tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25779903503665650412024-02-07T21:40:08.506-08:00CainFiveA story about a crazy woman and her family. Hopefully humorous, occasionally dark, always true.yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-87252195132637241592015-12-06T21:57:00.000-08:002015-12-06T21:57:01.498-08:00History Lesson DIY <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">I have always really loathed History. Even though some is kind of
cool, it has bored me quickly. I have faked enthusiasm for my dear Grand-dad's
stories and not learned a thing. I cannot remember important dates in my own
history let alone in our great country. I, until this year, have gladly brushed
this under my neatly swept pottery barn rug. Because who really needs to know
what date WWII began or ended on and Where or Why, to get through life
anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">Now I have had some wonderful and
brilliant teachers in my educational career. It is not their fault I have fell
short in this area. I honestly do not even know where or when my distastes
began. I really thought I would feel this way in regards to history for my
entire earthly existence, and that was totally fine by me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">However, nine years ago God gave me this
son. He has changed my life in ways that seriously only God could explain. He
has stretched not only my stomach to the point of no return but also my
mind. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">It took me a good 2 years to even realize
what I was in for, another 2 years to harness this power for good. But the past
4 years the ride has been wild, fun, fast, furious but also extremely
insightful and totally delightful. His modo, What is the point of fun if you learn nothing?</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">This most recent turn of events in which I
have to remind myself to NEVER say NEVER! Like EVER! has been such a humble realization
for me. This boy LOVES his history. I have willingly jumped in with all my
clothes on and the water is cold!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
should have seen it coming. The non-fiction books, the refusal to entertain
anything that was not truth, fact, proven, researched and written down, the
disbelief in things of utter nonsense. Here I was trying to prolong the tooth
fairy, the Santa, The freaking Elf, the Disney Darth Vader Magic. And there he
was saying, "you realize that these things are not documented as proven
people with dates in history nor have they had any impact on our world or
country in the way of forward thinking" Doh! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">So I started paying attention. I started to
listen, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to read with him, and God opened
my eyes to what a rich and ridiculously cool history we have. As a family, as a
nation, as a Universe, the path we have traveled to arrive at this current
footprint is fascinating. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">So sorry professor so and so, but this 9 year old has got you beat
when it comes to lesson! I have learned more in the past year than perhaps my
entire 16 years in the institution. I remember speaking to his soon to be 3<sup>rd</sup>
grade teacher at the end of last year and asking what the big research project
would be on. Her response of American History received an eye roll and “ugh,
boring” from me the MOM! Well goodness, I am sorry and boy has my tuned
changed! I am so looking forward to seeing what J and his classmates teach me!
Also, a huge apology to my Grand-dad, I knew those stories where so important
and while I loved your sarcasm and the morals you eventually taught with them,
I really wish I would have paid attention to the dates, the actual history of
your activities. Perhaps we can discuss this when I meet up with you again. I
know Jonah is looking forward to sitting down with you and hashing out the
facts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">So, when my boy tells me that he is intent on being the one to win
the Veterans day poetry read and speak at the assembly, I obviously believe him
and have zero doubt of his success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
time had gone on, and just today I started to panic that I would be picking up
the pieces of his broken heart once the winner was reading their poem come
Friday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After his research and
enthusiasm to learn more about our countries Vets and Branches of service…he
would be crushed for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then I
got this email. From the very woman who received my eye roll and boring comment
last year. “Jonah is the K-3<sup>rd</sup> winner for Veterans day Poetry” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">I cried. Also, I smiled. I am humbled by this man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-44483170349471184662015-07-30T17:30:00.003-07:002015-07-30T20:10:08.025-07:00The Death of Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have only been a part of a few deaths, but they have all followed similar protocol. They have started abruptly, strung out for seeming eternity, then ended peacefully yet with deep deep sorrow that no matter the preparation I was not ready. The shock is always the easiest for me to overcome because i want to get in and be helpful and useful and forward moving. I have only been in the loop of carrying the burden of recovery a couple of times, but i have witnessed several loved ones do it. It is a heavy heavy load that is carried with ease, joyful heart, sorrowful forgiveness and exhausting supplies of God's energy and adrenaline. The close relationships of family and friends that are in place only become stronger and the peripheral gets pushed even further. The death almost seems a relief to those care giving and those suffering, except it is NOT. It is deep pain and sadness. Did you do enough, did you love hard, did you forgive, did you laugh, did you create a bond that will last eternity? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is summer for me every. damn. year. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Summer comes like a bucket of cold water at 6am. Fast, hard and way too early for my personality type. So of course I am up and running and have the world as our oyster before the first espresso has been polished off. Adventures abound, so much to see, so much to do now that we are the masters of our own schedule. Come mid summer we have given ourselves enough fun hangover days that we have settled into the frat life. Breakfast at 10, lunch at 3, maybe we get dressed and live it up until midnight..or maybe we never shower until Thursday...pool counts right? This is the sweet spot of summer. I could live here forever. But there is always that nagging thing around the corner that keeps us from lingering too long. It is like a persistent rash. #school </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And now here we sit with rice on our tux and only one week left of summer. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Dream Paralysis, Panic, Frustration, Sadness. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did I do enough? Did we laugh, did we see? Did we sing, dance, love? Did we strengthen our shell to withstand another 9 months of arrows being shot at our armor? Did we build enough? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sigh. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">my heart is heavy. another year of enthusiasm to summon up. </span><br />
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<br />
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<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-88962697557096191582015-02-18T22:32:00.000-08:002015-02-18T22:32:16.241-08:00Banana Camry <div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been depressed. In a funk. Lost my MOJO. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not the straight jacket off her meds kind of depressed, but instead more the Bobby finds the tiki idol and then buries it again for the next family to find when they visit the island on their dream Sandals Vacation type. So I knew it would pass, but Man...While i was in it, the days drug on, the weeks seemed very stressful and i slept NONE. Finding your mojo after you've lost it on the sandy beaches of Oahu can seem impossible and I was letting myself become overwhelmed and lost in my childrens' vocabulary words all too easily. The humdrum of daily routine, the melancholy mornings. The doppio esspresso was even failing me. Seeing Kanye all crouched down and watching people sing I assume he felt the same as I did, ducking from the hubbub, listening to the tumult but not hearing his name. I needed to shake things up BADly, but how. "Will I ever laugh again?" Thinking surly the answer would be no! But then just like that, I saw it...my Mojo. I mean it was unmistakable and blatantly displayed for me to pick up and carry on. And so I did. Finding that thing has brought a smile so needed and the sun feels like it is shinning once again. So I am sure you are now dying to know where my mojo was....Oh, you know. It was in the kayak, shoved in this guys Camry driving down the street. I totally forgot i put it there. Thank You (insert Jimmy Fallon music) Banana Camry, for returning my zeal for life today. Watching as it drove past me top speed on the way to who knows where since there are NO oceans around. But the joy you have brought will carry me through. You knew exactly what it would take...but seriously, what a sense of humor. Good call, God. Good call. </span><br />
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<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-83526370274137112722014-10-20T22:16:00.002-07:002014-10-20T22:37:04.829-07:00the sweet tale of How Lice gave me a Tumor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our life has been that of a dark Willy Wonka short.<br />
The real trenches of regular life I suppose.<br />
However, I am climbing back out on the other side, White flag still tucked firmly in my pocket.<br />
God is good and has carried us through as He always does..but man did I realize just how much weight i needed to put on Him this past month.<br />
<br />
Because I have very little time to waste, and also just because I can and have NO teacher breathing MLA format down my neck. I report to you in my normal list fashion, the events of the Cain Train over the past month.<br />
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1. My niece, Everly Charlotte was born and is to die for in cuteness and personality.<br />
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2. My grandmother past away and is now remembering everything she had forgotten over the last 10 years and then some. Thank you Jesus.<br />
<br />
3. We got lice. We got rid of lice. Not to go all Martha Stewart prison on you...but if you get lice...I am the girl to talk to. I can get that shit under control in 24 hours, I have yet to sleep but we are lice free.<br />
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4. We had a most spectacular family and friend vacation to Disneyland, an annual tradition with a twist, as this year the kids got to do the Halloween scene. Costumes, Candy, HUGE Disney Hangover.<br />
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5. While at the Magic Kingdom, Gwen fell and hurt her ankle for the 3rd time in the past 18mths. She enjoyed the wheelchair for the entire disney vacation but was rather fed up by the time the following week rolled around and she still could not walk.<br />
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6. We took her to urgent care, she had a sprained ankle. But at that time, they also found a TUMOR in her bone.<br />
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7. I fell apart at the seams. Yep, COULD NOT HOLD IT TOGETHER. MOM has CRACKED UNDER THE pressure. I AM NOT IN CONTROL. Total FREAK OUT MOMENT. Don't worry I was very calm in front of the children as Mary Poppins would advise.<br />
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8. Here we are 3 weeks later, the tumor is benign, her ankle if finally getting better, and she was able to ride her horse for the first time in a long time today. So thankful for the friends, doctors, science, teachers, overall amazing people in our lives. Seriously.<br />
<br />
9. I am NOT holding my breath for what is next<br />
<br />
10. Surely God has prepared us.<br />
<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-56098742402230297962014-09-18T22:54:00.000-07:002014-09-18T22:54:30.405-07:00Path of Life Psalm 16:11<div style="text-align: center;">
I know this woman, she plays music with the Angels. </div>
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I met her years ago, she was inspired to play the harp and told me she wanted to use it as therapy. To be able to play for people as they set on their path, whether recovery, discovery or even death. I have heard her play so often that I take if for granted. But the sound is truly that of Peace and Clarity. I asked her once what her goal was, pursuing music for her life work? She said that she wanted to play people into Heaven.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Today my sister played for my Grandmother on her Path into Heaven. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A reflection of admirable women indeed. Good Night Grandmother, Good Night. </div>
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<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-90111771911241339192014-04-11T22:48:00.000-07:002014-04-11T22:48:17.455-07:00Check Mate <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Dude hardly gets any air time. I mean it is always the girls with the cute look or the dress up reenactment of Elsa freezing Anna. They get all the posts and the blogs and the hashtags. The boy refuses to be caught dead doing anything remotely absurd. He is business. He is the hard core facts. He is a perfectionist. He will not be beaten at any game. He will succeed and surpass despite what skeptics believe. So hold on to your selfies...the Blog is for the BOY!<br />
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I am ridiculously happy and proud of my son. Jonah has spent a year being in between. He is in a wonderful class with an encouraging teacher. He has been improving his skills as a student (easier said than done when you are a boy with a mighty brain). He has been gaining self confidence and letting God guide his path. All of these good good things in his life, yet such an unsettled year and uneasy place for him. He has been waiting, watching, wishing. He aches from that feeling of "not quite there yet but no where else to go". So we have been anxiously awaiting some placement and test results that will give us more choices for him. As a family we decided to move all the children to the same school for 2014-15. Regardless of the education program, they would be housed in one location. Good, but not complete. Jonah really needs something more specialized.<br />
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Today, unexpectedly and earlier than anticipated, we got Jonah's test results. I can NOT stop smiling ear to ear, as he has qualified for the Renaissance program at his new school. All of a sudden a huge weight lifted from his frame, he knows in his soul that his immediate future looks very bright. He may be living in the moment very soon, no longer waiting and wishing. And as his parent, the weight is even loftier. I am lighter than air today. Seems so simple when you put it out there. But for a boy who has built the Hindenburg out of a party city balloon and some construction paper, and built the Statue of Liberty out of Legos......the fact of creating your day and living that creation will be so much healthier for him. So hard to put into words.<br />
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Last year I was equally as excited for his sister to have the opportunity in this same program, this chance for Jonah is different. For him it means life, learning for him is like breathing air.<br />
So here it is, since i am the owner of this Blog o Rama and I can say what I want, and it was your choice to read it anyway #toomuchtimeonyourhands:<br />
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My son, is wickedly smart, Godly wise and ridiculously genuine. I promise you he will NOT fail, but instead blow your mind with his success..and Yes i am bragging, and promise to humbly move on but for this one time.....I must say it! I am SOOOOO Happy. (insert Pharrell Williams)<br />
To celebrate this wonderful news, we ate cake pops from Starbucks and he beat me in a game of Checkers....That is right, I can NO longer win! Not even a chance. side note, i refuse to play chess with him, i have some dignity that needs to remain in tact.<br />
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<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-4640860406789965202014-02-09T21:50:00.001-08:002014-02-09T21:50:17.626-08:00For the love of Cupcakes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Blah Blah Blah, same story: Been so long since i wrote anything. But I swear that i do think all the time!!! It's just the putting it out there part and my lack of follow through. I am the idea girl. Thats IT!<br />
So here it is then. Death. I have been recently grieving the death of my dear dear friend. Just a simple woman with an incredible mind and ability to warm my heart yet piss me off all over the course of a Grande Latte. She was so very talented in ways that most all other people I have met are lacking. She was an idea girl! She died very alone. She came from such a big family, yet had no children and hardly a spouse and was just Alone. How does that happen to someone? Side note: it takes a village, we can not be anyones universe, that is what God is for. My heart continues to ache for her in this particular way:<br />
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<b>It is like she never existed.</b></div>
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Which isn't that the human way, and isn't that what all the "green" folk are pushing for? No footprint?<br />
How can we make a foot print, yet not leave one? This woman, I suppose, did not...except on me..maybe a few more. But I will not share her life or her stories with my children or grandchildren as I don't know them very well and she was not integrated into their lives in a way that you would think healthy. I suppose I will cherish her for myself which seems incredible selfish and the exact opposite of Gods message in salvation and eternal life....but I just cant get past the point. Ashes to Ashes, dust to dust.<br />
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Which brings me to:<br />
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<b>Fucking Winter.</b></div>
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That is right....Winter, which means we have spent the past 3 weeks heavily on the couch, in a bed, eating wafers, drinking Pedialyte (probably contains GMO"s). It is the season for unhealth. However, it is these bare moments that my footprint is being created...with my children, with my husband, my neighbor, my parents. Life lessons that will be spread like the little germs my kids are spreading now. I have no desire to change the world in a Grand way. I do desire to impact people in my path for good. So that when I die those lessons and stories are passed on and my time here doesn't die when I die. I suppose my perspective is changing even as I type...perhaps my dear friend had it right all along.<br />
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<b>I just want to exist! </b></div>
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Just as your children are a mirror of yourself, I reflect that Death is the same. Such a character building experience, unless of course, you are dead. So while many of my frilly readers will have a hard time with this post, all of us will Pass! #JanetJackson What have you done for me Lately? I hope I can do more with a happy heart and a legacy. </div>
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<b>RIP Sally Roberts Mayer </b></div>
<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-44702782709099765462013-07-25T23:11:00.004-07:002013-07-25T23:11:44.670-07:00Retro Book Worm<br />
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I have to thank my mother for choosing the very best stories to read to me as a child. Those books are still top today. She read every single night and nurtured a love of books in me that no Ipad/nook/kindle can replace. The stanky old library books are really where it is at. I have to thank my father too! He did not partake in the bed time "Make way for the Ducklings" bit. However he was always reading, usually at meal time. To himself and then sharing a highlight with us. The words, the images are still with me hauntingly so.<br />
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The bedtime story....I love it! It is perhaps the very best time of day for so many reason.<br />
It makes me seem very old, but I am so sick of all the current hip songs, shows, books, marketing, food, furnishings. I have a pit in my stomach...it aches for the 80's maybe even the 70's. So tonight it was Mom's choice for story time. I usually read one time for all to listen, but on special nights (the kind when i am in the mood to snuggle in each kids bed) I hop around and each kid gets a tailor made story for them. I love those nights best.<br />
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For Gwendolyn, who reads in the car everyday, never forgets a book when going to a restaurant and laughs out loud at her comedy tales and brings a smile to my face: Lazy Tommy Pumpkin Head. Perhaps my very most favorite childhood tale. I always checked it out from the library and now thanks to mom and Amazon.com have a copy of my own to share.<br />
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For Jonah, the quiet reader that knows so much more than he will let you believe, who reads fact rarely fiction and then builds models of the things he has read about: Ferdinand. The simplest yet truest story i hold on to about just being yourself and not caring about the rest. A lesson I try to live each day with God on my side and am trusting my boy will do the same<br />
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For Piccolina, who pretends she can read sweet valley high but we all know it is a rouse. The lady that will charm you into reading the longest bedtime story but you gladly say yes because she is the best snuggler. The Giving Tree: A story i still do NOT understand and seems very sad and unfriendly and entitled and emotionally draining. However it is there, like the birthmark you came with! And you read it, spin it, try to cover it up and are so glad when it is over and its time to sing songs. Oh Phoebe...you are a light in this dark world...thank you for listening.<br />
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<br />yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-33628032369227167932013-06-21T21:54:00.000-07:002013-06-21T21:55:41.562-07:00Question and Answer?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I must say that I have not felt compelled to write in so so long. Perhaps because at the end of the day I have already answered so many other peoples questions..that to ask myself any questions just seems down right cruel and stupid. However, it has been brought to my attention that i may need a bit more reflection in my day. In fact, not so much reflection as it would be prayer. In fact, not so much prayer as it would be me just asking God...WHAT AM I missing, Who am I, What do you want for me? I see you trying to talk to me, hitting me over the head with it...WHAT is IT?<br />
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Perhaps the only way i will figure it out is by asking and listening...the VERY things I teach my kids to do all day LONG. So here it is folks...one of the Darker yet True moments in the Cain Train Blog (check the description). Pretty sure CPS has me red flagged seeing our last 9 months of events and God is clearly trying to get it through my thick skull. Life is NOT roses. There I said it. No matter how glorious we want it to seem..it is not. So in an effort to Pay Attention, Listen and Ask questions, I am going to commit to 15 min of reflection in the word a day. I shall report back with any Answers!<br />
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Now all of you: Go ask someone something and see what the answer is...Perhaps someone will learn something...I hope it is meyogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-13273918888735808992013-01-02T21:10:00.000-08:002013-01-02T21:10:00.731-08:001st Rodeo<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>1st Rodeo</b></div>
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Although many people use the phrase "Not my first Rodeo" This actually was and IS my first Rodeo. My first time being a wife, a parent, a homeowner, a grown up. Last weekend I took Gwendolyn to her first rodeo, she rocked it and with ease. Let this sweet 8 yr old girl show me how it is done.</div>
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As 2013 begins I find myself realizing that the only way I am ever going to rope any steer is to let go of my rope. Letting go of many ropes actually. First up and at the forefront is my 8yr old lady Gwendolyn. I am watching her turn into a young woman and while most of me is pushing hard for it not to happen...it is happening anyway. I must let that rope loose.....she will fly. Next is my home...it will never look like the pictures on pintrest so i need to stop caring. This home shall be a place of peace and warmth for our family and friends that seek comfort. While I am running around lassoing legos and pet shops I must remember that a sweet smell of dinner and comfort of music are better than spotless floors and shiny doors.</div>
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Sigh. Last and probably the hardest rope to toss free. Time. I am a time nazi, refuse to be late. But i am seeing more clearly by being at the barn with my kids and the cowboys/cowgirls. Time is really yours, and what you make it. So while my obsession for punctuality may stick around...I am finding that it is much easier to plan less and do more. So saddle up 2013, I am ready to rope.</div>
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yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-43631905929440996512011-11-06T21:24:00.000-08:002011-11-06T21:25:00.009-08:00Call em like we See em<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdrQTZ2XC4pwcqhJfzCfWicJo9_ubfafpSBWDVqK5QOWcz_20BxKvHsXXzPAsOH3Lip5PAHT8vY5ELdmvFuTEdP6ZNOqEDk81OQdS0sCREDEq4_EopzLcvYOqAQLwPJnzzATXknsGu3cY/s1600/kidsbikes.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdrQTZ2XC4pwcqhJfzCfWicJo9_ubfafpSBWDVqK5QOWcz_20BxKvHsXXzPAsOH3Lip5PAHT8vY5ELdmvFuTEdP6ZNOqEDk81OQdS0sCREDEq4_EopzLcvYOqAQLwPJnzzATXknsGu3cY/s320/kidsbikes.bmp" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">It has been a very busy, productive, and milestone kind of a month for the Cain Train.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The Lady has been successfully riding her bike with no training wheels for weeks now! The Dude was baptized a week ago, amazing! The Pickle is hilarious! Today something out of the ordinary happend. It was one of those times, when the words coming from your mouth have far impacted the room before the punctuation has been added to the sentence. As you all do, we have buckets of candy on top of the fridge right now (Thank You Halloween). Today at lunch was just like every other lunch this week. Down come the buckets, the kids make thier choice and then up go the buckets. Today the candy choices caused a bit of a stumble for me. Jonah is starting to ready but having a hard time sounding out so I chimed in.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Side note, we have alwaysed used correct terminology in our home for pretty much everything and try very hard not to make fun of words or things that are just the way We are All made and All do. We use this approach in hopes that life will be more honest and up front when they go out our doors and into the real world. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Today it happend, that Freudian slip that has fallen out of your mouth so fast, you can not take it back.."Reeces Penis"! I said it, there was no pause, they all died laughing, including Justin and myself (with my head burried of course). </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I would advise you all to remove those candies from your buckets to avoid any ridiculous lunch chatter.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The End</span></div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-48634247359443615102011-10-24T21:37:00.000-07:002011-10-24T21:37:48.077-07:00Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSkPn7X2ypeC4mNZ9uFUQNcsA3TDm-ruyMa20oo_2i07mFZb5olVlUH-gQOt0uE2-Ha3xZ1rSboomooGUE3NjX7faM1OgePKaHqopYlrvfqRKZtDpyVEmTlkidh_ITldERauEXCfQhNMT/s1600/DSCF4219+copy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSkPn7X2ypeC4mNZ9uFUQNcsA3TDm-ruyMa20oo_2i07mFZb5olVlUH-gQOt0uE2-Ha3xZ1rSboomooGUE3NjX7faM1OgePKaHqopYlrvfqRKZtDpyVEmTlkidh_ITldERauEXCfQhNMT/s320/DSCF4219+copy2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><tr><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 4px;" valign="top"><br />
Child of woe is wane and delicate...sensitive and on the quiet side, she loves the picnics and outings to the underground caverns...a solemn child, prim in dress and, on the whole, pretty lost...secretive and imaginitive, poetic, seems underprivileged and given to occasional tantrums...has six toes on one foot...<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wednesday_Addams#cite_note-1"><span>[</span>2<span>]</span></a></sup></td> <td style="color: #b2b7f2; font-family: serif; font-size: 40px; font-weight: bold; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 10px; text-align: right;" valign="bottom" width="20">”</td> </tr><br />
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<div style="line-height: 1em; text-align: right;"><cite style="font-style: normal;">— <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Addams" title="Charles Addams">Charles Addams</a></cite></div><div style="line-height: 1em; text-align: right;"><cite style="font-style: normal;"></cite> </div><div style="line-height: 1em; text-align: right;"><cite style="font-style: normal;"></cite> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_-_pV-7X2E7jebqUCuJW_gRccSNLuq2r2406C03Pubjf7v2RLdcOxu-oyhfhksr7-srUTOCudw74McnaYX-Gfd_AV0JMMHt7Iw54gXxJJ__gtNVZCxOhXnPfTc3W6xDFooa3-KHH8Cly/s1600/DSCF4212+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_-_pV-7X2E7jebqUCuJW_gRccSNLuq2r2406C03Pubjf7v2RLdcOxu-oyhfhksr7-srUTOCudw74McnaYX-Gfd_AV0JMMHt7Iw54gXxJJ__gtNVZCxOhXnPfTc3W6xDFooa3-KHH8Cly/s320/DSCF4212+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My girl learned to ride her bike last week. No training wheels....I am pretty sure she was humming the wicked witch song from the Wizard of Oz...as she peddled like a mad woman.</div><div style="line-height: 1em; text-align: right;"><cite style="font-style: normal;"></cite> </div></td></tr>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-68988229525107871612011-10-03T12:24:00.000-07:002011-10-03T12:54:43.965-07:00Good Night France (written through my tears, on my final night in Cabris)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg67PApS4VvQKsmCBGAvbhwSC0idGoYqxs4zAUnWFL7qw9ukOPK_5BV68Aaa49Lo7Qko_TF6by7Q1Gm7KI9qccTUfAfi-juyWVhjSRiVazX6IgPyqGjlLUp6v9lB3edNy4sjMge2NGohfqn/s1600/IMG_2168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg67PApS4VvQKsmCBGAvbhwSC0idGoYqxs4zAUnWFL7qw9ukOPK_5BV68Aaa49Lo7Qko_TF6by7Q1Gm7KI9qccTUfAfi-juyWVhjSRiVazX6IgPyqGjlLUp6v9lB3edNy4sjMge2NGohfqn/s320/IMG_2168.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I have spent the week 5000 miles from home. Leaving behind my husband, children and dogs. I was ready to come home, half way across the United States only on my first flight. I am a sap and missed my people already. However, I am so glad I made the trip, created the memories, and took the chance (Je prende le Risque). Next is my account of the events.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">In the countryside of South France, only footsteps from the Mediterranean, the homes are separated by thick hills full of green and stillness. The sound of a crying baby or a roaring party guest are exactly the same as in Phoenix, but they are followed by the echo of empty space. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The impromptu family dinners for 10, taste and feel the same as at home too. The to do list for the wife is The SAME. The highs and melt downs of a 2 year old are The SAME, and the dogs life is The SAME.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3aCJzcVmM5TnDfOMfQbh17755qAR3qI6_oHMumKPQklmcWbO8V814uNQGxhnVHLh2-b_VatrBi3sqsaKdsU0Kb9TcbcnCLTRaFmIra7XOajb_b-IL42lBleajweXk1XdNoBY_ywgydQJ/s1600/cashandjennifer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3aCJzcVmM5TnDfOMfQbh17755qAR3qI6_oHMumKPQklmcWbO8V814uNQGxhnVHLh2-b_VatrBi3sqsaKdsU0Kb9TcbcnCLTRaFmIra7XOajb_b-IL42lBleajweXk1XdNoBY_ywgydQJ/s320/cashandjennifer.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The hard work is The SAME, and they give birth the same too. There are really only two major differences I noticed. The BEACH! So beautiful and naked. Topless everyone and little naked children running around all over, I was praying they had sunscreen on!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisk3EzTBTuRH-myf3SZAIM8Z78sIPgKSY9qbNWBDrtpu1Q80X3KVhT7Vpl0rmI0auAW8Ecx07eb9yLB6v4fcDuOAMhk-CRAmT1_tPZmPVf9uvV5NoIxb3tspSmTTPXR98Dp6GEe1ogVXSG/s1600/IMG_2186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisk3EzTBTuRH-myf3SZAIM8Z78sIPgKSY9qbNWBDrtpu1Q80X3KVhT7Vpl0rmI0auAW8Ecx07eb9yLB6v4fcDuOAMhk-CRAmT1_tPZmPVf9uvV5NoIxb3tspSmTTPXR98Dp6GEe1ogVXSG/s320/IMG_2186.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And second, my Sister. She is beautifully pregnant and so at home there. Although there may not be an outward overflowing spectacle of our relationship, the true, underlying "you don't have to say one word" is the part that I miss terribly and hate to leave. I suppose that is the reason we can not talk or see each other for a month or a year even, yet fall back into place as we were just together. I do feel selfish that I didn't make it for Eloise. But I am rationalizing that Cash will remember me and Megan and I will have a memory for the lifetime.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHD-6A6G1FFkQxqFKCPet6v_0rmWwct865ef6E5hYiQDZMkrBcLiQIGmrrpjF8O0SKXHOEHpRW8Nn4_W5i5dmD2J4x6RnEj9cVmcLJQZecwkLi368N-1v977F1sjtqzriGlBwrv8YP4pj/s1600/IMG_2180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHD-6A6G1FFkQxqFKCPet6v_0rmWwct865ef6E5hYiQDZMkrBcLiQIGmrrpjF8O0SKXHOEHpRW8Nn4_W5i5dmD2J4x6RnEj9cVmcLJQZecwkLi368N-1v977F1sjtqzriGlBwrv8YP4pj/s320/IMG_2180.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jV5-_y2vwcJydDskwO2CcH1x9y_9xVVd7sEa0RKUy8sv_HBe2gJoBf-E3dLsZ2bXwd4bQCMrkc1T4sKPdHOLCI6WgRuugl3POLiNxtu9ykalo-4yyQD3yKRw84HDO9OW12IUPYGuXdL6/s1600/IMG_2185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jV5-_y2vwcJydDskwO2CcH1x9y_9xVVd7sEa0RKUy8sv_HBe2gJoBf-E3dLsZ2bXwd4bQCMrkc1T4sKPdHOLCI6WgRuugl3POLiNxtu9ykalo-4yyQD3yKRw84HDO9OW12IUPYGuXdL6/s320/IMG_2185.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Good Night France.</span></strong></div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-45518923745306064472011-09-17T21:35:00.000-07:002011-09-17T21:40:56.407-07:00Everythings coming up Roses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfO9kvnL0qc09vSQhzwc0k7r8qGMQd3YSPL-T7keeZzyOUEV2WKota0lJ_imwFYyN1bbMmUoMsWccjlErJwSdQ83EjLuN9Bmh3LcgkoReOO_2LhLb4-rugJt36SvOGuEtPoT-zGe9Kt3_/s1600/IMG_2149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfO9kvnL0qc09vSQhzwc0k7r8qGMQd3YSPL-T7keeZzyOUEV2WKota0lJ_imwFYyN1bbMmUoMsWccjlErJwSdQ83EjLuN9Bmh3LcgkoReOO_2LhLb4-rugJt36SvOGuEtPoT-zGe9Kt3_/s320/IMG_2149.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am the lucky one that gets to "see it all" and just when I think I have, I take a trip to Walmart or ride the light rail down to the Veterans Day parade. Why just yesterday I had seen more stuff by 9 am then most see in a week. The George Brazil Blimp landed in our back yard, the Sheriff's regular crew of Chain Gangs was working down by the canal, and Kevin Spacey was shaving on his way to work. All that before coffee, Wow. I do enjoy free entertainment...people are FUNNY!</div><div style="text-align: center;">My life is funny, hilarious actually! </div><div style="text-align: center;">Let me show you what I visualize my life looking like.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxxDc2nYzu2aBw_xET_d2a6O2YJKuxi-HyHElcw4CVQc2230RRcxdRh7XuSIEsKTytx74UINXOrOTN1Kyovn0jcxuy_ZkK5lww7612Nv_ob8Nf3JgJ-4vEPto5bBc82aWl3TRWonDSQGh/s1600/jenatbarn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxxDc2nYzu2aBw_xET_d2a6O2YJKuxi-HyHElcw4CVQc2230RRcxdRh7XuSIEsKTytx74UINXOrOTN1Kyovn0jcxuy_ZkK5lww7612Nv_ob8Nf3JgJ-4vEPto5bBc82aWl3TRWonDSQGh/s320/jenatbarn.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">There I am, actually ready for a hard day at work down at the reclaimed wood factory. Selecting the most beautiful wood to be turned into my new kitchen floors.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And here is my friend, she has the day off and is walking her dog (shedless, poopless, never eats dog) through the woods on her way to meet me and look at my new floors.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBSmNciSW5lGXtzPR3YL3Ls_XLRU2Z43AKi5ORO4DiWPp_5EEQ4vWaT8FgqA0Amlol6IHzhcHkz88XY3mI7Q2575-BVXUcWF7zgnICQSqKxRn1AHMJ1nYiAe7fPY6PmIDKDtNDb5ROyhp/s1600/erikawithdog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBSmNciSW5lGXtzPR3YL3Ls_XLRU2Z43AKi5ORO4DiWPp_5EEQ4vWaT8FgqA0Amlol6IHzhcHkz88XY3mI7Q2575-BVXUcWF7zgnICQSqKxRn1AHMJ1nYiAe7fPY6PmIDKDtNDb5ROyhp/s320/erikawithdog.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">insert screeching hault.</span></strong></div><div style="text-align: center;">Remember my life is FUNNY. So here is what this week acutally looked like. Now don't be judgemental, we've all laughed before...It's okay to now. I did, and then I kissed them.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dycb0V9asVkj-z43F_NiOv5yAh0ulSJG3h8VxDukrIheMYhcoAAe4NEWKiFtaksWCxN8pk_hV7ERZM3r7t7Ag' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-14291559128950486142011-09-02T21:56:00.000-07:002011-09-02T21:56:20.825-07:00One Giant LeapI remember when my first baby turned five...I held her on my lap at the end of her day, tears in my eyes, wondering where the time had gone, and if I had been enough for her? Five whole years of life gone by...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBEekH0aaCMPpHzURWUOi-E-ly6Oz4K6DeeYkJn_qMA6oFQ_f-z4t6INq4WI8M-kwW_IK61NkufWXDrHrAZXDXPLoPsv-hZYJHG8hwxDbnw4i3JlHMk9_kJZufURnGcW0-Skqmb0epybb/s1600/jonah9211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBEekH0aaCMPpHzURWUOi-E-ly6Oz4K6DeeYkJn_qMA6oFQ_f-z4t6INq4WI8M-kwW_IK61NkufWXDrHrAZXDXPLoPsv-hZYJHG8hwxDbnw4i3JlHMk9_kJZufURnGcW0-Skqmb0epybb/s320/jonah9211.jpg" width="238" xaa="true" /></a></div>Two years later....I have tucked in my five year old astronaut and I am sitting here with those exact feelings all over again. "Rice on My tux" I always say. Watch Father of the Bride if you have no idea what I am talking about. Five years of life.....<br />
Mostly I am proud of this Dude, and not because I was enough! Because God is good and trusting Him is making these years good and powerful. So Dearest Jonah, I pray for your continued growth in learning and trusting in God. That you would grow to be a mighty man of God and have a beautiful life on earth with Joy and Peace in your heart. You are the life of the Party and the King of laughter. Thank you for an amazing 5 years. I have no idea whats next with you, but I know it will be FUN and BIG!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpo-ee1guRh3k7ixmzozrcoueTq3aS57nzvMet1JlSftSpFvKr3qXKH8mRLFIcIEjPMo1O4_dYCI4gqg-4Gp6rHxOX1Of1yAZBuV90qlyPVcuTyAis5qp1sEZBiEu3e23405eK1A_D6bCk/s1600/IMG_8331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpo-ee1guRh3k7ixmzozrcoueTq3aS57nzvMet1JlSftSpFvKr3qXKH8mRLFIcIEjPMo1O4_dYCI4gqg-4Gp6rHxOX1Of1yAZBuV90qlyPVcuTyAis5qp1sEZBiEu3e23405eK1A_D6bCk/s320/IMG_8331.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div>Love your birthday bird, MOM<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQDfz7ERrscYsoPj6IVIVkma-1kQukkgWVxZ4jP5cKgU7ru2kgck6Fqb680jSzyINehaA6I_ji9pVI6kirG-PxnbkD9aXPYbWdY_NNV-EhXSK5zHEgHeBEMxlwNOvn1Egh7NYAmiJk0Io/s1600/IMG_8303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQDfz7ERrscYsoPj6IVIVkma-1kQukkgWVxZ4jP5cKgU7ru2kgck6Fqb680jSzyINehaA6I_ji9pVI6kirG-PxnbkD9aXPYbWdY_NNV-EhXSK5zHEgHeBEMxlwNOvn1Egh7NYAmiJk0Io/s320/IMG_8303.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-36752078317926407222011-08-30T20:34:00.000-07:002011-08-30T20:34:14.877-07:00Sew What!It's in the Jeans or Genes...One of those two. My mother is a seamstress and master quilter. But above that she is an artist. My Grandmothers could sew like the wind. They made girl clothing for five daughters, and barbie clothes for my dolls. So obviously I know how to sew! I can not make a boxed cake mix, but I can make you a mean set of drapes, dress, quilt or purse. Anyway, now it's time for the next Generation. <br />
<br />
First, modeling a house coat made by my Grandmother Metheney for my Dad, passed to Jonah and now to Phoebe. She has been wearing it every morning and after siesta, because the Diva is cold! She is concerned that there is only one pocket...she has an overflow of stuff to carry around and could really use that extra pocket Great Grandma.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXCNpIxVd5qbvVYXYZKhCWObjNG6ahmg2KehqCj4s2FrUq_7PrDjl-IHTu3_JcnN2-aVIBh90-15sYJPFP0BxIf7E8vD4wQAAfCF3yFgpymeKnwvnxHYFUm-fOMq2G-iXSHdGgK3SSS-r/s1600/IMG_8272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXCNpIxVd5qbvVYXYZKhCWObjNG6ahmg2KehqCj4s2FrUq_7PrDjl-IHTu3_JcnN2-aVIBh90-15sYJPFP0BxIf7E8vD4wQAAfCF3yFgpymeKnwvnxHYFUm-fOMq2G-iXSHdGgK3SSS-r/s320/IMG_8272.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOEGsPrO-1_Qkwt10gjEpkK8q5ja73osiKVpwFzYIP3HluNj7DnFBmW1FkzIRKP-ck2vGmF6ehlIlEbQmIA_xBXIB15Jri_bDnPzRcrOyPUFwG22Q2pu-s_WO4dXrZT2Bfwcf2oYgdtQr/s1600/IMG_8275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOEGsPrO-1_Qkwt10gjEpkK8q5ja73osiKVpwFzYIP3HluNj7DnFBmW1FkzIRKP-ck2vGmF6ehlIlEbQmIA_xBXIB15Jri_bDnPzRcrOyPUFwG22Q2pu-s_WO4dXrZT2Bfwcf2oYgdtQr/s320/IMG_8275.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div>Next, is Gwendolyn and her latest adventure. She has been having sewing lessons with Nana every week and has already developed the craft. Her machine was her 7th Birthday gift. We have recently discovered the Matilda Jane Clothing line for little girls. They use unique quality fabrics with prints. She has decided to make her own. Perhaps she will be an upcoming contestant on Project Runway Jr.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6Ixa4COLCjvfbiWo_QnO5NczreSDQYbGS1rzQRlN8qXui9wGq-ut70ihv9yNFucQDlkypaU36uMLJJHTg3I0DqNTXwdpYxifxremGzhBQJiMscKgG_aRZdnWOAj7qgaLM2JCJpRfoUhQ/s1600/IMG_8283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6Ixa4COLCjvfbiWo_QnO5NczreSDQYbGS1rzQRlN8qXui9wGq-ut70ihv9yNFucQDlkypaU36uMLJJHTg3I0DqNTXwdpYxifxremGzhBQJiMscKgG_aRZdnWOAj7qgaLM2JCJpRfoUhQ/s320/IMG_8283.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmCnwsFM0g7tp2PCpnjVXa-Msl9FA-LhPpDnZ03WdEAoRI_ormiiyYK8RWyvJmqwZJm4DzFQrCrJFOK82MA7ULKjmeNV_vP5PVvBteFgXB3N80NOrdrOvmUZJxbEOUSvAlOP7BuxhzJMq/s1600/IMG_8288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmCnwsFM0g7tp2PCpnjVXa-Msl9FA-LhPpDnZ03WdEAoRI_ormiiyYK8RWyvJmqwZJm4DzFQrCrJFOK82MA7ULKjmeNV_vP5PVvBteFgXB3N80NOrdrOvmUZJxbEOUSvAlOP7BuxhzJMq/s320/IMG_8288.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div>tomorrow will be all about the Dude...it is almost his Birthday anyway, He deserves some spotlight.yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-20348628088537921422011-08-28T19:35:00.000-07:002011-08-28T19:35:40.155-07:00A day in Australia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRvdfAG9VEHY-nuizmCVgIO6MTt8Ib00Ajop8KOc-DflPRbrANVE_EsgqeT0k7pL97XyXhfxN8KQ37OSjn3qcX7s-JcMgsKxeG2G1dBlxReqB947wN8nt5CgCEITP2ApOkJhyphenhyphen-V-PAz8I/s1600/IMG_8271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRvdfAG9VEHY-nuizmCVgIO6MTt8Ib00Ajop8KOc-DflPRbrANVE_EsgqeT0k7pL97XyXhfxN8KQ37OSjn3qcX7s-JcMgsKxeG2G1dBlxReqB947wN8nt5CgCEITP2ApOkJhyphenhyphen-V-PAz8I/s320/IMG_8271.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Today was just one of those days you wish you could either delete or do over. There were some fun moments (scuba diving with Dad), and some relaxing time (starbucks in our PJ's). But the meltdown mania was more time consuming then anything else...with Mine being the worst one! Being a perfect parent is IMPOSSIBLE. Lucky for me, my kids are forgiving and know just how to make me smile. After only one quick lesson in tissue flower making, Gwendloyn created a centerpiece for our family dinner. Justin cooked, so it not only looked pretty at the table, but it tasted delicious too. I am just reminding myself that "some days are like that...even in Australia.</div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-67218333996000322802011-08-25T13:25:00.000-07:002011-08-25T13:25:10.595-07:00Pride Rock<div style="text-align: center;">I spent the first half of my morning getting a polka dot pedicure with Phoebe.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Diva's choice for color and design and we are twins!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0ow_d2j5bmBGC7FE7VrzYm1M7PU1-ec0uy9xHv81AgbU_TcaII_3OgLLokzvtZXY5GpGChd1F6lom4tFIKRcCcIhs9GJ_89q8HWDBV2SWNZSYRsQhiv27rSC73l92O6nkiv0k-U6bc1R/s1600/picklepedi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0ow_d2j5bmBGC7FE7VrzYm1M7PU1-ec0uy9xHv81AgbU_TcaII_3OgLLokzvtZXY5GpGChd1F6lom4tFIKRcCcIhs9GJ_89q8HWDBV2SWNZSYRsQhiv27rSC73l92O6nkiv0k-U6bc1R/s320/picklepedi.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Obviously she is a pro. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The rest of the morning I pretended to be Cinderella. Mopping the floor, cleaning the toilets, sewing buttons on clothes, wash the dogs. Oh and biggest of all, vacuuming the couch!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyNFHYwvl0tWubl4pE8yIETL4gVWPK50pxvPhD71K7QAB76Y-3Mh7wjCI8AOnj7OLsUVJ8YzjdCt8i9veInIKwqu5hb_oPByrCtbQEX3Z0YQ5GjI777rEcW6Jqp_WV01n4rmb9RqsKwpa/s1600/IMG_8260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyNFHYwvl0tWubl4pE8yIETL4gVWPK50pxvPhD71K7QAB76Y-3Mh7wjCI8AOnj7OLsUVJ8YzjdCt8i9veInIKwqu5hb_oPByrCtbQEX3Z0YQ5GjI777rEcW6Jqp_WV01n4rmb9RqsKwpa/s320/IMG_8260.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>So when it is not about the children, it is about the dogs. Seriously 5 minutes after I finish vacuuming and they are back in position on "Pride Rock", as Gwendolyn likes to call it. So much for my hairless furniture. <br />
So maybe you are wondering how I relax, now that you have seen Phoebe and the dogs all Chilled out? <br />
No need...I just levitate, blink my eyes, twitch my nose. Refreshed.yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-32049867897800928572011-08-22T17:09:00.000-07:002011-08-22T17:09:02.852-07:00Great Minds, think differently<div style="text-align: center;">As mom of the year, I plan after school activities (distractions from arguing).</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Todays activity: Paint your own robot or ice cream cone. Fun RIGHT???</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlAqB6gRmusA2FB9b4j2RTO45r_UIq9hSMNE5qXgwdyZY47cosSn6IMQBRc80_bOzPmkDFPpjkTCzfgGw0oljbBwyvQHtu2y0-ycY0wdWdNIbJbuIMwaFUH_Zl1YQ5fzqQTMdw5jl2LTp/s1600/IMG_8251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlAqB6gRmusA2FB9b4j2RTO45r_UIq9hSMNE5qXgwdyZY47cosSn6IMQBRc80_bOzPmkDFPpjkTCzfgGw0oljbBwyvQHtu2y0-ycY0wdWdNIbJbuIMwaFUH_Zl1YQ5fzqQTMdw5jl2LTp/s320/IMG_8251.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Not really. They fought over paint colors and artistic choices and we called it off 30 min later. My kitchen table is now blue polka dot and the chair cushions are 80's splatter paint. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_vS7ut44T1le99q00O6tJI-But0rvomkDxh3yUB_mKMKEpljLcde48rW6a3cMBU1E-8zFPzZoOrT1UHr-4QibhVv0t1517dFgaW65z7OVYVH0fxYYbq8ucpxeshqbaqbLCoFtdZ0YTc-h/s1600/IMG_8258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_vS7ut44T1le99q00O6tJI-But0rvomkDxh3yUB_mKMKEpljLcde48rW6a3cMBU1E-8zFPzZoOrT1UHr-4QibhVv0t1517dFgaW65z7OVYVH0fxYYbq8ucpxeshqbaqbLCoFtdZ0YTc-h/s320/IMG_8258.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The real fun was afterward. When they used their own minds to create fun. On tap: filling up Galoshes to stomp around making foot prints, and making a series of canals with mud and stones. Popsicle included!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Maybe tomorrow I wont have anything planned.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy4eeSrJpB9X2iMwst8jlT-f5FMufQFqCzVNaj2t7rgY8oqzLPLuV51C9txS0YLO7iXQMgjiibrx2eqp9YRVw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-32719639969285805432011-08-20T18:42:00.000-07:002011-08-20T18:42:29.661-07:00The Heat is On<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpC03Ubo30KTP4NCAIP4n-MzygcI9MGNkpzQzqpQ5znT2B4j1mZ1P57CMvQwimJvPT5H_zt8FoiW4x-aJPA-Ak5XjHYOhKSzv2jgYctk_XxW9etXxEAHWPp1lO6gupEvy2GFvqA1twh9m/s1600/IMG_8235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpC03Ubo30KTP4NCAIP4n-MzygcI9MGNkpzQzqpQ5znT2B4j1mZ1P57CMvQwimJvPT5H_zt8FoiW4x-aJPA-Ak5XjHYOhKSzv2jgYctk_XxW9etXxEAHWPp1lO6gupEvy2GFvqA1twh9m/s320/IMG_8235.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>When I was young I danced at a Rams Football game with a thousand other toddlers in tiaras to Glenn Frey's "The heat is On". I was bopping and poppin, lockin, and dropping all over that football field. <br />
As a grown up, I laugh at this. Not because of the scene (it was awesome), but because when I was a kid I don't remember sweating, and if I did, I don't remember caring about it. <br />
Now however, sweating is not an option unless I am going to do it to myself on Purpose for a specific reason. All this to say; I love the Bikram Yoga. I have been practicing for 6 years and love every min. I do hate doing it though. The classes are 90 min in a heated and humidified room. OUCH. So this is where I sweat!<br />
<br />
Gwendolyn and Jonah have been going to a kid friendly version of this class with some of thier friends. The room isnt heated, but today, in the depths of the AZ summer, it was HOT. Here are the girls showing us there stuff. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rnsUr_U43bhENtWJ9GDQ38f133KF9euc2911W0lpLxz9Ioqv2uEvt7aav2LQ160B0aRrl0JF_2KwtgCUqSb8VP2CU_exYtI-qowMiuPezU31XRQYfh9QmkJXV820rowfsZns6lPP7lzZ/s1600/IMG_8227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rnsUr_U43bhENtWJ9GDQ38f133KF9euc2911W0lpLxz9Ioqv2uEvt7aav2LQ160B0aRrl0JF_2KwtgCUqSb8VP2CU_exYtI-qowMiuPezU31XRQYfh9QmkJXV820rowfsZns6lPP7lzZ/s320/IMG_8227.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-mU-YSk32I">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-mU-YSk32I</a>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-59148497185710126412011-08-19T08:26:00.000-07:002011-08-19T08:26:36.740-07:00Szechuan Si'l Vous Plait<div style="text-align: center;">I do not cook, I do not like to cook. However...I have a dear friend who encourages me through her own efforts to feed her family. So, while she can sit and search for recipes with joy...I can sample and repeat!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Most important is that my kids will eat it, and that it is good for us!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The first recipe, I described to them as peanut butter macaroni. It went over well, but make sure you use fun noodles and less garlic then called for. <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/szechuan-noodles-recipe/index.html">http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/szechuan-noodles-recipe/index.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYnvrRm5nmhDvrM1xm5PL7wGCWfoVdfxndJ1mMjXcSJa71QyaNVKyqYU0C0hd6qbUJkpSamJ0Bdo3xAzt6UCiYaNtVU7syxdx9TrWR0uzFcPWNpKVs9qpsqHOzE_Z37Ph5QeAxokPqgw2/s1600/IMG_8219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYnvrRm5nmhDvrM1xm5PL7wGCWfoVdfxndJ1mMjXcSJa71QyaNVKyqYU0C0hd6qbUJkpSamJ0Bdo3xAzt6UCiYaNtVU7syxdx9TrWR0uzFcPWNpKVs9qpsqHOzE_Z37Ph5QeAxokPqgw2/s320/IMG_8219.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbU2YYxmuQzKPdeeBW9ygSiBFlDDAHrnPuk-yespvPhm4V70zXx_CuF78C2E7H1CzDNhbkgZ_TTo4yhi75HiF3hiUGeEXVv7XoER8mUQm-67tkq0pkcTP0t7PVZbopRA-pmMMp0UTTN0Tn/s1600/IMG_8220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbU2YYxmuQzKPdeeBW9ygSiBFlDDAHrnPuk-yespvPhm4V70zXx_CuF78C2E7H1CzDNhbkgZ_TTo4yhi75HiF3hiUGeEXVv7XoER8mUQm-67tkq0pkcTP0t7PVZbopRA-pmMMp0UTTN0Tn/s320/IMG_8220.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYZT5-LfozudTXv08J3pr4mf71OZw6r06aLzy_HtZWtpykjy1q2-dftvaj9r0XPqiXTonDfyu2ozmggH2zEEkL1fJ7rTOpi98NMAHLyBK5I1q6drN9p2JSsUDS4n4cp1y2Mg6RE9iUP3c/s1600/IMG_8222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYZT5-LfozudTXv08J3pr4mf71OZw6r06aLzy_HtZWtpykjy1q2-dftvaj9r0XPqiXTonDfyu2ozmggH2zEEkL1fJ7rTOpi98NMAHLyBK5I1q6drN9p2JSsUDS4n4cp1y2Mg6RE9iUP3c/s320/IMG_8222.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Satisfied Customer</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The second reciepe is packed full of goodness and they have know idea. Bon Appetit</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/linguine-with-avocado-and-arugula-pesto-recipe/index.html">http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/linguine-with-avocado-and-arugula-pesto-recipe/index.html</a></div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-60249274246101099772011-08-17T17:06:00.000-07:002011-08-18T13:15:32.661-07:00Volcanic TweedSo, as I set sail on this adventure of journaling my life, I realize that I am lacking some skills.<br />
I am going to have to squeeze in some tutoring sessions.<br />
Number 1: Digital camera user Grade: Fail<br />
Number 2: Science Project coordinator Grade D-<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2dZxewM9ehYj5psXNgmYnEtsPbdkfbLfEU6Sx0vrohE-t06dgIC7fV0e0VvlZ3qx7bkAGwIqPYLAm1X3zhCOA6rGSQAhWGh3znbqCI9D8bBaSIl9WsdX2JFK98sL_41H_6Q438rd-bWkE/s1600/IMG_2133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2dZxewM9ehYj5psXNgmYnEtsPbdkfbLfEU6Sx0vrohE-t06dgIC7fV0e0VvlZ3qx7bkAGwIqPYLAm1X3zhCOA6rGSQAhWGh3znbqCI9D8bBaSIl9WsdX2JFK98sL_41H_6Q438rd-bWkE/s320/IMG_2133.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The Gwendolyns enjoyed a "Project Runway" fabric discovery circa 1965<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwr8kT_r7SrJjJtDUVpRtIiMVbWxwhR-zp3-tm0KmqXpjv-oFvO6nLXnyyiUEj8EQRPr_N55B-P3if_oDLwZw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
We all smiled and wowed for Mom's make shift volcano. Although it did include glitter and colored lava,<br />
the height of the explosion was unimpressive.yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2577990350366565041.post-55005101660772528292011-08-16T12:26:00.000-07:002011-08-16T12:26:50.144-07:00Gotta start somewhere<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznUNWpDmERn6myLWAV8oSYbambaO1RtiJ0tbF0TB4blpWrKI3H96a0TGxvsZLtVrXsLsCQTXttq5s5S2u7M8xaleWBEZnRbGX5gh2Sk11M2vw-m2f26myylfbUHjFbhIm5_v3-M_gpvKD/s1600/Cain+Family+Favorite-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznUNWpDmERn6myLWAV8oSYbambaO1RtiJ0tbF0TB4blpWrKI3H96a0TGxvsZLtVrXsLsCQTXttq5s5S2u7M8xaleWBEZnRbGX5gh2Sk11M2vw-m2f26myylfbUHjFbhIm5_v3-M_gpvKD/s320/Cain+Family+Favorite-19.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>In an attempt to journal this year much more than I did last year....I will be a blogger.<br />
Inspired by some of you creative friends and families, here I go off into the wild blue yonder.<br />
Luckly I have a pair of ruby slippers (except they are rainbow) if I get lost.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDR1d4avQiaqWmjWLuhpQDd2h3ahsSx98ADtEDUbMuPIXB5eNPf7-yXPUVa7JMrTrScl00xzr27YntncosYWTcQrj4Id_Xr7JPu-ru84h3eHV3LQz7HDY0Ehdcv1mDSk_G4JhIMsNwJMRk/s1600/rainbow+shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDR1d4avQiaqWmjWLuhpQDd2h3ahsSx98ADtEDUbMuPIXB5eNPf7-yXPUVa7JMrTrScl00xzr27YntncosYWTcQrj4Id_Xr7JPu-ru84h3eHV3LQz7HDY0Ehdcv1mDSk_G4JhIMsNwJMRk/s320/rainbow+shoes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>yogabughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04831464253954267640noreply@blogger.com0