d3L9rbrKrh4/s1600/1101_Farm_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLacVAO8I/AAAAAAAAA6g/d3L9rbrKrh4/s400/1101_Farm_0015.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;And then he slips her the tongue - the sly dog.. er.. bull.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLfaZFZ3I/AAAAAAAAA64/uNGK1R2eqZc/s1600/1101_Farm_0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLfaZFZ3I/AAAAAAAAA64/uNGK1R2eqZc/s400/1101_Farm_0026.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then a little tongue turns into a full fledged tongue grope.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLevnsR2I/AAAAAAAAA60/JFwCNGxPD5s/s1600/1101_Farm_0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLevnsR2I/AAAAAAAAA60/JFwCNGxPD5s/s400/1101_Farm_0025.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This gives a whole new visual to the term "tongue lashing". &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLYJ6pj4I/AAAAAAAAA6U/CQZki0tLJPo/s1600/1101_Farm_0027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLYJ6pj4I/AAAAAAAAA6U/CQZki0tLJPo/s400/1101_Farm_0027.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But honestly, it's the big line of drool that really made this an experience to remember.. and that's no bull!&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp; Sorry! I couldn't help myself!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-2763912671628484632?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/sky4k6nInmw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2763912671628484632/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-thats-no-bull.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2763912671628484632?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2763912671628484632?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/sky4k6nInmw/and-thats-no-bull.html" title="And That's No Bull!" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUDLY41UenI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/-YuzRwIZ2BU/s72-c/1101_Farm_0009.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-thats-no-bull.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UEQXs-eip7ImA9Wx9VEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-351958505223831987</id><published>2011-01-27T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T10:00:00.552-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-27T10:00:00.552-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>Cow Feedin'</title><content type="html">My Uncle, who is not retired and has a very nice full time job with the local school district, took us out almost every day to give his cows feed pellets.&amp;nbsp; He keeps a small herd these days just for fun.&amp;nbsp; This herd is considerably smaller than what my Grandfather used to have on the property back in the day.&amp;nbsp; But like I said, he isn't trying to make a living off of these animals, he just really enjoys them.&amp;nbsp; And so do we Uncle.. so do we!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We'd start out walking behind the house towards the big pond around dusk and the cows would know exactly what we were up to and come a runnin'.&amp;nbsp; My Uncle has 4 concrete feeding troughs where he dumps feed pellets for the cows in the winter.&amp;nbsp; This gives them extra nutrients to help get them through the winter months.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7SL8HqjI/AAAAAAAAA58/yA-9D5eSqQw/s1600/1101_Farm_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7SL8HqjI/AAAAAAAAA58/yA-9D5eSqQw/s400/1101_Farm_0006.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
They come up all sweet and innocent, but deep down cows are ornery, fickle things.&amp;nbsp; So we had to be extra careful of The Tweedles to make sure they didn't get kicked by the cows.&amp;nbsp; Us too for that matter.&amp;nbsp; Ornery and fickle I say.&amp;nbsp; Especially bulls.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7S2HCNcI/AAAAAAAAA6A/rpqcMEaTCP0/s1600/1101_Farm_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7S2HCNcI/AAAAAAAAA6A/rpqcMEaTCP0/s400/1101_Farm_0011.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;You eyeballin' me son?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Who me? Nah.. and that's ma'am to you mister!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Uncle would put the pellets into little buckets to make it easier for the Tweedles to carry.&amp;nbsp; He'd hand each of the Tweedles a bucket and they'd go dump the pellets into one of the four concrete troughs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7Wd645BI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/mXUbdvgSWXo/s1600/1101_Farm_0050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7Wd645BI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/mXUbdvgSWXo/s400/1101_Farm_0050.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Apparently, once their buckets were emptied, that was some internal Tweedle signal to race back to Uncle to get another bucket.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure where they picked up the idea that it was a race, but race they did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7TyFA_1I/AAAAAAAAA6E/dsT1Xp2zAmw/s1600/1101_Farm_0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7TyFA_1I/AAAAAAAAA6E/dsT1Xp2zAmw/s400/1101_Farm_0037.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe they just missed Uncle?&amp;nbsp; Maybe they were afraid of the cows?&amp;nbsp; Although, it kinda looks like they were fleeing from The Hubs in this photo doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7UvO43cI/AAAAAAAAA6I/FwcnnCypbuo/s1600/1101_Farm_0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7UvO43cI/AAAAAAAAA6I/FwcnnCypbuo/s400/1101_Farm_0043.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Even The Old Guy got into the mix.&amp;nbsp; Although I don't think he raced.&amp;nbsp; Maybe he didn't know he was suppose to?&amp;nbsp; Or maybe he just wanted to let the Tweedles win?&amp;nbsp; Either way, I never saw him race.&amp;nbsp; Just wanted that to be clear.&amp;nbsp; The Old Guy did not race.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7VgkPUXI/AAAAAAAAA6M/8oqi7Gx-0zs/s1600/1101_Farm_0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7VgkPUXI/AAAAAAAAA6M/8oqi7Gx-0zs/s400/1101_Farm_0044.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Despite all of our antics, the cows enjoyed the meal very much - the pigs!&amp;nbsp; And I think The Tweedles really enjoyed it too.&amp;nbsp; Every day around dinner time as soon as Uncle would show up they'd run to him asking if it was time to feed the cows.&amp;nbsp; I even think secretly the Hubs and The Old Guy had a good time.&amp;nbsp; I know I did!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7RB6UeXI/AAAAAAAAA54/RScm_TOdqP0/s1600/1101_Farm_0058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7RB6UeXI/AAAAAAAAA54/RScm_TOdqP0/s400/1101_Farm_0058.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You just can't make these kinds of memories in the city people... you just can't.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-351958505223831987?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/NlgWscmvZ1g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/351958505223831987/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/cow-feedin.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/351958505223831987?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/351958505223831987?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/NlgWscmvZ1g/cow-feedin.html" title="Cow Feedin'" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUC7SL8HqjI/AAAAAAAAA58/yA-9D5eSqQw/s72-c/1101_Farm_0006.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/cow-feedin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQCSHc5eCp7ImA9Wx9VEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-127254497210330949</id><published>2011-01-26T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T17:56:09.920-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-26T17:56:09.920-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>To The Farm - The More Things Change...</title><content type="html">As previously mentioned, we scheduled our flight in the wee hours of Christmas morning.&amp;nbsp; We did this in part so the Tweedles would sleep through most of the  flight and we hoped, our wait at the airport.&amp;nbsp; Due to some troubles with  our boarding passes, which I won't get into because I'm still angry  enough to spit, we almost missed our outgoing 1AM flight despite  arriving at the airport 2.5 hours early.&amp;nbsp; But ultimately, we did make  our flight and arrived in Dallas around Noon.&amp;nbsp; My Dad (here forth known  as "The Old Guy"), picked us up at the airport and we made it to the  farm a bit before 4PM.&amp;nbsp; Just in time for Christmas dinner! YUM! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had to work the whole first week we were there, so I didn't get a chance to mingle with my visiting relatives as much as I would have liked.&amp;nbsp; This worked out well for the second week though when I was actually on vacation because I got to have a lot of downtime just with the family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can't possibly put into words the feeling of comfort, welcoming and warmth I get from being on the farm.&amp;nbsp; As a child from a family that moved around a lot, the farm was a constant.&amp;nbsp; I knew no matter where we moved to, the farm would always be there with grandma and grandpa and cows and cousins.&amp;nbsp; We didn't have game stations, ipods, movies or internet.&amp;nbsp; Heck, I can remember having a single rotary phone for ages and ages!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUBynQVdjoI/AAAAAAAAA5k/qRHj8tguJUo/s1600/rotary-phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="197" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUBynQVdjoI/AAAAAAAAA5k/qRHj8tguJUo/s320/rotary-phone.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What we did have was cousins, uncles/aunts and my grandparents.&amp;nbsp; We had our imaginations and board games.&amp;nbsp; We had fishing and swimming and plain old tramping across the property. We had chickens to &lt;strike&gt;chase&lt;/strike&gt; feed and cows who had the cutest calves.&amp;nbsp; And we had an old bull we could ride on he was so tame!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So much has changed around the farm (not just the house) since I was a kid.&amp;nbsp; This visit we had movies (netflix and dvds), laptops, tablet games (&lt;i&gt;Angry Birds is soooo addictive!&lt;/i&gt;), computer games, and tv.&amp;nbsp; Loads of tv.&amp;nbsp; But some things didn't change.&amp;nbsp; My Uncle Keith - &lt;i&gt;who btw, is the best uncle in the whole wide universe and was always the "fun" one when I was a kid&lt;/i&gt; - came to visit every day.&amp;nbsp; He took us all out to feed admittedly, a much smaller herd of cattle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4g3oFQTI/AAAAAAAAA5s/OsX6EGgeXJQ/s1600/1101_Farm_0083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4g3oFQTI/AAAAAAAAA5s/OsX6EGgeXJQ/s400/1101_Farm_0083.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was still fishing at the big pond.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4fpWkZII/AAAAAAAAA5o/I-Cv_jn5PZA/s1600/1101_Farm_0075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4fpWkZII/AAAAAAAAA5o/I-Cv_jn5PZA/s400/1101_Farm_0075.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There were still cousins to play with - if only for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4ix7gUBI/AAAAAAAAA50/7eywmzuthDs/s1600/1101_Farm_0129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4ix7gUBI/AAAAAAAAA50/7eywmzuthDs/s400/1101_Farm_0129.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And there was plenty of property to tramp across (&lt;i&gt;this view is still only a small part of it but if you look really hard, you can see the house way in the back&lt;/i&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4h7rx8vI/AAAAAAAAA5w/cpc4Si4KuI0/s1600/1101_Farm_0115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUB4h7rx8vI/AAAAAAAAA5w/cpc4Si4KuI0/s400/1101_Farm_0115.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's amazing to me how things change, and how much they stay the same.&amp;nbsp; I still have the same feelings about the farm as when I was a kid.&amp;nbsp; I still feel happier and more relaxed there than anywhere else, even my own home.&amp;nbsp; And yet, the place is so changed from when I was a kid.&amp;nbsp; I can only hope that my kids (&lt;i&gt;ALL of my kids, even the big ones&lt;/i&gt;) find at least some measure of the joy from the farm that I have.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-127254497210330949?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/Sl7y-Han5_Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/127254497210330949/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/to-farm.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/127254497210330949?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/127254497210330949?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/Sl7y-Han5_Y/to-farm.html" title="To The Farm - The More Things Change..." /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TUBynQVdjoI/AAAAAAAAA5k/qRHj8tguJUo/s72-c/rotary-phone.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/to-farm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8CQHc6eip7ImA9Wx9WFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-5257624005700123384</id><published>2011-01-20T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T12:04:21.912-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T12:04:21.912-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>Twas the Morning Before Christmas..</title><content type="html">This Christmas was a little different from other years in that our plans were to travel early Christmas morning to the farm.&amp;nbsp; When I say early, I mean our flight out left at around 1AM.&amp;nbsp; That's right.&amp;nbsp; 1AM Christmas morning!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let me back up just a bit.&amp;nbsp; My point is, in order to accommodate our own Christmas morning rituals and gift opening to avoid having to ship everything to the farm and then subsequently, have to ship it all back, we had our "Christmas" morning on the morning of Christmas Eve.&amp;nbsp; LW slept over that night which always makes me unusually happy.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Although to protect my evil-stepmom rep, I'll deny that to my dying breath.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Having my whole family under the same roof at the same time is a rarity these days, and likely to become more so as LW exits college and enters the real world, and GG exits high school and enters college.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Wait.. wait.. it's all going too fast.. someone stop this train!!!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; LW had work Christmas Eve day so she slept over to allow us enough time to open gifts, appropriately oooh and ahhh over what we each got and just enjoy being a family for a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The morning started out EARLY.&amp;nbsp; Bug and Bunny came racing into our room at the crack of 6:30.&amp;nbsp; The sun was barely up.&amp;nbsp; Knowing the time limit we were on, we allowed them to "wake us up" instead of grumbling to them about it being too early and sending them back to their room to play until a more reasonable hour, which is what we usually do.&amp;nbsp; Instead, we wickedly sent them to wake their sisters.&amp;nbsp; There's nothing like two squealing little kids jumping on their older siblings to start the day out right.&amp;nbsp; Well, the day started out right for us at any rate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Hubs started some much needed coffee and I made a miserable cup of decaf for myself. &lt;i&gt;(Have I mentioned I can't have caffeine?&amp;nbsp; Have I mentioned how sad and miserable that makes me?)&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; And even with a steady stream of caffeinated coffee at their disposal, some of us were more awake than others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeTLwMSkBI/AAAAAAAAA5A/4VhoxVGNJBY/s1600/1012_Christmas_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeTLwMSkBI/AAAAAAAAA5A/4VhoxVGNJBY/s400/1012_Christmas_0001.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then The Hubs played "Santa" and passed out gifts a little at a time to each of us.&amp;nbsp; Notably, the Bug and Bunny had WAY more gifts than the rest of us.&amp;nbsp; Like every year we try to budget the same amount for gifts for each child, but while Bug and Bunny usually end up getting more gifts they typically get less money overall spent on them. Some of this is due to my amazing discount shopping skillz.&amp;nbsp; But mostly it's because LW and GG are old enough to want the truly expensive stuff.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This meant that when the wrapping paper settled, the piles around the little kids...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeSo34El1I/AAAAAAAAA48/waWJmBQWk1k/s1600/1012_Christmas_0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeSo34El1I/AAAAAAAAA48/waWJmBQWk1k/s400/1012_Christmas_0018.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;was a considerably larger than the piles surrounding each of the older girls..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeSnLEKEBI/AAAAAAAAA44/1iI4WOj0pvA/s1600/1012_Christmas_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeSnLEKEBI/AAAAAAAAA44/1iI4WOj0pvA/s400/1012_Christmas_0008.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Tweedles made out like bandits.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeUMWD8m5I/AAAAAAAAA5E/lMISwJSvyTc/s1600/1012_Christmas_0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeUMWD8m5I/AAAAAAAAA5E/lMISwJSvyTc/s400/1012_Christmas_0016.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
From Sand Toys to movies &lt;i&gt;(Lion King II)&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeUNkd5PHI/AAAAAAAAA5I/D3v4Mr7dgow/s1600/1012_Christmas_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeUNkd5PHI/AAAAAAAAA5I/D3v4Mr7dgow/s400/1012_Christmas_0017.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To Dora The Explorer Pals Dolls &lt;i&gt;(if you look closely, please notice that I accidentally left the sales price tag on $3 and some change thank you very much!)&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeUS6a__LI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/-eobMSgvxH4/s1600/1012_Christmas_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeUS6a__LI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/-eobMSgvxH4/s400/1012_Christmas_0019.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To dragons that move and make noise!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The older girls each got a few little gifts from us along with the homemade gifts from their siblings.&amp;nbsp; For their "BIG" gift this year, GG got this lovely camera to replace the one that got stolen from school last year.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeVgXjKGwI/AAAAAAAAA5U/5NylsmuY4gg/s1600/1090521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeVgXjKGwI/AAAAAAAAA5U/5NylsmuY4gg/s400/1090521.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's a Fuji Fine pix 14 Megapixel digital camera.&amp;nbsp; Not too shabby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And LW got this lovely image imparting her gift.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTiTU7FVZ-I/AAAAAAAAA5g/ysNgeYUpbXU/s1600/Megan2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTiTU7FVZ-I/AAAAAAAAA5g/ysNgeYUpbXU/s400/Megan2010.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It reads:&lt;br /&gt;
Archery Bow&lt;br /&gt;
because when the apocolypse comes,&lt;br /&gt;
you'll need to be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I may have mentioned our family's preoccupation with archery a few times on here.&amp;nbsp; Now LW will have her very own bow which hopefully will improve her scores now that she's not using the worn out ones they lend.&amp;nbsp; And the whole apocalypse thing has turned into a bit of an inside family thing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;I'll explain that someday.. maybe..&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Hubs got this amazing Whiskey Stone Set&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTea5j67BLI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/nL8qydBl1Xk/s1600/95408-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTea5j67BLI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/nL8qydBl1Xk/s320/95408-2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;They're suppose to make your drinks cold like ice, but without watering down your drink like ice would.&amp;nbsp; And the glasses are pretty neat-o too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I do believe I got the very best gift of all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTebULiE8WI/AAAAAAAAA5c/LxuIL8qCf54/s1600/canon_lens_mug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="230" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTebULiE8WI/AAAAAAAAA5c/LxuIL8qCf54/s400/canon_lens_mug.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Hubs reads my blog after all!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-5257624005700123384?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/-Ua6IS1bmpc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5257624005700123384/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/twas-morning-before-christmas.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5257624005700123384?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5257624005700123384?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/-Ua6IS1bmpc/twas-morning-before-christmas.html" title="Twas the Morning Before Christmas.." /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTeTLwMSkBI/AAAAAAAAA5A/4VhoxVGNJBY/s72-c/1012_Christmas_0001.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/twas-morning-before-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IFRnw7fSp7ImA9Wx9WEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-9152544090118961406</id><published>2011-01-14T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T08:11:57.205-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-14T08:11:57.205-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><title>Homemade Christmas Gifts - Little Kid Style Part 2</title><content type="html">Welcome back to part two of the Little Kid Christmas Gifting Saga.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to make sure Bunny didn't feel left out giving all those sparkly glitter initials to his sisters, so Bunny made one for him too.&amp;nbsp; For her sisters though, she needed something special.&amp;nbsp; Something girly.&amp;nbsp; Something only sisters would understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I headed back over to &lt;a href="http://www.designmom.com/"&gt;Design Mom&lt;/a&gt; for my second idea : Homemade Bubble Bath! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I used:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Glass Container with Lid&amp;nbsp; (Michael's)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Generic Clear Shampoo - 1 Cup (Rite Aid)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Food Coloring - 2-3 Drops&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Wyndmere Joyful Spirit Essential Oil - 5-10 Drops (Whole Foods)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Vitamin E Oil - 2 caps full (Trader Joe's)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;Let me just take a moment and talk about the Wyndmere Joyful Spirit Essential Oils I got from Whole Foods.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS9ALkk53LI/AAAAAAAAA4s/xfjdw5FwjZM/s1600/image.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS9ALkk53LI/AAAAAAAAA4s/xfjdw5FwjZM/s1600/image.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is a wonderful blend of Orange, Maychang, Ylang Ylang, Bergamot and Vtiver. Now, I'm not an aroma expert and have no idea what most of those are, but wow does it smell heavenly!&amp;nbsp; Just the right touch of girly and Bunny agreed when we picked it out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This was not only a fun, creative project for Bunny, but it also incorporated some counting as she measured out the required ingredients.&amp;nbsp; Once all the ingredients were added, Bunny stirred it all up (her favorite part) and chose a color for each sister.&amp;nbsp; GG got orange and LW got a teal color.&amp;nbsp; Bunny got to decide how many drops to add and make whatever colors she wanted.&amp;nbsp; They turned out fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTB1vGZVAII/AAAAAAAAA4w/5VPSjFLF6lQ/s1600/bubblebath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TTB1vGZVAII/AAAAAAAAA4w/5VPSjFLF6lQ/s320/bubblebath.jpg" width="232" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, now that it's WAY past Christmas and New Years, and we're back from our vacation to the farm already, GG has tried hers.&amp;nbsp; She said it smelled incredible and was a wonderful bubble bath.&amp;nbsp; And coming from our very own Glamour Girl, you know it's true!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-9152544090118961406?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/Cyx3CQlD0AA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9152544090118961406/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/homemade-christmas-gifts-little-kid_14.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/9152544090118961406?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/9152544090118961406?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/Cyx3CQlD0AA/homemade-christmas-gifts-little-kid_14.html" title="Homemade Christmas Gifts - Little Kid Style Part 2" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS9ALkk53LI/AAAAAAAAA4s/xfjdw5FwjZM/s72-c/image.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/homemade-christmas-gifts-little-kid_14.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEBSHs-eyp7ImA9Wx9XGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-5809154121858348901</id><published>2011-01-12T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T15:07:39.553-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-12T15:07:39.553-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweedles" /><title>Homemade Christmas Gifts - Little Kid Style! Part 1</title><content type="html">I know we're done with Christmas and the New Year and my vacation, but I wanted to back up a little bit to before Christmas since that's when I started slacking off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, Christmas.&amp;nbsp; I wanted Bunny and Bug to be able to give gifts to each other and their older sisters this year to help pull them into the spirit of Christmas, but I didn't want to spend an arm and a leg doing it.&amp;nbsp; So I put on my thinking cap, scoured the internet and came across a handy dandy website called&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.designermom.com/"&gt;Designer Mom&lt;/a&gt;. Apparently, every year, the Designer Mom's family has a tradition of the siblings giving homemade gifts to each other instead of purchasing gifts.&amp;nbsp; Not only is it a great idea, but it's a money saver, and as you know, in this economy, we pinch every penny we can!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since Bug is only 3, finding creative homemade gifts that are appropriate for this age was a little difficult.&amp;nbsp; I finally decided on a glitter initials idea from the Designer Mom site.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What you need:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wooden Initials (I found mine at Micheal's)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Plain Elmer's White Glue&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Foam Paint Brush (also gotten at Micheal's)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Glitter -various colors&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Plastic Bag/Newspapers &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The glitter was the hardest for me to find.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure Micheal's had some, but I was looking around the holiday season and they were either out or I was just looking in all the wrong places.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully, I found some in our old arts tubs from when GG and LW were little.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After laying down a plastic bag (&lt;i&gt;I didn't have any newspaper&lt;/i&gt;) I ran a bead of glue along the back of the wooden initial then I sat with Bug as he diligently &lt;strike&gt;got glue everywhere&lt;/strike&gt; painted the glue.&amp;nbsp; I went over his glue job to spread it out and make sure it was all over evenly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4w7FLq8jI/AAAAAAAAA4k/NjRW7p9f_tY/s1600/1012_Christmas_0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4w7FLq8jI/AAAAAAAAA4k/NjRW7p9f_tY/s400/1012_Christmas_0036.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the fun part.&amp;nbsp; I handed him a little container of glue and let him sprinkle away.&amp;nbsp; It was hard for him at first to get the glitter to come out and it certainly didn't come out evenly, so be prepared for a mess, but&amp;nbsp; man did he have fun.&amp;nbsp; He shook and shook and shook some more until there was glitter all over the first wooden initial.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4w5ZYY2bI/AAAAAAAAA4g/PrdBt57wdCE/s1600/1012_Christmas_0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4w5ZYY2bI/AAAAAAAAA4g/PrdBt57wdCE/s400/1012_Christmas_0034.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All up, I don't think it took more than 30-45 minutes to make all three glitter initials - time includes set up and clean up.&amp;nbsp; He had a lot of fun, and he was SO happy to have gifts under the tree that HE made himself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4z5FpwnJI/AAAAAAAAA4o/u3hOcsM6jiw/s1600/101217_WillGiftMaking_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4z5FpwnJI/AAAAAAAAA4o/u3hOcsM6jiw/s640/101217_WillGiftMaking_0004.jpg" width="425" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When his sister's opened their gifts from him he was squealing so loud about how he made them.&amp;nbsp; He was so proud!&amp;nbsp; And it was a nice little gift his sister's could really enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-5809154121858348901?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/sEq4_fRLlqU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5809154121858348901/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/homemade-christmas-gifts-little-kid.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5809154121858348901?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/5809154121858348901?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/sEq4_fRLlqU/homemade-christmas-gifts-little-kid.html" title="Homemade Christmas Gifts - Little Kid Style! Part 1" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TS4w7FLq8jI/AAAAAAAAA4k/NjRW7p9f_tY/s72-c/1012_Christmas_0036.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/homemade-christmas-gifts-little-kid.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQCQXY4cSp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-2676848307830011435</id><published>2011-01-10T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T18:36:00.839-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-10T18:36:00.839-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Glamour Girl" /><title>1920's Speakeasy Sweet 16</title><content type="html">Ahh.. GG's 1920's Speakeasy Sweet 16 party.&amp;nbsp; You didn't think I'd ever get to it did you? You doubted, admit it.&amp;nbsp; I know you did!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The days leading up to the party were a flurry of activity on all sides.&amp;nbsp; We spent half of our time finding the last bits and pieces to complete outfits (including an absolutely adorable hat for Bug), and half of our time scrounging up the last of the decorations and party stuff like chairs/tables, punch bowls etc, and the other half of our time setting everything up and getting ready for the shindig.&amp;nbsp; And if you noticed there were three halves in all of that, you have an inkling of how overwhelmed we were trying to get it all done!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let me just stop here a moment and say it was amazing.&amp;nbsp; GG's mom made an amazing pyramid tiramisu cake and a bunch of fancy hor d'oeuvres.&amp;nbsp; And the dress.&amp;nbsp; Oh my!&amp;nbsp; I almost forgot you all hadn't seen it yet!&amp;nbsp; Here is my beautiful GG in her amazing dress!&amp;nbsp; She rocked that dress didn't she?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-moSBJqI/AAAAAAAAA38/Pvg6M79VOHY/s1600/IMG_4794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-moSBJqI/AAAAAAAAA38/Pvg6M79VOHY/s640/IMG_4794.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We made mocktails and had plastic champagne glasses for everyone to drink them out of.&amp;nbsp; GG created her own music playlist which included a mix of old style 20's songs.&amp;nbsp; The back yard was cleaned up, decked out and lit up with white Christmas lights to create the mood.&amp;nbsp; Almost everyone dressed up and it didn't rain.&amp;nbsp; Thank goodness it didn't rain!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-p5fojeI/AAAAAAAAA4M/Ml5_NXlZ6so/s1600/IMG_4814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-p5fojeI/AAAAAAAAA4M/Ml5_NXlZ6so/s400/IMG_4814.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Thankfully, GG's mom, step-dad and baby sister were able to make it out from Alabama.&amp;nbsp; GG was beaming from ear to ear to have her mom be there for her party.&amp;nbsp; She's in the above photo laughing at GG's attempts to cut up that great big beautiful cake!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GG's night was filled with friends (her own and family friend's from both sides!), family and a lot of fun.&amp;nbsp; She was beautiful...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu_9GD--ZI/AAAAAAAAA4c/vGzOnkwTSv8/s1600/IMG_4879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu_9GD--ZI/AAAAAAAAA4c/vGzOnkwTSv8/s400/IMG_4879.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She danced..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-qwuXSzI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/6L6796UGYgU/s1600/IMG_4821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-qwuXSzI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/6L6796UGYgU/s640/IMG_4821.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;She was glamorous..&lt;i&gt;(in a duck face sort of way)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-lkREkYI/AAAAAAAAA34/NYL0924Th1k/s1600/IMG_4881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-lkREkYI/AAAAAAAAA34/NYL0924Th1k/s400/IMG_4881.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Later in the evening I think she might have been possessed... I swear they were mocktails!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-snTVD0I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/qMPNiWNuXW4/s1600/IMG_4880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-snTVD0I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/qMPNiWNuXW4/s400/IMG_4880.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;She even got to dance with her daddy - which admittedly made me a bit weepy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-nVOzuFI/AAAAAAAAA4A/gi1VtsCxSAw/s1600/IMG_4798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-nVOzuFI/AAAAAAAAA4A/gi1VtsCxSAw/s400/IMG_4798.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-oEb8gTI/AAAAAAAAA4E/n3gzuJZHkFA/s1600/IMG_4802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-oEb8gTI/AAAAAAAAA4E/n3gzuJZHkFA/s400/IMG_4802.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I'm finding it a little hard to believe that the cute and precocious little 5 year old I met 11 years ago, has turned into this amazing young woman.&amp;nbsp; When did this happen?&amp;nbsp; Where was I that I missed her growing up so fast?&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;And geez..don't I sound old?&amp;nbsp; Wait, scratch that.&amp;nbsp; I am not old!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; Honestly, the best part of the night was that we were all one family.&amp;nbsp; No his or hers, no step and bio.&amp;nbsp; We were all able to put it all aside for one night to give GG a night she won't forget.&amp;nbsp; And you can see that in her eyes can't you?&amp;nbsp; Real, honest to goodness happiness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-o5-QscI/AAAAAAAAA4I/GIlb1e4J9gs/s1600/IMG_4808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-o5-QscI/AAAAAAAAA4I/GIlb1e4J9gs/s400/IMG_4808.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-2676848307830011435?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/ACig-hW3pvE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2676848307830011435/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/1920s-speakeasy-sweet-16.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2676848307830011435?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/2676848307830011435?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/ACig-hW3pvE/1920s-speakeasy-sweet-16.html" title="1920's Speakeasy Sweet 16" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSu-moSBJqI/AAAAAAAAA38/Pvg6M79VOHY/s72-c/IMG_4794.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/1920s-speakeasy-sweet-16.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQNSHk_eSp7ImA9Wx9VEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-7392762201478811002</id><published>2011-01-09T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T17:56:39.741-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-26T17:56:39.741-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Farm" /><title>Preview - Farm Fun</title><content type="html">I've been remiss in my blogging responsibilities.&amp;nbsp; I freely admit it.&amp;nbsp; I know in my last blog I promised to do better, and then I didn't.&amp;nbsp; The thing is, with everything that was going on for the holidays I just couldn't find the time, and then once I was actually on vacation, I just couldn't bring myself to do more than check my email.&amp;nbsp; Being at the farm has that effect on people.&amp;nbsp; No really.&amp;nbsp; You should try it sometime!&lt;br /&gt;
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Now that I'm back in reality again, I have gobs of stuff to share with y'all. So while I'm unpacking, grocery shopping and generally putting my life back together before Monday's work day hits me, please enjoy this sneak peak of the fun time we all had at the farm over the last two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSnnqyz-wvI/AAAAAAAAA30/Q3Pm9ct6csA/s1600/110107_FarmFrun_0075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSnnqyz-wvI/AAAAAAAAA30/Q3Pm9ct6csA/s400/110107_FarmFrun_0075.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Seriously.. Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-7392762201478811002?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/8oNPvQwHvTo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7392762201478811002/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/preview-farm-fun.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/7392762201478811002?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/7392762201478811002?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/8oNPvQwHvTo/preview-farm-fun.html" title="Preview - Farm Fun" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TSnnntQRkNI/AAAAAAAAA3o/mu5vg755vEM/s72-c/110107_FarmFrun_0006.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/preview-farm-fun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkACSHo4eCp7ImA9Wx9SFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3763085155650158485.post-4397271873285875292</id><published>2010-12-05T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T19:06:09.430-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-05T19:06:09.430-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life As I Live It" /><title>1920's</title><content type="html">Dylinn's 1920's Speakeasy Themed birthday party was a huge success.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;I'll post photos and talk about that soon, promise!&lt;/i&gt; First, let me just tell you how great we all looked.&amp;nbsp; So great in fact, that I convinced myself, and then my family, that our family portraits this year should be in our costumes.&amp;nbsp; Then I rounded up my good friend Tamlin and forced him to do the photoshoot.&amp;nbsp; He took all these photos on the automatic setting, but he and I did discuss poses, lighting, and tested out ideas together.&amp;nbsp; Some (a few I've shown below) were a huge success.&amp;nbsp; And some weren't so great (you won't see those).&amp;nbsp; I intentionally wanted the photos to look a little older.&amp;nbsp; That sepia style with a touch of color.&amp;nbsp; Overall, with a little cropping and processing, they all came out looking pretty amazing.&amp;nbsp; I could not be happier.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;With extra special thanks to Tamlin's wife for being an impromptu hair and make-up artist as well as photo assistant.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxODbFfTDI/AAAAAAAAA2s/qzlj4AIVvLM/s1600/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxODbFfTDI/AAAAAAAAA2s/qzlj4AIVvLM/s400/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0053.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxOBjM3ZOI/AAAAAAAAA2k/qY9eUlSkfg8/s1600/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxOBjM3ZOI/AAAAAAAAA2k/qY9eUlSkfg8/s400/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0111.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxOOC4S7UI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/-CdF3tNM1EQ/s1600/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxOOC4S7UI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/-CdF3tNM1EQ/s400/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0100.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxTE5UJYaI/AAAAAAAAA3c/WupN1jK5170/s1600/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0074_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxTE5UJYaI/AAAAAAAAA3c/WupN1jK5170/s400/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0074_1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3763085155650158485-4397271873285875292?l=seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~4/WepAbIWbdXM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4397271873285875292/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2010/12/1920s.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/4397271873285875292?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3763085155650158485/posts/default/4397271873285875292?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SeriouslyThoughts/~3/WepAbIWbdXM/1920s.html" title="1920's" /><author><name>Wendi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03685518230955927287</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TDOCdLvd7JI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3rEVpAAyNX4/S220/SeriouslyThoughts3.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yV9Fyp4PzH8/TPxODbFfTDI/AAAAAAAAA2s/qzlj4AIVvLM/s72-c/2010Dec05_FamilyPhotos_0053.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://seriouslythoughts.blogspot.com/2010/12/1920s.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

