tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40362471912567852462024-02-21T04:15:20.274-05:00Hannie Mannie and NoraLindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-56853555866232584932013-08-18T23:55:00.002-04:002013-08-18T23:57:20.666-04:00Don't Look At The Header!I am leaving for France in a few weeks. I need to pack. I need to finish the dress I'm making to wear to my cousin's wedding. I need to get my house in order after the marathon sewing fest. But no, I've decided that it is oh so important to fulfill one of my yearly goals and learn how to navigate Photoshop Elements well enough to create pieces and parts for my blog. Yeah, that makes sense. Because I guess I plan on wearing the blog in Europe. Hence the titile. Don't look at the header. This is the 4th iteration of said header today. I can't get the size right. And I need to start obsessing about the real things I need to obsess about.<br />
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I've actually made tons of progress on my packing for France project. I wanted to take just a few lightweight knits that would mix and match with each other. A couple of skirts, a couple of pairs of pants, a couple of tees plus the dress for the wedding. </div>
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My skirt photos are on my iPad, so I'll show them later. Below is the gorgeous fabric for my dress and the slip that goes under it. It is sheer and light and floats like a breeze. </div>
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Here's the pattern - just a simple shift dress with a bit of a flounce over a sea green slip...</div>
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Juli knows something's up and she does not like it...</div>
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Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-4124527772918158802013-08-15T19:17:00.000-04:002013-08-15T19:17:43.001-04:00Absent Way Too LongI haven't posted in forever and I miss it. For me blogging is not about others. I don't think many people read this. But it does keep me focused. It keeps me getting things done and helps me realize that I do accomplish things from time to time.
I've been diving into my love of textiles head first and I love it. I've knitted up a storm this spring and summer. My cousin Helen has had her first baby. Her name is Solene Virginia and she lives in Paris. She is named after my father's sister, Virginia. Virginia was a character of the highest order. Picture this scene. Virginia well into her 80's. A Mexican restaurant in Los Angeles. You have to walk in through the bar to the dining room. A football game playing on the TV. Virginia asks one of the gentlemen sitting at the bar "who's winning?". We walk into the dining room and Virginia turns and says in a stage whisper "I think he thought I was trying to pick him up".
This is a bit of a convoluted story, but since I don't think anybody really reads this blog - that's ok! When I was pregnant with my first baby a box arrived from Virginia. She was an avid knitter. She taught me to knit when I was a very little girl. The box was full of hand knits for my baby. I was more than thrilled. My own mother was not thrilled that I was expecting. Another long story we don't need to get into right now. So, when Virginia's oldest grand daughter was expecting a baby girl I wanted to send a box of hand knits for her to carry on the tradition.
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And because Aunt Virginia knit in good old fashioned acrylic, the things she knit will withstand Armageddon. I was able to include a blanket that was in that box I received from Virginia 39 years ago this summer.</div>
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The blanket that kept my oldest daughter warm is now wrapping Virginia's great grand dauther Solene. I will be meeting Solene in September and I can't wait.</div>
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Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-90199607518844461192013-03-17T23:11:00.000-04:002013-03-17T23:11:00.354-04:00You Can Go BackWe live in a fast paced world. I am astonished that I have not posted on here in forever. I blame the iPad. I love my iPad and it is perfect for everything except blogging and writing.<br />
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I'm just back from a wonderful week in Port Charlotte FL with my BFF and college roommate Carol. Carol and I lost touch for a number of years, but a few years ago we reconnected. It was like no time passed. Strangely, even though we were out of touch for a while, our interests grew in similar ways. Both of us love exploring, art, creating things. We can get on the phone and have a two hour conversation over Pinterest.<br />
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The time in Florida really was magical. We spent a day on a gorgeous, almost deserted beach. We shopped a little in boutiques, vowing to remember every high priced item we saw because we can replicate for 1/10th of the cost. We took the trip one day at a time....and spent some of those days with our 3rd roommate Brenda.<br />
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We found a world class bead store. If you are ever near Port Charlotte and you like to play with shiny objects - this is your place!<br />
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<a href="http://www.andersonsbeadroom.com/">Anderson's Bead Room</a><br />
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Carol and I made one or two (maybe 5) visits. In the old days we enabled each other with Boone's Farm Apple Wine and Sloe Gin Fizzes. Now the enabling takes the shape of turquoise and crystals and glass lampwork beads. We'd have been better off financially to buy a bottle of Boones Farm and call it good! But we had such fun. We made bracelets, necklaces, bookmarks and I'm pretty sure both of us may have several more beads waiting in the wings to become something wonderful.<br />
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We painted watercolors on the lanai. Carol's talent amazes me as I try to make it look like I've got 3rd grade a few years behind me in the paintings I do.</div>
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We went to Happy Hour at The Tikki Bar where the drinks were $2.50 and the view of the sunset free. It's the perfect recipe for a great vacation. Bring your old chairs and gather around the firepits. Drink tropical drinks (no sloe gin to be found) along side a person with whom you bonded in 1969 in a cement block dormitory in the middle of Michigan. There was nothing you couldn't tell her then and there's nothing you can't tell her now. A lifetime of memories is shared and many more are yet to be created. But the one thing I know, with special people you can go back. You can go home again. </div>
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You can just be and that is the very best vacation of all. </div>
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Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-66536646983269022192012-07-14T23:45:00.002-04:002012-07-15T12:41:08.948-04:00Conversation With ClutterIt all started with the idea that I wanted to simplify my life. Don't all great de-cluttering adventures begin like that? I've learned some things about myself while on this quest to get rid of <i>stuff</i>.<br />
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<li>Stuff is sneaky. No matter how many boxes and bags are donated, more stuff magically appears that I need to go through. </li>
<li>Stuff makes you talk to yourself. "Do I really need this? Do I really need two cake stands? Do I even need one cake stand?"</li>
<li>Getting rid of stuff makes you deal with emotional stuff...like guilt. Just because my dear former assistant crocheted me a toilet paper cover does not mean that its forever home is with me. My friend passed away last year and though I am not a crocheted TP cover person I hesitated to get rid of it. I felt guilty because it seemed that I was disrespecting the sweet loving person she was. Then I realized this bit of yarn is not my friend. It has nothing to do with my fond memories of her. And someone else will enjoy it. I will enjoy the memories of my dear friend. </li>
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Donated:</div>
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<li>I need to be hypnotized into never saying the words "I might need it someday". I will never need all the vases I've received flowers in. The thing is when you get more flowers they usually come with a vase. One nice vase put away in my cupboard with do.</li>
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Donated:</div>
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Stuff is just that - stuff. In my case most of it is a result of impulse buying. My days of impulse buying are over. I have moved into impulse purging of things I just don't need. I will never be a minimalist, although I do love the clean lines and simplicity of their lifestyle. My eye likes busy-ness. I like groupings of lots of artwork, a variety of textures and color. I like eclectic and I like quirky and I like feminine romantic style decor. </div>
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My new mantra is "Is it something I really use? Is it something I really love?" If it isn't - poof. Gone. </div>
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I feel like it's taking forever, but I do see light at the end of the tunnel. I will have "after" photos soon. My bedroom is almost done. My closet is a thing of beauty. </div>
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Stuff happens...then it gets donated and hopefully goes to a home where someone will really use it and enjoy it. And my home gets clearer and simpler. I have labels on things like organized people do. It feels good. And I can actually find the chargers for my camera. Can the charger for my cordless drill be far behind? </div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-52146056938857083152012-04-06T12:45:00.000-04:002012-04-06T12:45:06.289-04:00Where did the time go?I keep thinking- I really should blog. This blog is how many of my family members keep in touch. I am a horrible letter writer! The letters I write aren't horrible. It's just one of those things that if I think about doing it enough I start to believe I've done it. In my mind I have written numerous letters to all the people in my life. In my real life I have not written a real letter since I believed 40 was really old. When I opened HM&N and saw that I hadn't posted since October I was shocked. I thought it had been about 6 weeks.<br />
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Lots has gone on since I last blogged and at some point I will get to all of it. For now I am more than thankful that my sweet kitty has survived emergency eye surgery. Her eye had ruptured due to a viral infection. One day I had a very healthy kitty, the next day she was in the hospital. She's fine now, but what an ordeal. When my girls gave me my kitty I promised to be a good animal guardian and provide a good home for her- because she needed a home. I did not intend to get attached. I am a dog person. When I thought something might happen to her I was devastated. When I tearfully told my daughter that I hadn't intended to get attached she said "that boat sailed long ago". Indeed it did.<br />
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You have to look for humor in everything.... and this "eye chart" in the veterinary ophthalmologist's office was just the best:<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I had to give Juli 4 different eye meds and 1 oral med every 3 to 4 hours. She was SUCH a good girl. I wrapped her in a towel and she just let me do whatever I needed to do without one complaint. I set up a kitty care center in one of my bathrooms. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQgCBP2StJcFwoIvDuTxvEfaNAO8Zz7umcCWICMR6KLkigRKLr1smOPTuBQZaOAwNpsy3Qu3frRMQqd3QKEthepWazmwKnjLxesgRo6pMiQ1wlKor3HszGivk5VcnpdsPij4jL3aDcWSz/s1600/IMG_0247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQgCBP2StJcFwoIvDuTxvEfaNAO8Zz7umcCWICMR6KLkigRKLr1smOPTuBQZaOAwNpsy3Qu3frRMQqd3QKEthepWazmwKnjLxesgRo6pMiQ1wlKor3HszGivk5VcnpdsPij4jL3aDcWSz/s640/IMG_0247.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>She was very docile the 4 weeks she had to wear the collar. But once the collar came off she was mad at me for 3 or 4 days.<br />
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But now, all is well and she seems to love her momma again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-7947275071472413702011-10-03T23:51:00.000-04:002011-10-03T23:51:01.031-04:00Sanctuary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I've started this post several times. I end up either deleting it or writing about something else. I've needed to process the events of this summer and usually writing helps me do that. Not so this time. My home is my sanctuary. It is not always as organized, sparkly clean or orderly as I would like, but it is my home. It is where I get to enjoy the hobbies I love. <br />
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At the beginning of August at 10:15 PM someone broke into my home. While I sat in the front of the house watching TV this person pried the screen off the window in the room where I was knitting and watching TV. I never heard him. He didn't get in that way, but went to my back door. Apparently I'd left it unlocked while I was out watering my plants earlier in the day.<br />
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</div><div>I went into the kitchen to get some water and found my door wide open and someone running away. I screamed "Oh my God!" and closed and locked the door. The funny thing is, I still didn't get it. All I could think of was my kitty, Juli. Juli was a gift from my daughter after she rescued her from the city streets of Baltimore. I was so afraid she'd gotten out. Losing Juli is something I cannot even stand to think about. She came to me at the same time I lost my sweet dog, Samantha. She is not a replacement for Samantha- she has her own place in my heart and in my life. She's my constant companion and the sweetest kitty in the world. </div><div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Samantha</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juli</td></tr>
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The thief took my wallet out of my purse, jars of loose change and my sense of serenity. I am still processing the fact that someone was going through my closet in my bedroom while I sat in the front of the house. I've installed a ridiculously expensive alarm system and I wear the remote panic button around my neck like a prison warden. I still obsessively check my doors to make sure they are locked.<br />
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As totally creepy as it was, good has come from it. I've always wanted to learn to meditate and what better time than now? The stress relief from my quiet time is amazing. I'm re-reading one of my all time favorite books- Simple Abundance. I'm writing in my journal and I'm working through it. In the end, my sense of sanctuary does not come from my house. It comes from the people and animals I love. It comes from books and hobbies and learning and exploring. And it is not something that anybody- even a burglar - can take from me. </div></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-23480279280637718112011-09-05T15:32:00.003-04:002011-09-06T00:31:58.211-04:00Going GreenI've been a total slacker as a blogger lately. Stressful summer. Burglary at my house. Earthquake. Hurricane. But I'll write about all that later- first a few words about my latest obsession.<br />
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It all started with cans of cat food. I didn't used to recycle. I mean as in even last year. Yeah, I know that is reprehensible, but I'm just being honest. It seemed like recycling was the equivalent of a part time job. I was <s>lazy</s> clueless. I wasn't sure how to separate, tie up and prepare my recyclables for their journey to their new lives as journals, shopping bags and whatever it is that cat food cans become when they grow up. Then came Juli- a very spoiled kitty who only likes canned food. And I was embarrassed by the amount of tin cans I was throwing in the regular trash every week. (ssssshhhhh, don't tell on me)<br />
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So I Googled it and discovered that all I need to do is rinse the cans, and put them and all their recyclable siblings like cardboard, wine bottles and the like into the same blue container.<br />
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Easy peasy. (Keeping with the green theme- I do love a theme!)<br />
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And after that somewhat <i>corny</i> segue to vegetables and being green.....<br />
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I now spend my mornings drinking <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Green Smoothies</span></b> made in my new Vitamix. This is a blender with a motor that can pull a boat, that costs more than my entire dinner at my wedding cost (it <i>was</i> 1971). I'm making Dr. Oz's version. I love them. They are filling. They <s>kill</s> severely injure my cravings for sweets and help me stick with my newly declared vegetarianism. More on that in another post.<br />
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Dr. Oz's Green Smoothie:<br />
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<blockquote style="font-family: Helvetica;" type="cite"><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">1 cup spinach</div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">1 large apple</div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">parsley</div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">1/2 inch ginger</div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">4 stalks celery</div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">1 cucumber</div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">juice of 1 lemon and 1 lime</div></blockquote><br />
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I add some ice to make it real cold, a small amount of pure fruit juice (oj, pomagranite etc.). I also add a bit of real cold water to make it thinner. I don't like my smoothies thick like chocolate malts. I like chocolate malts thick like chocolate malts!<br />
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<div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;">Oprah says this tastes like a glass of freshness- and I have to say, I actually agree. The lemon and lime are key!</div></div><div style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-78850334723994437212011-07-25T01:20:00.000-04:002011-07-25T01:20:21.463-04:00Teddy Bear Picnic<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The 4th Of July means a road trip to Michigan. Every year my cousin and I pack up the car with everything we own plus her dog Boo. Boo is the best little traveler! Twelve hours in the car and never a word of complaint from The Boo Girl. </span></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Michigan was beautiful and peaceful and restful as always.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hZ_IlAviqYsOhVox5x8O1fsAZL48bXSd0ArUFhncE6-3n66KQdznk4VxMAf7hoJK7H5b4XoM4wsVgTQq6vcvVWAaSy8K41GfIoLCMEZ2UyDMkXQJ4yG6gS7Au3AZkA5R4KTcVJS_JnHe/s1600/IMG_3632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hZ_IlAviqYsOhVox5x8O1fsAZL48bXSd0ArUFhncE6-3n66KQdznk4VxMAf7hoJK7H5b4XoM4wsVgTQq6vcvVWAaSy8K41GfIoLCMEZ2UyDMkXQJ4yG6gS7Au3AZkA5R4KTcVJS_JnHe/s320/IMG_3632.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> My Florida cousin, Sue, arrived with her 4 amazing teenagers and the good times began. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There were fireworks and the small town America 4th of July parade:</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJi1x5Asb7vEZdUhTrK47JqFunnwIIDIg0mIqfTmYvd_nBaOVEfyO2EFTLVyFLsYWY5WJkf-ZxSGT1CyXUQkYC9ktr4d_H9AEIY4N9mrvz587COllZCoYbDYV-ElmJchUGLCoRE9Ppa2H/s1600/IMG_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJi1x5Asb7vEZdUhTrK47JqFunnwIIDIg0mIqfTmYvd_nBaOVEfyO2EFTLVyFLsYWY5WJkf-ZxSGT1CyXUQkYC9ktr4d_H9AEIY4N9mrvz587COllZCoYbDYV-ElmJchUGLCoRE9Ppa2H/s320/IMG_0027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUPlED3fvsBJhMnErC4p1Ae-U841wLODasVKDBvujFn9KqLPEbWR7h12xHlok_LOQ8JNevl86wPiigY58Hv98E9PScra1WUNuo7aI0GlqmL5oARVbMkFxu60TTM7YbkxBaEpcDyFlkfew/s1600/IMG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUPlED3fvsBJhMnErC4p1Ae-U841wLODasVKDBvujFn9KqLPEbWR7h12xHlok_LOQ8JNevl86wPiigY58Hv98E9PScra1WUNuo7aI0GlqmL5oARVbMkFxu60TTM7YbkxBaEpcDyFlkfew/s320/IMG_0010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>My Uncle on the VFW "float". He was the Veteran Of The Year 2 years ago:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxOilBvgBAm1vL9A1SaD4CXJVKYcJtyAonSXStllqATfZvvP6oryOJ69knfDI8KmLI2TaOni354reGqO0pzGpbnR8gYc-aEwyZPZSf886Rdh_HDte1LeJk_03AZAp6-yrT8NY2seI3Sya/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxOilBvgBAm1vL9A1SaD4CXJVKYcJtyAonSXStllqATfZvvP6oryOJ69knfDI8KmLI2TaOni354reGqO0pzGpbnR8gYc-aEwyZPZSf886Rdh_HDte1LeJk_03AZAp6-yrT8NY2seI3Sya/s320/IMG_0014.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;">And of course the Outhouse Float. It was done very tastefully in that the woman pretending to be using the outhouse with her pants around her ankles carefully disguised the fact that she had other clothes on. As I said, tasteful. (Of course there's a photo! Nobody would believe it was real if there wasn't a photo!)</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/AVvXsEi5AOm2T8FqnKDPYIgc1eo9BIs3igzJdOjkL-Nu2GOLbTl5Y3RKzyiCPTsEv-Fv7y101ygFnv-4pE6dCmWKTaOxxWz1z-AZePnK8w7hwD5lscSwZyimqW0D3y6-lgaQ6u8v4L2uNjaVtM3g/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AOm2T8FqnKDPYIgc1eo9BIs3igzJdOjkL-Nu2GOLbTl5Y3RKzyiCPTsEv-Fv7y101ygFnv-4pE6dCmWKTaOxxWz1z-AZePnK8w7hwD5lscSwZyimqW0D3y6-lgaQ6u8v4L2uNjaVtM3g/s320/IMG_0021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The first part of the week we hovered around the TV watching the Casey Anthony trial. We were at an art store in Houghton Lake when the verdict came in. Luckily Arnie’s Art Supplies has a coffee shop with a TV. I think the jurors watched a different trial than I did. I respect the verdict, but I don't like the verdict. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqksUAes4MPsDwXZQtxKCHORfNXOcPlsyTyu7zmfSvy_qoLuPseCmTur2QESOK_G4mkXVq7ni_ZmRl-GAPnt_fIWVANe347u6bHjDALwlt_UMGKsTMNXMeNwzeKL4MJdqwb4-aebR5bfA9/s1600/IMG_0086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqksUAes4MPsDwXZQtxKCHORfNXOcPlsyTyu7zmfSvy_qoLuPseCmTur2QESOK_G4mkXVq7ni_ZmRl-GAPnt_fIWVANe347u6bHjDALwlt_UMGKsTMNXMeNwzeKL4MJdqwb4-aebR5bfA9/s320/IMG_0086.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;"></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Next we played with our art supplies. We made mixed media pieces. We made collages. All day and into the wee hours of the morning we played at our artistic endeavors. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Gw2R_wLUjOO4KLidIf5L3pZlkuahr0koiChXSCp_kHMJD81oIKMuWUo5e7pjG1pDOGtDDCPWGYFnOlZCbCWVw9ZTpTvysKPYVpXa0IV0ozfJnrHTIOdxFjvqyE3JTb6r8RKT6BUNxWV-/s1600/IMG_3550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Gw2R_wLUjOO4KLidIf5L3pZlkuahr0koiChXSCp_kHMJD81oIKMuWUo5e7pjG1pDOGtDDCPWGYFnOlZCbCWVw9ZTpTvysKPYVpXa0IV0ozfJnrHTIOdxFjvqyE3JTb6r8RKT6BUNxWV-/s320/IMG_3550.JPG" width="305" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">No trip to Michigan is complete without a night camping in the woods. Well, actually, that is not true. My trip is quite complete without a night in a tent. However, the 4 kids camped by a lake with their mom and their Uncle John. They had a campfire. They made S’mores. They slept under the stars. And in the morning they awoke to find Mama Bear and Baby Bear tracks right by their tent. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAKrXpCI1B9ykQ9Z5jFjKtguAzJe1goNrh4biSjwGTn_vfv5WLrHglbS7YKR9niLJmrS2qhj_m4_PgHFMGSUMjtMf_MtJPC_8SGjf6nBdR7t_BBG-vs2gFsdlp-x2J1_OnbnfCBTV01CZ/s1600/IMG_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAKrXpCI1B9ykQ9Z5jFjKtguAzJe1goNrh4biSjwGTn_vfv5WLrHglbS7YKR9niLJmrS2qhj_m4_PgHFMGSUMjtMf_MtJPC_8SGjf6nBdR7t_BBG-vs2gFsdlp-x2J1_OnbnfCBTV01CZ/s320/IMG_0035.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/AVvXsEgFk2RCesSJfr4e_iAP5Hyor0fb9rPw1dUNor2lYW9NXn8J1tCp8pHyBDxXL_Kv5i8XD_lfDlDQfv8uY3eGlEJFm5aKt5gC4WgRsL6qHTuiQkRVYsXdBDTksw7xrlD2LTTqNTDMsYvuqmB5/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFk2RCesSJfr4e_iAP5Hyor0fb9rPw1dUNor2lYW9NXn8J1tCp8pHyBDxXL_Kv5i8XD_lfDlDQfv8uY3eGlEJFm5aKt5gC4WgRsL6qHTuiQkRVYsXdBDTksw7xrlD2LTTqNTDMsYvuqmB5/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMla80I1GsDBOyCG1Sa5wiOL2Ah-rBpDJo3Yyy-nGs9JIsc466-exdSgXkdTXEPVYoHNT43CLSgY9HKNM1wABf2QYPn5csrVLblutgzur0zB9Ds_5t-VQmz1j9D2v8D2m5McEHQ1TQoAw1/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMla80I1GsDBOyCG1Sa5wiOL2Ah-rBpDJo3Yyy-nGs9JIsc466-exdSgXkdTXEPVYoHNT43CLSgY9HKNM1wABf2QYPn5csrVLblutgzur0zB9Ds_5t-VQmz1j9D2v8D2m5McEHQ1TQoAw1/s320/IMG_0036.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;"></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It’s rumored that bears love S’mores. And somewhere in the woods of Northern Michigan there are two bears with marshmallow whiskers.</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The visit is never long enough. It is very rare that we all get together. In honor of the occasion I lifted the ban on photos of myself and we posed for a family photo. It’s amazing to look at the lives that have been created because an L.A. girl married a Michigan boy 50+ years ago. My aunt and uncle have every reason to be proud of their children, grandchildren and maybe even their niece! </span></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJJifJuOBAxfcZfVKmSeEeXPfvGtcMkpjy7PqJOCDPzR2iwA9bu8RU3Va0mic7joIuGY0W3_HD4cqDz4urmZtXRMeYQhzvPB23xCNYhZ2281ctb1E1qFuIznfsKDaG8-bRX2CwGxidG0i/s1600/IMG_3670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJJifJuOBAxfcZfVKmSeEeXPfvGtcMkpjy7PqJOCDPzR2iwA9bu8RU3Va0mic7joIuGY0W3_HD4cqDz4urmZtXRMeYQhzvPB23xCNYhZ2281ctb1E1qFuIznfsKDaG8-bRX2CwGxidG0i/s320/IMG_3670.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><br />
<div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And no, I am not in this version of the photo. I was focusing the camera. I have not lifted the ban on photos of myself on the internet. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Meanwhile, back in Maryland- somebody was not happy about being left behind while that </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">DOG</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> got to go to Michigan:</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVrNdJy9whGlojmTTqPMptLmpTJfLwD4dnnEAk8q9qUAonFLIxPZHJfwO6QVUXrbtgMUnqxQ_z1eOrnPVKfmc2a6yqa6F8PyOl2G4wRPioitonlthx3NRKpBhweJr5uCz8PEy2Wa923bx/s1600/IMG_3192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVrNdJy9whGlojmTTqPMptLmpTJfLwD4dnnEAk8q9qUAonFLIxPZHJfwO6QVUXrbtgMUnqxQ_z1eOrnPVKfmc2a6yqa6F8PyOl2G4wRPioitonlthx3NRKpBhweJr5uCz8PEy2Wa923bx/s320/IMG_3192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div></span></div></div></span></div></span></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-31197320007609318162011-06-23T21:03:00.001-04:002011-06-23T21:05:57.254-04:00Achieving BalanceI am horrible at balance. I get all wrapped up in my passion d' jour. Sometimes it's painting. Sometimes it's knitting. Sometimes it's photography. Last week I got Photoshop Elements and I am having such fun. Here's a photo of my girl Gladys that originally included her mom and a leash:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixm42jJDvgpeOK8F1tZIXgnorGKehNuN_Vq-jYWctyhQYbYbkfWpq0Tz9uDcEP5In_f0Z9n99l68roVnSHssOd5ZvFZdMyvIqh3mmrF5akPzT7LfMmpROrCdTbbGNGgRtmncOq5C4MlnUO/s1600/Gladys+Walk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixm42jJDvgpeOK8F1tZIXgnorGKehNuN_Vq-jYWctyhQYbYbkfWpq0Tz9uDcEP5In_f0Z9n99l68roVnSHssOd5ZvFZdMyvIqh3mmrF5akPzT7LfMmpROrCdTbbGNGgRtmncOq5C4MlnUO/s320/Gladys+Walk.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Speaking of Gladys, I will be babysitting her next week. I can't wait because I so miss having a dog.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0yaOkBdi-XtZa0As8fwLs02tx8OwimmwqlOcLT4EtukoI7u0itPSJXgBP-O8vOV3DABRFx6H3ihHmubeyPuDsm9XX2z801wIB9VfNJY2M0NrXcN3qqwMgyubAhO9t_4WbeL2kX0UZpap/s1600/IMG_3521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0yaOkBdi-XtZa0As8fwLs02tx8OwimmwqlOcLT4EtukoI7u0itPSJXgBP-O8vOV3DABRFx6H3ihHmubeyPuDsm9XX2z801wIB9VfNJY2M0NrXcN3qqwMgyubAhO9t_4WbeL2kX0UZpap/s320/IMG_3521.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Back to my balance issue- sometimes it seems that life has so many moving parts. I want to exercise, eat healthy, do yoga, write in my journal, keep my house nice. And the list goes on. And I seem to be able to do one thing at a time to the exclusion of all others. But isn't life always a balancing act? Isn't that just part of the human condition? I'm not sure what the answer is. When I figure it out I'll post the secret before I forget it! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And finally- last weekend in the mountains by the Appalachian Trail:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6zWEJP23mUnCkXD031GlrxvMLUbYW0FtGRkS7RsCUQYCjiI9cCIQ_ddmpAdQI6CBoGO-qAhwi024aAX7h5HuQ-h4zDtLXlryDeqSQARm5a9wdofwsRbRVkxfvgbQ4Bm5qTbA0G2uobTJ/s1600/IMG_3532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6zWEJP23mUnCkXD031GlrxvMLUbYW0FtGRkS7RsCUQYCjiI9cCIQ_ddmpAdQI6CBoGO-qAhwi024aAX7h5HuQ-h4zDtLXlryDeqSQARm5a9wdofwsRbRVkxfvgbQ4Bm5qTbA0G2uobTJ/s320/IMG_3532.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7rMvm6xR0NXaV9AZ1yQ_gZb1lI_iAgFNxePtApcTezG6m_fP1aGeXgapkFPsxr-mqiKCvfmcDLGyrCsLfA1J6armyXZ8W0gBG1gv3IgMTyt2ZvWBamN6W8n_tzJTqGFhA2mfz6-ye5JS/s1600/IMG_3533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7rMvm6xR0NXaV9AZ1yQ_gZb1lI_iAgFNxePtApcTezG6m_fP1aGeXgapkFPsxr-mqiKCvfmcDLGyrCsLfA1J6armyXZ8W0gBG1gv3IgMTyt2ZvWBamN6W8n_tzJTqGFhA2mfz6-ye5JS/s320/IMG_3533.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Mother Nature has this whole balance thing figured out. All of her parts are in perfect alignment. Mother N knows the secret of balance, but she's not talkin'. </div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-9460199013823948062011-06-04T19:59:00.001-04:002011-06-04T20:01:33.921-04:00Mixed Up MediaI can jump from hobby to hobby like other people change their socks. I love my hobbies. They keep me sane, keep me calm (most of the time) and keep me feeling alive and joyful.<br />
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I love playing with watercolor pencils. I love photographs and most of all I love art supplies. I've done art journal pages in the past, and I have enjoyed it. I jumped into the deep end of the mixed media pool this week and started doing some pieces on canvas.<br />
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So much fun. I get to play with all of my art toys. Paint, chalk, tissue, printed images, stamping, ink, were flying. I even got to use a little of my knitted lace on the first collage.<br />
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Here's the first -<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">"When Storm Clouds Gather Look For An Angel"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Wine And Fruit</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMoSHiNaQW68He-zU0v5MaG-DMzw4nYvBH8VRIo3Sn8BBL13_b7_G0gorXOSOm1tfFHy4Qd_yUgT8E5CGl8owPaELX9Kl1AeaA4DWHFCOXPpqOQ_hSxQaO5VHczBDzVgb39Mj7T_uGY9k/s1600/IMG_3509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMoSHiNaQW68He-zU0v5MaG-DMzw4nYvBH8VRIo3Sn8BBL13_b7_G0gorXOSOm1tfFHy4Qd_yUgT8E5CGl8owPaELX9Kl1AeaA4DWHFCOXPpqOQ_hSxQaO5VHczBDzVgb39Mj7T_uGY9k/s320/IMG_3509.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrgQK-hgonE2D1svh_FmJDrzdv1BIThJUcIUTg3l8L3DbjVnwcVGFgN79Li7iV7voqB7YcERUM822jNMYUZOhvwrSe1SfppBEu101j-a69-SD4_yl1eQ6xh8miYhyvXnBVTQ6wJWcdu_3/s1600/IMG_3508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrgQK-hgonE2D1svh_FmJDrzdv1BIThJUcIUTg3l8L3DbjVnwcVGFgN79Li7iV7voqB7YcERUM822jNMYUZOhvwrSe1SfppBEu101j-a69-SD4_yl1eQ6xh8miYhyvXnBVTQ6wJWcdu_3/s320/IMG_3508.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">This distraction came at the perfect time. A friend who I've worked with for 15 years was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Her life has been filled with tragedy starting with the death of her daughter in law followed by the death of her son a few years later. 2 months ago a 2nd son died. Devastated, she took solace in her 9 year old granddaughter whom she'd been raising since infancy. Less than 2 weeks ago she went to the hospital because she was having some breathing problems. They discovered the lung cancer that had metastasized to her liver and bones. She wanted to fight with any means possible, but sadly, that was not to be. Within days of diagnosis her condition deteriorated. She passed away on Monday. She was sick for less than 2 weeks. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I cannot believe how life can change on a dime. It freaks me out to think one's life can be thrust into total upheaval in the span of a few days. Bobbi was one of the most vivacious, loving people I've ever known. We had great talks. It all happened so fast. It's hard to envision a world without her bubbly ways and spontaneous hugs. I will miss her. Rest In Peace, friend. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-70008970785266807452011-05-21T22:21:00.002-04:002011-05-21T22:32:16.726-04:00Three Busy WeeksI shouldn't even bother to unpack in May. I just finished two road trips to Virginia, and I'm Virginia bound again next week for a business trip.<br />
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Road trip #1 was four wonderful days in the mountains with my friends. It's probably the most relaxing place I know. We went to the farmer's market and a wonderful art fair where I bought a mixed media art piece and a mug that still has my friend Sue rolling her eyes. It was hand painted with a sheep and the colors are great and it was soooo shiny!!!<br />
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I love this mug- it holds my whole pot of French Press coffee in the morning. And did I mention the sheep? White sheep and a black sheep.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My Girl Gladys at the mountains....still very shy, but getting better every time I see her. (Gladys has social anxiety.) This photo is not in great focus, but I love the pose. Is she not the cutest dog? Look at that face. And those ears. Silky ears. And look at those woods outside of the window. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoqnfxBjzLxbL1JcRvuMpUMGHmUiTpMhA6-QhY1dvd71kuqqaJcVZjQWoBRBUIW_xPRTNLB3PhBDqXWLdfczHucsBdmSbiXBO9JbvSM-KeJLzcsLeVC-cY__Wb8UOkilF0UqZJBppAZXuC/s1600/IMG_3091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoqnfxBjzLxbL1JcRvuMpUMGHmUiTpMhA6-QhY1dvd71kuqqaJcVZjQWoBRBUIW_xPRTNLB3PhBDqXWLdfczHucsBdmSbiXBO9JbvSM-KeJLzcsLeVC-cY__Wb8UOkilF0UqZJBppAZXuC/s320/IMG_3091.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next I went back to Virginia for the wedding of the daughter of some friends. It was held at the UVA Chapel and was absolutely breathtaking. I took a lot of photos but found that I had none of people once I got home. But I've got some great shots of the chapel. It's a beautiful Gothic structure, built in the early 1800's. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The reception was held at Keswick Hall, a 5 star resort out in the countryside. A pricy place, but worth every penny if you are up for a little rest and relaxation in the countryside of Virginia.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This photo is taken from their website, because my photos were over exposed and under focused. Thinking you can learn to take photos on manual settings without practicing is not the best idea I've ever had. Look at those grounds. Well, actually it overlooks a golf course. I'm not a golfer, but it was gorgeous. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next day I went to Monticello, the home Thomas Jefferson built in Charlottesville, VA. It was an amazing tour. He was a complex man. He built a complex home and had complex, conflicted views of slavery. He didn't believe a man could or should own another man, but he was afraid to free his slaves. He was as kind to his slaves as slavery could allow. He did not beat them or shackle them. But he owned them, he inventoried them and gifted his daughter with slaves at her marriage. Our tour guide, who was African American, said that it was not PC to speak of slavery either pro or con during his time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> His gardens, his writing, his books, his adapted inventions all show a man way ahead of his time. His private chamber consisted of his bedroom, his study and his library. It was all adjacent to his greenhouse. His love of books, nature, writing and learning was in evidence everywhere I looked. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was a fabulous tour. I'm not much of a site seer, but this was well worth the price of the ticket, the shuttle ride to the top of the mountain and the waking. </div><br />
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</div> Amazing gnarled tree at Monticello.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_zH6_N1rk9m6eK_kuMOwDh1PJoY0JiujQThYqNwY7mYu8apZITHX_h8NeWss-38dSNqKBLmbZAUwa9S65mV6Ra21_UxfejPTCZnJQYfpEx2bhyphenhyphenEU9xyVF_qX9xN2CjtDedDW2h2t4RaA/s1600/IMG_3253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_zH6_N1rk9m6eK_kuMOwDh1PJoY0JiujQThYqNwY7mYu8apZITHX_h8NeWss-38dSNqKBLmbZAUwa9S65mV6Ra21_UxfejPTCZnJQYfpEx2bhyphenhyphenEU9xyVF_qX9xN2CjtDedDW2h2t4RaA/s320/IMG_3253.jpg" width="213" /></a></div> Slave quarters. A family typically lived in a small one room area.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meanwhile, back the the ranch...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The garden grows just fine without me...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's good to be home this weekend, even if I am packing yet again. Today I indulged in a manicure, a very small amount of house work, listening to a book on tape while playing with some hand lettering techniques. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What do you mean you are going away again? We are not amused.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-60771776870605617012011-05-01T23:16:00.000-04:002011-05-01T23:16:26.575-04:00Linens And ThingsI am 99.9% done with a complete redo of my bedroom. I need one more day of weekend! No such luck.<br />
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I love the bedroom. It is restful and serene. I love the ivory with touches of gold here and there. I love being surrounded by lace and linens that Hannie, Mannie and Nora made over 100 years ago. I've always been so fascinated by these ancestors! I know they were very superstitious. A hat was NEVER to be put on a bed. I'm not sure what would happen, but it would be very, very bad! During a thunderstorm they gathered in a closet and said the Litany Of The Saints. In Latin. They must not have invented martinis yet! Ora pro nobis. And I am sure there were a few Mea Culpas thrown in for good measure.<br />
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Some of their lacework mounted on a surface over my bed. It still needs a frame- so this is a bit temporary and unfinished looking. The color on my walls photographed funny. It is actually a very rich neutral called Parchment. Not butter yellow as it looks here.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tea cloth wrapped into a bolster pillow.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My grandmother's Christening gown, made by H,M&N.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTRK1Ur30dSnShqdkmOx3Tedh7DgZnU2IHAZIDNVxWrAyvoX8GYrAwxunBlMK5lRkt-UkMEAI1MC4Xz9x9LolFi8WJvIpj4piAmF_Monrb0eTyr7RLbpRWm3URMtvbBm8QsRZ-nK1i_9F/s1600/IMG_2985_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTRK1Ur30dSnShqdkmOx3Tedh7DgZnU2IHAZIDNVxWrAyvoX8GYrAwxunBlMK5lRkt-UkMEAI1MC4Xz9x9LolFi8WJvIpj4piAmF_Monrb0eTyr7RLbpRWm3URMtvbBm8QsRZ-nK1i_9F/s320/IMG_2985_2.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">New linen curtains with nice pin tuck detail. The mirror over the vanity needs hanging. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-AJmPwDOFEQ5xKmZRLdNZrvaLdPezzWN5MbkyU3VFzp5wCI7DNy1G0oW1o9y6C2sAkEAfyNBmqVonLa-HPp6sWSJ4fRO420QdTAdkGKujBTI1ZaDwbckXRmzhla38sNJOyjq-u3HGZNZz/s1600/IMG_3033_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-AJmPwDOFEQ5xKmZRLdNZrvaLdPezzWN5MbkyU3VFzp5wCI7DNy1G0oW1o9y6C2sAkEAfyNBmqVonLa-HPp6sWSJ4fRO420QdTAdkGKujBTI1ZaDwbckXRmzhla38sNJOyjq-u3HGZNZz/s320/IMG_3033_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Perfume bottles that belonged to Hannie, Mannie and Nora, plus a little cut glass vase with a sprig of lily of the valley from my garden.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayjDrP5J99oTVyt5Be6KivAbkebIC3CB4hsmdb9OpqD3q2XuNfY_-lhHxmA4HmkbxLYAh4Uqn_nYx0yG_mFEuwndj84RL1vu9YU4r-w0QlaGxn0AY1h3DUOgeEx5GO2gA4tMobVyKf7tM/s1600/IMG_2998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayjDrP5J99oTVyt5Be6KivAbkebIC3CB4hsmdb9OpqD3q2XuNfY_-lhHxmA4HmkbxLYAh4Uqn_nYx0yG_mFEuwndj84RL1vu9YU4r-w0QlaGxn0AY1h3DUOgeEx5GO2gA4tMobVyKf7tM/s320/IMG_2998.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I got a lot of garden work done this weekend too.....but first a look at my little lily of the valley spring in several surroundings.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcQEmoHIplFQyPtbYgaEIvl6aKIKB9leCTufYzy_xAbvWhla5jRebIRn1FZN2lVpXkrOFjT7Sr3wSXjVDp-1TEuBVGtdTDmLaZjAjQ7x1-xk0bzYfr72uRlJB-dVqNaX2KK3nP1Kf28sJd/s1600/IMG_3029_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcQEmoHIplFQyPtbYgaEIvl6aKIKB9leCTufYzy_xAbvWhla5jRebIRn1FZN2lVpXkrOFjT7Sr3wSXjVDp-1TEuBVGtdTDmLaZjAjQ7x1-xk0bzYfr72uRlJB-dVqNaX2KK3nP1Kf28sJd/s320/IMG_3029_2.JPG" width="274" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love container gardening...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDEivX5vMqDisXlBwmL9c64xOsEVDKlYdjLEGXm9ZTUq5xSzBKZeRFcbNuWhHmz7M4m08rmKSyngSs_0TqNos3p9gi7-kSslCRH5GqXqIGs0Tc4shHmLajcIpsz3uZFxIBIwpkABzKH2a/s1600/IMG_2953_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDEivX5vMqDisXlBwmL9c64xOsEVDKlYdjLEGXm9ZTUq5xSzBKZeRFcbNuWhHmz7M4m08rmKSyngSs_0TqNos3p9gi7-kSslCRH5GqXqIGs0Tc4shHmLajcIpsz3uZFxIBIwpkABzKH2a/s320/IMG_2953_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Part of my shade garden area along with my dirty drought ridden bird bath. Yes, sadly, all the birds in my neighborhood are in dire need of a bath. It is my fault that they are dirty. Mea culpa. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8utLVJCrBluY3KSFAVcHTTZP8Fw1Xeja0kIw8UzrGD3Ty1JQ2S-2l0yvdj3gFrF8gbpg7yCM06lzukGxxRB4UTUy4CfCBadeNqcHzHPZTNG6sOeDXzZrsJYEVyFV_7yrVHrbCLUF5xv9/s1600/IMG_2962_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8utLVJCrBluY3KSFAVcHTTZP8Fw1Xeja0kIw8UzrGD3Ty1JQ2S-2l0yvdj3gFrF8gbpg7yCM06lzukGxxRB4UTUy4CfCBadeNqcHzHPZTNG6sOeDXzZrsJYEVyFV_7yrVHrbCLUF5xv9/s320/IMG_2962_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">New hummingbird feeder. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dpFxHhJEt_qU0o-E3NdYupuKyMVBn8iM9ENOZNpCjSeFFzAhJAc9VLqzJaS0CyHvf55Q7L9iGGXTh2vq8mYWXQfwkC_L0FlCLh99RYezI4pbZ-g5ewW_dMq5BgGhHnhgEu5EjiI0g2-P/s1600/IMG_2965_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dpFxHhJEt_qU0o-E3NdYupuKyMVBn8iM9ENOZNpCjSeFFzAhJAc9VLqzJaS0CyHvf55Q7L9iGGXTh2vq8mYWXQfwkC_L0FlCLh99RYezI4pbZ-g5ewW_dMq5BgGhHnhgEu5EjiI0g2-P/s320/IMG_2965_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Part of patio area with new flowers. I still need to finish my cushions and a few other things in order to call the patio done. I need TWO more weekend days. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil71rdQF6UH9GIQp0gUYlwUlbG1i68bgJbsh9CDyYInto5Bw7bGAXz8W7qsE16GVcX5YYT0ad0KApu8DMeMEkdmGcKNknGymFhJFUWz8l0cDUIxEW-DxRnmdekGZ_aV4UBlNQ-XMGMkMCW/s1600/IMG_2959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil71rdQF6UH9GIQp0gUYlwUlbG1i68bgJbsh9CDyYInto5Bw7bGAXz8W7qsE16GVcX5YYT0ad0KApu8DMeMEkdmGcKNknGymFhJFUWz8l0cDUIxEW-DxRnmdekGZ_aV4UBlNQ-XMGMkMCW/s320/IMG_2959.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And finally my one decorating dilemma in my bedroom. My treadmill sits in the corner. It is not pretty. It does fold up so doesn't take up a whole lot of space. I'm wondering if a small room screen would be better. I don't know. I think I just have to learn to live with it. I listened to a workshop about exercise this week that had some amazing statistics about how exercise affects the brain, wards off Alzheimers, Parkinisons, is good for ADD and thighs all at the same time. So maybe this little corner of the room isn't so ugly after all. The tablecloth hanging off the end of the treadmill is NOT doing a good job of hiding it. I need to come to terms with the fact that I cannot hide it. I am going to bed now and ponder the question of how to make this corner attractive. I'll be back with a full report. </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/AVvXsEi94hYwVWbQeM-RUhGRReESiysu6M_YOf4nhbyPQM3qbuPt7TRiq2u2VxT9Hdu2kVm9RG8P6d8POZcNFbCuY1rzUvafXs86YV5FmIr5Ylrptidhh6TnfJQUgavnO-XDpAR9t18n5fuMEAAi/s1600/IMG_3034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94hYwVWbQeM-RUhGRReESiysu6M_YOf4nhbyPQM3qbuPt7TRiq2u2VxT9Hdu2kVm9RG8P6d8POZcNFbCuY1rzUvafXs86YV5FmIr5Ylrptidhh6TnfJQUgavnO-XDpAR9t18n5fuMEAAi/s320/IMG_3034.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-14086460167617220562011-04-24T20:22:00.001-04:002011-04-24T20:28:14.655-04:00Seizing The Nano SecondI've heard of seizing the day, seizing the moment. I've got it down to seizing nano seconds. This stint of steroids for the asthma has left me a bit frenzied. I cannot settle down. My brain is going about 1,000 miles an hour. Result? Projects started and some even finished!<br />
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Sock #1 almost done.<br />
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Antique linens that Hannie, Mannie and Nora made in the 1800's are currently being restored. (I love Google; you can learn anything.) Tatting, embroidery and crocheted lace are soaking at my house. Next comes the ironing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWD4kXTarN98Ieog3xo_YO4-m4GIMhO0lBhLhdN2GCQtHqe6-cxZDb16ItHGcNDAcxOHHTJ6Ep-MtHG7lU_14eSKq1AvJqdBxrgsH3IpzsM2kdxjHIuKhYyRJ4Fk3goScai5vLMeuFoeC/s1600/IMG_2707.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWD4kXTarN98Ieog3xo_YO4-m4GIMhO0lBhLhdN2GCQtHqe6-cxZDb16ItHGcNDAcxOHHTJ6Ep-MtHG7lU_14eSKq1AvJqdBxrgsH3IpzsM2kdxjHIuKhYyRJ4Fk3goScai5vLMeuFoeC/s320/IMG_2707.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-C8nvCVR9lqlfZZbSic3Cc5iWDjmmXczB4rf-kLXvPGWbX1AFgbkhK_0G2pT36xGLrimXuMLltiItinH927n0LciViJMHlubF2pGwrGLWJiplGmIKk63nn1KUuX2NYzfwnoowY43dm5o/s1600/IMG_2710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-C8nvCVR9lqlfZZbSic3Cc5iWDjmmXczB4rf-kLXvPGWbX1AFgbkhK_0G2pT36xGLrimXuMLltiItinH927n0LciViJMHlubF2pGwrGLWJiplGmIKk63nn1KUuX2NYzfwnoowY43dm5o/s320/IMG_2710.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvA_533QKZpOFAhfA8ywObuagzll7tMt__zQWQGzfBDwcB7yiJ-F8VevH4OwWWh5Wg2vG2zeeVXdcXRLmYQLJtqgGr7Nvk6iKJxe6i0C0VLlRzglVXoKOT1RWMxB9u3aiwzSgQOhEpAYAd/s1600/IMG_2724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvA_533QKZpOFAhfA8ywObuagzll7tMt__zQWQGzfBDwcB7yiJ-F8VevH4OwWWh5Wg2vG2zeeVXdcXRLmYQLJtqgGr7Nvk6iKJxe6i0C0VLlRzglVXoKOT1RWMxB9u3aiwzSgQOhEpAYAd/s320/IMG_2724.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm learning to make beads from polymer clay. This stuff is ADDICTIVE. There's something very satisfying and tactile about handling it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwN4HVcGhdjyTMuQYBAZbvGxH4cWNFBKdi-QUuI8nwEz441E87JH5RUty5nnGFnL-KU6L8JTx5VUMj8Rx6flPZ6AWHBGgJ4iZgBFZKE-DCAh18q932HFeBoNM6WQNjZNdtER-ty8ephilC/s1600/IMG_2639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwN4HVcGhdjyTMuQYBAZbvGxH4cWNFBKdi-QUuI8nwEz441E87JH5RUty5nnGFnL-KU6L8JTx5VUMj8Rx6flPZ6AWHBGgJ4iZgBFZKE-DCAh18q932HFeBoNM6WQNjZNdtER-ty8ephilC/s320/IMG_2639.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div>And I am totally loving my online photography class. I've taken the camera off auto. (Yikes.) And as hard as this is to believe, I've having problems with <i>focus</i>. Focus is never my strong suit- unless it is 2:00 AM and I am so wrapped up in some project I forget to go to bed.<br />
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Working on the photo part of focus with seed beads.....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrydb84G8ninJIZwykP0vdQjRx9BAPSUEhy2xPjI8hhU0Wqkr7cscpzs3I6BNwDmJsy6SwGvJ9RcDElnjFhZj4gy9dBzoYH_T0s5dON1XKgpTm6CKAEqCFYhuNlD66OJCeCTtIzMI3q7pn/s1600/IMG_2763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrydb84G8ninJIZwykP0vdQjRx9BAPSUEhy2xPjI8hhU0Wqkr7cscpzs3I6BNwDmJsy6SwGvJ9RcDElnjFhZj4gy9dBzoYH_T0s5dON1XKgpTm6CKAEqCFYhuNlD66OJCeCTtIzMI3q7pn/s320/IMG_2763.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Any my favorite subject, Miss Juli. Juli has a problem with drooling when she purrs. The happier she is, the more she drools. I caught the teeniest bit of drooling here. She denies it vehemently. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEB80mp6-YbRflQ6qQvoaTp8F8B50B_SmE1rnjFBzYre06-t3hScXjMCCPyN3JeQ_n23cyPuYhCHVTatw6vUi89DPs0eQbX9_2sknD2a_G9Mh5mTJC_niRtSOSkAgVaQwq9R9k9hW-mv0j/s1600/IMG_2692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEB80mp6-YbRflQ6qQvoaTp8F8B50B_SmE1rnjFBzYre06-t3hScXjMCCPyN3JeQ_n23cyPuYhCHVTatw6vUi89DPs0eQbX9_2sknD2a_G9Mh5mTJC_niRtSOSkAgVaQwq9R9k9hW-mv0j/s320/IMG_2692.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was supposed to go to the mountains for Easter. I'm still not feeing 100%, so I stayed home for a <s>quiet</s> jam packed day of reading and crafting. There just aren't enough nano seconds in the day! And I want to seize them all, enjoy them all. Stay tuned for the reveal on the antique linen. No, I am not taking to flinging doilies around the room. That's all the hint you get!!! :) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-53931871330401409892011-04-18T22:58:00.000-04:002011-04-18T22:58:01.336-04:00Half Time At The Asthma BowlYup. Game asthma is on again. I think I'm probably about at half time. I can feel that it is ready to break. I'm ready for the 7th inning stretch. Yes, I know I am mixing my sports metaphors. Massive amounts of steroids make you do that. It can't be helped.<br />
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So, I worked at home today and sadly didn't get much done. Mostly I slept, which is a very good thing. I figure tomorrow is another day and I'll play total catch up all day.<br />
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I'm so excited that my new "picture" from Target has found its home in my home.<br />
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Over the kitchen sink. I love this piece. It's funky, so it deserves a funky place to live. I don't have a window over my sink, so these colors make it sing to me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL91ZoQsa4ZFMcaq1PVAyRbIvwjLm9OfSPdYWu1zyQFgS0a0TZKVB1StVRL7DDxtTdR0Ujbes1P6ssdLDwGHIsXuO3XAnArMBxvNbR1dfLujxdZUGoS7jX8uRmrwyk6IsAxE9KXHfNgwOr/s1600/IMG_2435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL91ZoQsa4ZFMcaq1PVAyRbIvwjLm9OfSPdYWu1zyQFgS0a0TZKVB1StVRL7DDxtTdR0Ujbes1P6ssdLDwGHIsXuO3XAnArMBxvNbR1dfLujxdZUGoS7jX8uRmrwyk6IsAxE9KXHfNgwOr/s320/IMG_2435.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The steroids give you an exaggerated concept of what you can accomplish in one day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I need to read and work in my art journal and my regular journal. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Journal-Spilling-Mixed-Media-Techniques-Expression/dp/B004KAB39S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1303181147&sr=8-1">Journal Spillin</a>g is a great book for anybody who like journaling or art journals. Very inspiring and rich with ideas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3G-J3AUuqXNTj54wLENijbpSse0uId9aAfLzf7V88xPtnh7XQJhE3eQaZV6GONVwKwNewQlxDUl7ln7ASzkeU6MhERDb0G6VgwcDNJJpjVCBImH56heFfCfnDMft_TcJDbq2Edc7CgiqW/s1600/IMG_2360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3G-J3AUuqXNTj54wLENijbpSse0uId9aAfLzf7V88xPtnh7XQJhE3eQaZV6GONVwKwNewQlxDUl7ln7ASzkeU6MhERDb0G6VgwcDNJJpjVCBImH56heFfCfnDMft_TcJDbq2Edc7CgiqW/s320/IMG_2360.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/AVvXsEg4ZbJbuUhuLajnUn2rYd4ynOQ1Og3h9eIamd9YLYf0IXLUWu01Gk6-M_WkMH5hKP9LNw_aVEoJlXQhNBmuHVwLPZYE93RVmxlblKlZ_DpzVXw9YTQnRnRYr3Us5QOjU_QU-0M1tHJe0Ah4/s1600/DSCN1418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZbJbuUhuLajnUn2rYd4ynOQ1Og3h9eIamd9YLYf0IXLUWu01Gk6-M_WkMH5hKP9LNw_aVEoJlXQhNBmuHVwLPZYE93RVmxlblKlZ_DpzVXw9YTQnRnRYr3Us5QOjU_QU-0M1tHJe0Ah4/s320/DSCN1418.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I need to finish my patio once I can go outside without sounding like Darth Vader. My "Shy Garden Angel" needs some planty type company. I love her- she's getting weather worn and it looks good on her. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1LrW-V454KcHmape-LDd17aZiFRjOLazswjqqZJzeCBFVQphaKIceNcwi38aGeJuoOoj9vR-m6okad9Rn7qTsH6GNl1eaU3FeFjCtLCZGyzc7CbmhKHUUlWhosHX2626PNiK4otCLHG8/s1600/IMG_2338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1LrW-V454KcHmape-LDd17aZiFRjOLazswjqqZJzeCBFVQphaKIceNcwi38aGeJuoOoj9vR-m6okad9Rn7qTsH6GNl1eaU3FeFjCtLCZGyzc7CbmhKHUUlWhosHX2626PNiK4otCLHG8/s320/IMG_2338.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I need to paint and draw and color Easter Eggs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But I'll probably just settle for a shower.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ZRzcBnR-uh5nqYhnHliBbhRYMKP5kLzcW0molcJWohT75OCpzQJFaPkSvDsSXR9A8VhaJmBhjR-kdT1KEo3hUEzpFSHlFj0KEsNBhdJ_uNo-h5AxOvNwk74RsTzLXkxhku1VtqQhsyT8/s1600/IMG_2385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ZRzcBnR-uh5nqYhnHliBbhRYMKP5kLzcW0molcJWohT75OCpzQJFaPkSvDsSXR9A8VhaJmBhjR-kdT1KEo3hUEzpFSHlFj0KEsNBhdJ_uNo-h5AxOvNwk74RsTzLXkxhku1VtqQhsyT8/s320/IMG_2385.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/AVvXsEjQwp7QMqXuw9M1EwD6Y5_h7E4fgyKIJFz_Yqp11imK5N8RZO8OBESa-v_Jrozw5H6wqWwivxTrC7T-vX4mYK7cdsC_g8V_3ZJMRy8x1ysbjHGnZZNcwpzm26dfN40aznVw5fm4NZhOJoce/s1600/IMG_2450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwp7QMqXuw9M1EwD6Y5_h7E4fgyKIJFz_Yqp11imK5N8RZO8OBESa-v_Jrozw5H6wqWwivxTrC7T-vX4mYK7cdsC_g8V_3ZJMRy8x1ysbjHGnZZNcwpzm26dfN40aznVw5fm4NZhOJoce/s320/IMG_2450.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the only Easter Egg I will be coloring...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-86571771930730029562011-04-13T20:52:00.001-04:002011-04-13T21:13:10.056-04:00More Slices Of LifeI am loving my online photo class. It makes me fell like maybe I could start to tackle some of the technical side of photography. We'll see about that- it always makes me dizzy.<br />
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This week we are photographing daily routines.<br />
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First- French Press Coffee......<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WKrvqk6H-B3lw11QzgjDOT3iUJ0espufjuMniULe8C2SIzj8qp24RIl8opKViHqIltLinrvIDEblfPV3D4arcssA_8AWvtPNbPR8zQZs0pIy8wpcQC8sLNJS7Qgugad677zEjG1huszw/s1600/DSCN1341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WKrvqk6H-B3lw11QzgjDOT3iUJ0espufjuMniULe8C2SIzj8qp24RIl8opKViHqIltLinrvIDEblfPV3D4arcssA_8AWvtPNbPR8zQZs0pIy8wpcQC8sLNJS7Qgugad677zEjG1huszw/s320/DSCN1341.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUug5FOt1NCk054x9jtQqC1F7FvYbwGbzpxpf3l_K_ayzUdeiWRBF_rTHGg6VTg5DbKkoKb4kt0Rf7SC9ZCJoJeDCaEBpXXsrP99in1OqU6Lx_znE9suZV0idPEokrvVh1aj5zOpYWk7D/s1600/DSCN1343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUug5FOt1NCk054x9jtQqC1F7FvYbwGbzpxpf3l_K_ayzUdeiWRBF_rTHGg6VTg5DbKkoKb4kt0Rf7SC9ZCJoJeDCaEBpXXsrP99in1OqU6Lx_znE9suZV0idPEokrvVh1aj5zOpYWk7D/s320/DSCN1343.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am awakened by Juli HURLING herself through the air to jump on me because clearly she is STARVING. I caught her mid leap this morning. I'm not sure where her ears are. She must hold them back to make herself more aero dynamic. </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/AVvXsEipMJ4fO_nJFglPLgEtRWsqWTIa3tJT1HZEfnx0TEJkDUqNYN5sMAjNeXSt_eTr9vbCGLRzs5AuBDz1XJWBNJT-rQHGNIXzUmNKVd1U8NTc0xy5SpgsgDWEtpKg_HjINLBR_VbXRWVVowf8/s1600/DSCN1361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMJ4fO_nJFglPLgEtRWsqWTIa3tJT1HZEfnx0TEJkDUqNYN5sMAjNeXSt_eTr9vbCGLRzs5AuBDz1XJWBNJT-rQHGNIXzUmNKVd1U8NTc0xy5SpgsgDWEtpKg_HjINLBR_VbXRWVVowf8/s320/DSCN1361.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Plan my day. I love to write in my planner with a fountain pen. I wish that everything I wrote in the planner actually got done! </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/AVvXsEi-X71F5KZ2_6c_t6ef5rg9_GwvzE0HLJ5NGTSlpLfFlvS1cAFWttL-uXOR0fARys1BVYe7Cb7fgt-IUF9_YSXp-4u_6MfFiaQMpdlkhnCJvr48ljPa4Z0YF7hM4Dc9o2iAPv76vb4BX6MP/s1600/DSCN1372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X71F5KZ2_6c_t6ef5rg9_GwvzE0HLJ5NGTSlpLfFlvS1cAFWttL-uXOR0fARys1BVYe7Cb7fgt-IUF9_YSXp-4u_6MfFiaQMpdlkhnCJvr48ljPa4Z0YF7hM4Dc9o2iAPv76vb4BX6MP/s320/DSCN1372.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My day is not complete without a bit of knitting. These are socks...or will be. Doesn't everybody make wool socks just in time for summer? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwoFCKtD3k4StSwUlGTuDL7tIYAKTfCKMjfyP2vsuhWDUYNHUuo0BjuWPcEhWCyVIo9FOv0NnQ6z_zikEKYtXQ3yMUFk3rImczVYITZT96evZd5wtBYxY-Aa-cz9ReIizsgVPUFGW7ET29/s1600/DSCN1355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwoFCKtD3k4StSwUlGTuDL7tIYAKTfCKMjfyP2vsuhWDUYNHUuo0BjuWPcEhWCyVIo9FOv0NnQ6z_zikEKYtXQ3yMUFk3rImczVYITZT96evZd5wtBYxY-Aa-cz9ReIizsgVPUFGW7ET29/s320/DSCN1355.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Nightly tummy rubs and chin scratches for her royal highness. Look at that cute calico paw with speckles of color. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Nightly cup of tea with lemon and honey. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Face washing before bed. I love my basket of white wash cloths. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFW2qbJAesn1gTvdn5HWPyR-Sb2PLglp8K0Ef7aXWRmNXNs2HH4M3ZGAo4stWbUWR2dDrOX5vodQbTXHZuk758xyCXbZONi7AvwGDJaaST8MjHHcZt7GlFSf2aSv8qqccgxXduuaD64vTG/s1600/IMG_2377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFW2qbJAesn1gTvdn5HWPyR-Sb2PLglp8K0Ef7aXWRmNXNs2HH4M3ZGAo4stWbUWR2dDrOX5vodQbTXHZuk758xyCXbZONi7AvwGDJaaST8MjHHcZt7GlFSf2aSv8qqccgxXduuaD64vTG/s320/IMG_2377.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And once again I am fighting with my asthma. I went to the doctor right away this time, so hopefully it won't turn into anything bad. I'm back on prednisone and expect to be so wired that I'll be knitting wall to wall carpeting for the house. Prednisone does that. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">30 years ago today we lost my mom. 15 years ago today we lost our Sadie dog. April 13 is not my favorite day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-17243904024263691382011-04-05T20:54:00.000-04:002011-04-05T20:54:55.109-04:00Slicing LifeI've signed up for an online photography class called <a href="http://www.darrahparker.com/blog/">A Slice Of Life</a>. It started yesterday, and I think I'm going to really enjoy it. I don't know a thing about settings, aperture, white balance. It all makes me a little crazy. I don't know anything about composition, lighting or other things that "real" photographers rattle off like they were talking about the weather. Thankfully, that is not what this class is about. I think it's more like a creative kick in the butt to get moving, take photos and find beauty in the ordinary.<br />
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I went through my day with a different eye today. I focused more on small, beautiful (to me) details. It felt really good. It made me realize that I pass by beauty every day without even noticing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Q_orbHuPqKAurV3IWx5bwIjGO_8o5wbp_RksWeWLNZu5GyJlFghgq_KtmzGYh5-WVFeqF_qOTHS71aeKcKX76aiAcxYsAu3YBYN8kgLg1aYDh8xogpIJCDyCEtB9OVxDfO7SrgRwEupw/s1600/IMG_2296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Q_orbHuPqKAurV3IWx5bwIjGO_8o5wbp_RksWeWLNZu5GyJlFghgq_KtmzGYh5-WVFeqF_qOTHS71aeKcKX76aiAcxYsAu3YBYN8kgLg1aYDh8xogpIJCDyCEtB9OVxDfO7SrgRwEupw/s400/IMG_2296.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: auto;"><br />
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This is a scrap piece of watercolor paper that I was testing paint colors on while I struggled with another painting. All of a sudden I looked at the scrap paper and saw butterflies! I got out my pen and the scrap became the painting.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1hJ9R6gm9AuO6c6cLnoGQFXC-pq7vFFK-2xO_lLkyt4mr4YG36TgU0WVB6AojCNXtiYteo6QiCY63obVfkfuRW0lE7kBXzlQT8Oeh72cIhPln5tjJr_R7oo1p3MvbSDuKT8fPOkTSA87j/s1600/IMG_2297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1hJ9R6gm9AuO6c6cLnoGQFXC-pq7vFFK-2xO_lLkyt4mr4YG36TgU0WVB6AojCNXtiYteo6QiCY63obVfkfuRW0lE7kBXzlQT8Oeh72cIhPln5tjJr_R7oo1p3MvbSDuKT8fPOkTSA87j/s400/IMG_2297.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My journal and my fountain pen on the patio in the morning. I love writing with fountain pens. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>My morning carrot juice. Yum! Look at those cool little bubbles.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My neighbor brought a bottle of wine over to celebrate the first real warm day on Friday. The wine was nice, but the label- it was so pretty! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>More proof that spring is here...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And finally, once again my hostas are fighting their way through the earth. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVp6UDdsT29rATr3vREzVTruWcxFV77uN5lCsydtwz1CVc_djm2qOAVLVfHAk8Ifadh_D3ffQJGQo-OWP8GlEXEXlQD0o1hmhMP-IrJ1lI39uB1ZUydBtSX3gOZ2VlBQ9EInsvfAUnojxu/s1600/IMG_2331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVp6UDdsT29rATr3vREzVTruWcxFV77uN5lCsydtwz1CVc_djm2qOAVLVfHAk8Ifadh_D3ffQJGQo-OWP8GlEXEXlQD0o1hmhMP-IrJ1lI39uB1ZUydBtSX3gOZ2VlBQ9EInsvfAUnojxu/s400/IMG_2331.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-40480832257815579192011-03-25T23:43:00.001-04:002011-03-27T14:52:47.417-04:00Dishpan HandsI absolutely HATE HATE HATE unloading the dishwasher. I'd rather do my taxes while on the treadmill after a 3 day cleansing fast.<br />
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But it's kind of a necessary evil, isn't it? Or is it. I've discovered, much to my very great surprise, that I enjoy doing the dishes at night by hand. Who knew that dishwashing could be a peaceful Zen moment kind of activity?<br />
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But, there are some rules. First, I must use some <a href="http://www.caldrea.com/ProductDetail.aspx?ProductName=Lavender%20Pine%20Dish%20Soap%20Liquid&CategoryName=Kitchen">yummy dish soap</a>. Yes, the price is ridiculous, but it is very concentrated. Truth be told, I don't <i>have</i> this $50 per gallon dish soap. I just <i>want</i> it. I'm using the lower octane Mrs. Meyer's Lavender scented dishsoap. Next dish gloves. Not just any dish gloves. Look at these cute gloves from the blog <a href="http://littlebirdiesecrets.blogspot.com/2008/11/not-your-mamas-rubber-gloves.html">Little Birdie's Secrets</a>. Check out their blog. So many cute things!<br />
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</div><div>And lastly, drying the dishes with good quality cotton dishtowels. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>Result- clean dishes, clean kitchen and some quality quiet time. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKpedqFNDocZDm4ZIx9oAvGQIQeNKpuxEDtAlTUOccTdGCRhtCFx0f5AqQBlS2509p1Hla91JrE4lyXYRcioOj5hS_iKF7Gh1Kbt_fUGg_3Y1A_-STi_XZABk5fk2XevV6SCHqBcKg5nn/s1600/IMG_0310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKpedqFNDocZDm4ZIx9oAvGQIQeNKpuxEDtAlTUOccTdGCRhtCFx0f5AqQBlS2509p1Hla91JrE4lyXYRcioOj5hS_iKF7Gh1Kbt_fUGg_3Y1A_-STi_XZABk5fk2XevV6SCHqBcKg5nn/s320/IMG_0310.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-18069093709036051242011-03-19T23:59:00.001-04:002011-03-20T17:14:32.913-04:00How Many Topics Can I Fit Into One Blog Post?I have a touch of ADD, so you will have to forgive me while I flit around completely unrelated topics.<br />
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My de-cluttering and purging of STUFF continues. I have a tall laundry hamper in my kitchen where I deposit items for donation. It's a bit ironic that my de-cluttering efforts have caused a big ole piece of clutter in the kitchen; but it's temporary so I am ignoring it.<br />
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I spent last weekend with some friends at their mountain getaway in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. The beauty and peace of that corner of the world is amazing. Their home is bordered by the Appalachian Trail on one side with woods and a creek that literally bubbles as it flows over the rocks.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGqAO0Aotxh8OgbgpUSoBF4t1GKioeg9iSCGFtmAvvP8_q2hNsemTSdW29_jDHtaaBySIgbZJS3y-H5_mka5Esb3YDzyvVX7zE3a2updrVP5vf87LDGhaGX8X4hd2c4irDTKIHSIwp4Me/s1600/IMG_2220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGqAO0Aotxh8OgbgpUSoBF4t1GKioeg9iSCGFtmAvvP8_q2hNsemTSdW29_jDHtaaBySIgbZJS3y-H5_mka5Esb3YDzyvVX7zE3a2updrVP5vf87LDGhaGX8X4hd2c4irDTKIHSIwp4Me/s320/IMG_2220.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The trees are thick and beautiful all four seasons. Even in winter sunlight streams through the leafless tree branches and creates an incredible show of color and light and movement.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5t7Zs7P16rdTdDycoUZmb6hPlE88g6ak2TkSZ7QIoZUjacyIcxJpLCcGIWgHEX3dnkwv6KregYFE0pJSIYpTRXC5uYD77AahZPbGcjEoeRJfIQPXvb6T4N-wCgabiZAYf-0XeJU6MhF8e/s1600/IMG_2230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5t7Zs7P16rdTdDycoUZmb6hPlE88g6ak2TkSZ7QIoZUjacyIcxJpLCcGIWgHEX3dnkwv6KregYFE0pJSIYpTRXC5uYD77AahZPbGcjEoeRJfIQPXvb6T4N-wCgabiZAYf-0XeJU6MhF8e/s400/IMG_2230.jpg" width="266" /></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/AVvXsEiViVGDIptN3tuuctrmJTfLDjbFcVHFuB1w8SsPI_Ewi3nOXx6DlCBzwzcXItFYEqmaxq80kyZ2J4c2mhWzap7Broy5kkLuhR2FuTNPU5ktYHYs_LBke_Krf9IR7QVqcaxBoIPnTIz3llhB/s1600/IMG_2234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiViVGDIptN3tuuctrmJTfLDjbFcVHFuB1w8SsPI_Ewi3nOXx6DlCBzwzcXItFYEqmaxq80kyZ2J4c2mhWzap7Broy5kkLuhR2FuTNPU5ktYHYs_LBke_Krf9IR7QVqcaxBoIPnTIz3llhB/s400/IMG_2234.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The ice and wind have brought down a lot of branches- huge branches. The locals call the "widow makers".<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKf9j8q481xDDWhzT3UZuWfvD0Jrf9EfdKK1Pcv-ZzoH0MqypvaqJaI_l_rLggzcIHUoeO1uXGDt5T5oxwZMuUsfZG61Wz7EIFhf_g9eI84_y4VKQXlA7d2zv8k_cUAVhfkFterSfmUz_/s1600/IMG_2231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKf9j8q481xDDWhzT3UZuWfvD0Jrf9EfdKK1Pcv-ZzoH0MqypvaqJaI_l_rLggzcIHUoeO1uXGDt5T5oxwZMuUsfZG61Wz7EIFhf_g9eI84_y4VKQXlA7d2zv8k_cUAVhfkFterSfmUz_/s320/IMG_2231.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictIlYvTXWkerJdV7vaqBrWbhKdpqZHXL7BEsmZWvnwJDl9k0LJx3wdFY8HGBbAFR7cfK56jygAwEfhiuj8h4c1hevX0tIuY3DDkwkj9oMRQrDEApwVUakd8QqTeXukbAHPJVoBiPAse4-/s1600/IMG_2233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictIlYvTXWkerJdV7vaqBrWbhKdpqZHXL7BEsmZWvnwJDl9k0LJx3wdFY8HGBbAFR7cfK56jygAwEfhiuj8h4c1hevX0tIuY3DDkwkj9oMRQrDEApwVUakd8QqTeXukbAHPJVoBiPAse4-/s320/IMG_2233.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There was a little proof that spring is coming...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGtAs1S3qMDYcpvlVf7BboH3hktdxCjEDdxdGXoXMnxLtknSO8LgqU2G_pJjDgRvW4cya7EfRciyrbNuYVKI7DgXjVO58TOFA6zzSE28SQ6XaZz2x4jkAqcGTMdcoo8yI4CuWZVYhlQiq/s1600/IMG_2223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGtAs1S3qMDYcpvlVf7BboH3hktdxCjEDdxdGXoXMnxLtknSO8LgqU2G_pJjDgRvW4cya7EfRciyrbNuYVKI7DgXjVO58TOFA6zzSE28SQ6XaZz2x4jkAqcGTMdcoo8yI4CuWZVYhlQiq/s320/IMG_2223.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">It was a great weekend with time for knitting, reading, napping and a painting lesson. We went out for an incredible dinner and slept late. It really doesn't get any better. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">A little knitting took place a few weeks ago. I made a hat for the son of one of my friends. He's 7 and a Steelers fan. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVFXXvj-Ab0AicUZf2FHROELEpsUWjfVIjE0e6Lj34ce9Yru5lxFS9fpxoPynJMFNt_oUNRcGns4PTSIvVpA97_ixdl4rl4cuZWo-QXJYgcWpTsSrgGWzm6DmDbb0RfOUP3Xeu7EmkQPQ/s1600/IMG_2213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVFXXvj-Ab0AicUZf2FHROELEpsUWjfVIjE0e6Lj34ce9Yru5lxFS9fpxoPynJMFNt_oUNRcGns4PTSIvVpA97_ixdl4rl4cuZWo-QXJYgcWpTsSrgGWzm6DmDbb0RfOUP3Xeu7EmkQPQ/s320/IMG_2213.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">The hat was easy. Picking the cat hair out of it was a part time job! On the needles now is a pair of pink leg warmers for another young friend. She's 4 and all girl and must have a pair of hand knit leg warmers for her ballet class this fall. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">We painted at the mountains. My friend Sue is an amazing painter. She uses acrylics like watercolor. I love painting, but I've struggled a lot with it. I think my biggest problem is I don't let the paint dry between layers. What a shock. Me. Impatient! We painted greeting cards. I don't expect Hallmark to recruit me any time soon, but it was fun! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUEUw0r8hSRIJc8FJDHgfaN-bF8L8oMUwu-lbF-1RRXRLgVcfm94yR6kezJj_ah7Q3T56ceR29KIazzi3JfLmToupU57T6MhEeUHbyVjEonTY-P7VLgpFzHXWCfAPzFYLVA4UPq-aJj0J/s1600/IMG_2237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUEUw0r8hSRIJc8FJDHgfaN-bF8L8oMUwu-lbF-1RRXRLgVcfm94yR6kezJj_ah7Q3T56ceR29KIazzi3JfLmToupU57T6MhEeUHbyVjEonTY-P7VLgpFzHXWCfAPzFYLVA4UPq-aJj0J/s320/IMG_2237.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Next topic- meal planning. I am always in awe of people who can plan their week's menu of meals, thereby saving money on groceries and eating a healthy and balanced diet. For some reason, what comes so naturally to some is totally overwhelming to me. I've tried dozens of systems. I've over complicated the whole process every step of the way. I think I've hit on the answer. I found a <a href="http://www.google.com/products/catalog?client=safari&rls=en&q=post+weekly+planner&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&cid=4394497868362974194&sa=X&ei=eXiFTfC8DaGT0QH7_6jjCA&ved=0CDoQ8wIwAg#ps-sellers">planning calendar</a> at Target that fits my thought process. It's a tablet with 52 sheets of a weekly schedule. On the right side there are several pads of sticky notes. The sticky notes fit onto the calendar. Brilliant. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">First, I've decided that I need to simplify my meal plan. Stop with the major recipes slated for every night. After working all day and playing bumper cars on the beltway the last thing I want to do is sear, chop or braise. Much better to plan something simple and quick. I write seven simple breakfasts, lunches and dinners on sticky notes. Then I arrange and re-arrange until it feels right. No more lists that get complicated, convoluted and ultimately, ignored. White stickies are breakfast, yellow are lunch and green are dinner. I haven't done snacks for the week yet. I love this system. Hopefully I'll love it enough to use it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZSFSZpHSKTm2-5vyoATQ-Lq4Bx0OizF_p4kOYsj0Bfg-LyYFUxRFS4bHKsdJwRKGssaX9gprqazODKaMPkTwehSUr-rwxxxAJAeaWQUuDhMdN0AjBl5epWIU4_n4DeUqzPAUlQZrCqCAi/s1600/IMG_2241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZSFSZpHSKTm2-5vyoATQ-Lq4Bx0OizF_p4kOYsj0Bfg-LyYFUxRFS4bHKsdJwRKGssaX9gprqazODKaMPkTwehSUr-rwxxxAJAeaWQUuDhMdN0AjBl5epWIU4_n4DeUqzPAUlQZrCqCAi/s320/IMG_2241.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And finally, Juli in her nightly meditation pose. She got this toy for Christmas. Nightly she cuddles up to it staring at things that aren't there. She is in full Zen mode. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj91A87ov3MKl3jAyWBRqUiHu1rf7EAC1wA1JesMc8vPPgXWGNGrJiSQmY5VonQy1L9Px-kx1s8iiA8t6mElXsFVPuOXtaTxuK6gcRpJLW3_KFEs-C5pHq91UaIgRkG4-egigsnFdpuvaU/s1600/IMG_2235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj91A87ov3MKl3jAyWBRqUiHu1rf7EAC1wA1JesMc8vPPgXWGNGrJiSQmY5VonQy1L9Px-kx1s8iiA8t6mElXsFVPuOXtaTxuK6gcRpJLW3_KFEs-C5pHq91UaIgRkG4-egigsnFdpuvaU/s320/IMG_2235.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-60287395070949128632011-03-06T01:01:00.000-05:002011-03-06T01:01:18.341-05:00The Great Outdoors Part 1I have a sweet little patio outside my condo. Up until now it has been a total under achiever in the charming department. I had it repaved last year, and the charm level definitely went up. But it's still been rather a bleak corner of my home.<br />
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Bleak.<br />
Furniture in need of paint.<br />
But nice new pavers and lovely windchimes = potential.<br />
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So, armed with lots of potential and not a lot of pesos I challenged myself to create a charming, warm and welcoming back yard space with as little money spent as possible. Time for a trip to Target.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHqwCP_l5bZuvB4HxfmFwMYtDL_Z2lsawYpYwxaNNgX1N45dwNV4BJ_gpgsh4gIIoiI5-25JYWeYqXg9BN68seOocHS017ruexHme1n3couLVFchuRslKhInndWUeRaMuwLfRiklqgDAz/s1600/IMG_2190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHqwCP_l5bZuvB4HxfmFwMYtDL_Z2lsawYpYwxaNNgX1N45dwNV4BJ_gpgsh4gIIoiI5-25JYWeYqXg9BN68seOocHS017ruexHme1n3couLVFchuRslKhInndWUeRaMuwLfRiklqgDAz/s320/IMG_2190.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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It doesn't look like much yet, but here's a pile of even more potential.<br />
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A tablecloth for next to nothing.<br />
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Kitchen towels to cut up and sew back together as colorful pillows and cushions.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdpY86lZQX5uXhdX4SQAoUzwNf8eAybStVhBP46WqNhG4_NgRjsGPUvfxaoZr5uMYvXzktFd8frngUHCHEMZN9i7Zg4Tu_X9ox0FY8GXmNRtbeb1oJTFd-u8JZrYFcY5S0lN4yKt-O32K/s1600/IMG_2185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdpY86lZQX5uXhdX4SQAoUzwNf8eAybStVhBP46WqNhG4_NgRjsGPUvfxaoZr5uMYvXzktFd8frngUHCHEMZN9i7Zg4Tu_X9ox0FY8GXmNRtbeb1oJTFd-u8JZrYFcY5S0lN4yKt-O32K/s320/IMG_2185.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Working on the arrangement of the furniture.<br />
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The grill ended up way more to the right.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPxf-KJtXiVquDOY1mW5KI0-uyXJcH_oqcj8_5DjnVJYCobkgqDAZjvtsCHWfmkyQOqPGgLR-aB0oB-EAkQ5ivf4pBsT9WFmgR-iK17YKml2sT5LfsIxfOSFSv9B9RE5Bo-WODP9ZcpMD/s1600/IMG_2189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPxf-KJtXiVquDOY1mW5KI0-uyXJcH_oqcj8_5DjnVJYCobkgqDAZjvtsCHWfmkyQOqPGgLR-aB0oB-EAkQ5ivf4pBsT9WFmgR-iK17YKml2sT5LfsIxfOSFSv9B9RE5Bo-WODP9ZcpMD/s320/IMG_2189.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The table cloth ready to be trimmed down to the right size with the left overs planned for a big cushion on my red adirondack chair.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhERdu5ZdI5KY6Ov8jftESuYmA9rfvkBILE4BvqzLWE_NMmSqdhCs6WKqeHUlegpNtzg6xmBz51g-fN6RQ11xpfTJ3lSUgF3ZLyIolN8p1hmoG6OqUF10pwXLNPJ4HwXyNfchpWhLjB6a4E/s1600/IMG_2191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhERdu5ZdI5KY6Ov8jftESuYmA9rfvkBILE4BvqzLWE_NMmSqdhCs6WKqeHUlegpNtzg6xmBz51g-fN6RQ11xpfTJ3lSUgF3ZLyIolN8p1hmoG6OqUF10pwXLNPJ4HwXyNfchpWhLjB6a4E/s320/IMG_2191.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>One pillow is sewn. Several more in line.<br />
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You are seeing 2 dish towels cut up to make one pillow.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRz75JUrgkiJWBXve9cTn-p4X4fDc-VVGznmT_Od0s4BLQuj0WaZ6xdHBME600tne9aJH20qiTALH8hq7-E-GCJPMgcIxAILrseSFQrFwFdz0-iHo3E0CT6RlXQRSjbRYg_myI5EjuMON/s1600/IMG_2193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRz75JUrgkiJWBXve9cTn-p4X4fDc-VVGznmT_Od0s4BLQuj0WaZ6xdHBME600tne9aJH20qiTALH8hq7-E-GCJPMgcIxAILrseSFQrFwFdz0-iHo3E0CT6RlXQRSjbRYg_myI5EjuMON/s320/IMG_2193.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Look at these cute chair pads that go with the table cloth. $5.99.<br />
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I don't know whether to spray paint the patio furniture black or white.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINEUWkP4AX3xTKg51RDGhsmhV-s5znYui4XUlAhM3u-8VUZ56OAFgK56jcRNSMbF8gbRKhnFR18j3vXFY5If4-P3-4nl_p3VbL5_sDltRpnU5xhqyVzN444dI0orXdo6H4UNpFD5rk48r/s1600/IMG_2187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINEUWkP4AX3xTKg51RDGhsmhV-s5znYui4XUlAhM3u-8VUZ56OAFgK56jcRNSMbF8gbRKhnFR18j3vXFY5If4-P3-4nl_p3VbL5_sDltRpnU5xhqyVzN444dI0orXdo6H4UNpFD5rk48r/s320/IMG_2187.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The 60% off lantern is hanging over the table with a flameless candle inside.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2irJgQfCFckReseW6GwVb2rZGs87S7KVHFJ7n3wfS-JYKqkhFLi20xsUol65ympdrHDxVaWf375MktauR9nU7MKxheFOi8hrXJ9aRKAV3PZFcaR7ejqbwXEFveVtq6TRDpWc2mbUO69b6/s1600/IMG_2192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2irJgQfCFckReseW6GwVb2rZGs87S7KVHFJ7n3wfS-JYKqkhFLi20xsUol65ympdrHDxVaWf375MktauR9nU7MKxheFOi8hrXJ9aRKAV3PZFcaR7ejqbwXEFveVtq6TRDpWc2mbUO69b6/s320/IMG_2192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This photo is sort of a "mini reveal" of things to come. I hesitate even posting this, as there's much more to be done.<br />
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Still in the wings:<br />
Lots more cushions and textiles.<br />
Plants- lots of plants.<br />
Maybe a small water fountain.<br />
Little "B" white lights for the ceiling over the patio.<br />
The wrought iron window frame thing hanging on the wall is going to lean artfully against the fence behind some pots of plants.<br />
I'd like a piece of waterproof art on stretched canvas to bring some color to that wall. I may have to paint it myself as stretched canvas paintings for the outdoors run about $250.<br />
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I'm looking forward to using my patio this year. Reading, writing and resting will take place. Maybe a bit a knitting and a glass or two of wine with my neighbor Mimi.<br />
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The more I look at the table cloth the more I think I had a bed spread like that when I was in college in teh late 60's. What's old is new again.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-4067504095997198812011-02-22T20:34:00.001-05:002011-02-22T20:38:10.748-05:00I've been in a wonderful organizing, cleaning and de-cluttering mood. A lot of it I attribute to some inspiring blogs I've found. <a href="http://www.handymancraftywoman.com/">Handy Man Crafty Woman</a> and <a href="http://organizingmadefun.blogspot.com/">Organizing Made Fun</a> are full of ideas, projects and inexpensive ideas for your home. I've been struggling for a while over accessorizing my mantle. I love the clean, crisp look of the new contemporary homes like you see at Crate & Barrel. But I don't love it for <i>me.</i><br />
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I love stuff. I love eclectic. I like layers and textures and places for my eye to travel. I found this mantel on <a href="http://myhomeredux.typepad.com/blog/2007/11/index.html">My Home Redux</a> and I loved it:<br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">So, I used the concept, and though I am not 100% happy with my attempt, I do like it and feel like I am on the right track:</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYA-M8JsVnDQbL8D4vU-MZZn41QTINPYn89xtB62JkCsxbRUbI2vNfPwcFD2ctCL52A0KH0rHozWb5mu4WjlfN_2viYAXhyphenhyphen0qjgbCl_e0zwRU7o3K09L9-ia4M5pTkQkkfA7G6mvGUS9Br/s1600/IMG_2079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYA-M8JsVnDQbL8D4vU-MZZn41QTINPYn89xtB62JkCsxbRUbI2vNfPwcFD2ctCL52A0KH0rHozWb5mu4WjlfN_2viYAXhyphenhyphen0qjgbCl_e0zwRU7o3K09L9-ia4M5pTkQkkfA7G6mvGUS9Br/s400/IMG_2079.jpg" width="265" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYA-M8JsVnDQbL8D4vU-MZZn41QTINPYn89xtB62JkCsxbRUbI2vNfPwcFD2ctCL52A0KH0rHozWb5mu4WjlfN_2viYAXhyphenhyphen0qjgbCl_e0zwRU7o3K09L9-ia4M5pTkQkkfA7G6mvGUS9Br/s1600/IMG_2079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">I think I want to layer the mirror and picture a bit more, and maybe turn the mirror up the long way. We'll see. It's a work in progress.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">I have a funny hole in my drywall where some speaker wire comes out. The home theater system is long dead, and I don't have a TV in this room any longer. So, this funky wire was coming out of the wall. I really didn't want to cover it up with drywall. I may put speakers there oneday. So, I hung some pictures in a rather unconventional way, but I really like it:</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">I only have 8 foot ceilings, so the one picture is really low. But I am short and it is ok. It's cheaper and more temporary than drywall. Ha! I just noticed that if you zoom on this photo you can see bits of yarn hanging out of the armoire. Guess where my yarn stash is- and no, it has not benefited from my organizing bug yet. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Next project; I'm going to make small lamp shades out of some left over wall paper for my dining room light fixture. Here's the before:</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">I'm smitten with my organizing and decorating with zero dollars projects. Now, if I could just figure out how to do groceries, utilities and gasoline on zero dollars. </div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-44883659811264057582011-02-12T16:48:00.001-05:002011-02-16T20:24:15.413-05:00My Perfect SaturdayI'm having a perfect Saturday. My cousin came over and picked up the piece of furniture that my TV had been on. I wanted to downsize to a smaller antique dresser. Photos to come. My den is a MESS. It's like I packed it up in 10 minutes. It isn't going back together in 10 minutes. It will probably take 10 days. How does that work?<br />
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I'm watching Mad Men- season 1. I love having an afternoon of marathon TV. This show is so well written. The setting is pure 1960. Lots of subtle satire comparing that era to the present day. Pregnant women smoking and drinking. EVERYONE smoking. Kids in no car seats. A little girl playing ghost with a plastic bag from the cleaner over her head and her mother chastising her that her "dry cleaning better not be on the floor of the closet". The a woman's place is in the homeyness of the scripts would be funny if it wasn't such a true depiction of the inequalities that affected women in the years before the feminist movement.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Women's roles in the family, business and the world have changed and are still evolving. I came of age during that change. It was a confusing time to grow up. There's a part of me that thinks my meals should be perfect and my silver should sparkle. (Apparently so should my kitchen and bathroom!) Then there's the part of me that cannot imagine life without a career. Just as the kitchen sparkles, so should my work life. My oldest daughter gave me one of the best pieces of wisdom I've received in my life. "Mom, your generation thinks you can have it all and do it all. My generation knows we can have whatever we want, but we cannot do it all." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, we can pick what we want to excel at. And be gentle on ourselves about all the rest. And be glad that our daughters generation is not nearly as confused as we are!</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-10024625280204876752011-02-08T21:21:00.000-05:002011-02-08T21:21:26.327-05:00Chris-entineThis weekend my cousins and I celebrated a combination very belated Christmas, early Valentines Day, Birthdays and any other winter holiday you can throw in. I've kept my little Christmas tree up in anticipation of this, and now I don't have an excuse for not putting it away!<br />
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My cousin gave me this beautiful yarn bowl. She got it when we visited the Northern Michigan Lamb and Wool Festival in West Branch, MI last September. I love it. I love knitting and I love pottery.<br />
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I will enjoy using it in my cozy little knitting corner:<br />
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Speaking of cozy- is there any better feeling than walking into your home after a busy day at work? And the bed is made. (New comforter coming soon!)<br />
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And a good book is waiting on your Kindle...<br />
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And the queen of the house is ready to come in and snuggle...<br />
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But wait, what's this? Where is my Kindle?<br />
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On the treadmill, as a reminder that there will be no kitty snuggling or reclining with my book in bed until I at least make an attempt to log some minutes.<br />
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Minutes are now logged and I'm off to snuggle with a certain Favorite Kitty who desperately needs attention!Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-75708854294270208072011-02-01T00:46:00.002-05:002011-02-01T01:19:44.644-05:00Serendipity Strikes Again & Some Family Photos<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Every so often life hands us moments that are so serendipitous, they are beyond description. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ve been gifted with two such moments this week. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ve played around on ancestry.com for a few years. Last year I found a 2nd cousin who had lost touch with the family. It was wonderful and is a story I will tell here one day. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This week I found </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">another</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> long lost cousin </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">plus</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> a cousin related by marriage. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The long lost cousin is a few years younger than I. She’s the granddaughter of my great uncle. I remember hearing about her as a child. I so wished I could meet her and we could be like sisters. She was an only child and so was I. I wondered why she never visited the family. What I didn’t know was that her father and grandfather (my great uncle) were estranged. Things like this were not discussed in front of a child in my family. In fact, Irish families seem to really excel at secret keeping. I could write many blog posts about family secrets!</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I found my long lost cousin on Ancestry. I wasn’t 100% sure it was her so I sent her a message. When she responded that she was indeed who I thought she was I felt like an important piece of a jigsaw puzzled just dropped into its place. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The heartwarming thing is I’ve been able to tell her how much her grandfather loved her. How photos of her were always front and center on his dresser. How he always carried a photo of her. How he talked about her all the time. She knew nothing of this. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The cause of the rift in the family doesn’t matter anymore. I hope that she and I will erase the chasm. I know that all parties who were involved in the rift will look down from heaven and be pleased. I am certain the estrangement has been healed in the heavenly realm. I am so looking forward to being part of the healing here on earth. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The other cousin related by marriage contacted me because she saw her great aunt Irene on my family tree. Irene was my great aunt by marriage. She passed away last year at age 96. She was probably the kindest, most gentle person I’ve ever known. When her niece contacted me looking for information on this branch of her family I was able to tell her that she has another great aunt who is still alive. She’s 101, lives in a nursing home and is sharp as a tack. I’m sure she’ll be a wealth of information. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I love putting the puzzle pieces of my ancestors together. I wish I had more facts. I wish I had a sharp as a tack 101 year old aunt. I know there were lots of stories that I only vaguely remember. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our ancestors shape who we are. Superficial things like eye color, complexion and height can be found in those who came before us. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But they have gifted us with much more than physical attributes. Their talents, their interests, their personalities all affect us just as much as the gene we inherited that determines eye color. I have ancestors who were seamstresses, tailors, quilters, knitters, artists, cooks, writers,upholsterers, doctors and homemakers. I come by my love of textiles and crafts and all things homey honestly. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> We all possess sacred gifts from relatives we’ve never met. Inside each of us are talents we let lie dormant. We don’t delve into the unknown world of painting, pottery or poetry because we doubt our abilities, think we don’t have time or don’t know where to start. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Below, my grandparents Erv and Loretta Roller. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwKSXTvPeqYxEykzvKcW1Bc_91fqwPmuvfyHdHkMWbxjbuWQpLO_yK2KqEXkSsFmZcn4irD-IWqoO50Dn0ZaS8Wczclt6EFV9pfdUJWuDAVKcKUrudXv3Vr_PncRWd_EIHtE95mazXvZQR/s1600/2806666110_3e56e0235e_s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwKSXTvPeqYxEykzvKcW1Bc_91fqwPmuvfyHdHkMWbxjbuWQpLO_yK2KqEXkSsFmZcn4irD-IWqoO50Dn0ZaS8Wczclt6EFV9pfdUJWuDAVKcKUrudXv3Vr_PncRWd_EIHtE95mazXvZQR/s200/2806666110_3e56e0235e_s.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We all have inherited aptitude for a world full of wondrous things . All that is required of us is to look inward and decide how we want to express our inherent talent. How can we honor those who came before by taking a risk and delving into a hobby or activity that they once enjoyed? </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My grandmother (below) owned a "letter mailing business" at a time when women did not own businesses. She, of course, gave it up when she got married. It was the lady like thing to do in those days! </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrZKaFeTIBHtJDCcuL8DTKOEO8gCuVm0PH7n9TUVRxP-ONN5uqvTOITKK_Unp4zEnx_mGwoWHajMlNv5x_a0qBPku14IAMWiK8zuOn0vDBujvfIemA8OzkFuScQ7_E67TBCxcDpxybrV4/s1600/Loretta+Weldon+HS+Grad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrZKaFeTIBHtJDCcuL8DTKOEO8gCuVm0PH7n9TUVRxP-ONN5uqvTOITKK_Unp4zEnx_mGwoWHajMlNv5x_a0qBPku14IAMWiK8zuOn0vDBujvfIemA8OzkFuScQ7_E67TBCxcDpxybrV4/s320/Loretta+Weldon+HS+Grad.jpg" width="194" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Follow your heart and see where it takes you. </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGHm4yxhT4M7FvqGqOQNloYiVyM7rNbHmQZVWZAXiL917zt6fO4kuyumKqkzvKhXDFOu_WS9m1UJpgKkf1GUafE_CBU4no23rjTxYzWrVv0tGC5ouldgTPUfbgoziGoRWmMG5fWOFD_bj/s1600/IMG_1005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGHm4yxhT4M7FvqGqOQNloYiVyM7rNbHmQZVWZAXiL917zt6fO4kuyumKqkzvKhXDFOu_WS9m1UJpgKkf1GUafE_CBU4no23rjTxYzWrVv0tGC5ouldgTPUfbgoziGoRWmMG5fWOFD_bj/s320/IMG_1005.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some Observations: </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Just Do It! Write a story, write a poem, write a book. Paint a watercolor. Draw a vase of flowers. Take some photos just for the pleasure of it. Visit a museum or a library. Write a journal. Sew a quilt. Sew a pillow. Knit. Needlepoint. Do counted cross stitch. Build a bird feeder. Cook something special. Bake bread. Decorate a room. Sing. Play music. Tell family stories. Bead a bracelet. Keep an art journal. Work on your family tree. Read a book. Go to a play. Exercise or do some yoga. Make a greeting card. Play baseball. Arrange flowers. Plant a garden. Write a letter. Explore things you want to know about online. Decorate a cake. Play cards. Take a walk. Meditate. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ll stop the list now, but I could go on for pages. The world is rich with things to do and explore. We are just as rich with ability we’ve yet to tap into. </span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some things that are noticeably missing from my Just Do It list:</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Get your taxes ready to file. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Pay speed camera tickets.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">File all your paperwork. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Balance your checkbook. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some things do not deserve to be on a Just Do It List!</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I know when I am 96 and sitting in a rocking chair I will not say “I wish I’d watched more I Love Lucy reruns.” Life is what we make it and we can make it really amazing. Or we can play solitaire on the computer. Just Do It. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-52000244106339098902011-01-31T21:07:00.000-05:002011-01-31T21:07:31.852-05:00I Heart VeggiesWe have another storm coming- this one will be mostly ice. I had to make the obligatory stop at the grocery store on the way home to prepare. (I actually <i>did</i> <i>need</i> toilet paper.) I was out of fruits and veggies too and my newly adopted oh so healthy lifestyle needs fresh fruits and veggies. Plus I got a really cute new grocery bag. No, I did not need it. I've never met a bag I didn't have to have. It's a sickness I tell you. But look at how cute it is:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHbpyPQf_IYhhHYFVr2B_hRWhnNnMPB1tI42-f9qG1WIhOzAg56SGPR4ns2ffbSIjxbwJEt1MO6RVBe6e_e-zCg1qyHtB4YQPiPh4aL-U1T9oLv7PA0HtfMHKJEa6UwcHS7DIAUZsiqDr/s1600/IMG_2052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHbpyPQf_IYhhHYFVr2B_hRWhnNnMPB1tI42-f9qG1WIhOzAg56SGPR4ns2ffbSIjxbwJEt1MO6RVBe6e_e-zCg1qyHtB4YQPiPh4aL-U1T9oLv7PA0HtfMHKJEa6UwcHS7DIAUZsiqDr/s400/IMG_2052.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Look at my bounty from Whole Foods- amazing fruits and veggies:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0c93hdFGLiioQpmVEJa6uu5Ls-Pwz6aUoB2aRsL1k-duqa3h0rD2CfjJVDhKJvPfOJFopsqmkRptcS0TS7LqY3K8iAQYtA2ZJabFAU2KqBzrT1m0PK3r9BC4pL32Jz3TYBD2VDw08IKc7/s1600/IMG_2049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0c93hdFGLiioQpmVEJa6uu5Ls-Pwz6aUoB2aRsL1k-duqa3h0rD2CfjJVDhKJvPfOJFopsqmkRptcS0TS7LqY3K8iAQYtA2ZJabFAU2KqBzrT1m0PK3r9BC4pL32Jz3TYBD2VDw08IKc7/s400/IMG_2049.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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I read a healthy eating tip that said if you put healthy snacks at eye level in your fridge you will be more likely to stick to the healthy eating program. I put a lazy susan in my fridge and I love the results:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0Uqw7jGBq-bYFQKpOEBsId1cqO0FNjH1MCGL2NLwFRxP1FJfU_8nUWLehVWQakJMIDUSZn2FeJr8hZjuC1RFR1wobaywRvHvKAUV5CiRT7oiO2vWYyRjpmIImNixWxPWbMyGa1wvGw0y/s1600/IMG_2053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0Uqw7jGBq-bYFQKpOEBsId1cqO0FNjH1MCGL2NLwFRxP1FJfU_8nUWLehVWQakJMIDUSZn2FeJr8hZjuC1RFR1wobaywRvHvKAUV5CiRT7oiO2vWYyRjpmIImNixWxPWbMyGa1wvGw0y/s320/IMG_2053.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now that I've taken the photo I can put the heavy cream back! :) I do have a small carton of heavy cream. It's left over from something I made at Christmas. I'm not using it, but it hasn't expired. I can't throw it out until it expires. That will make sense only to some of you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, I am prepared with rutabagas, sweet potatoes, cauliflower and lots of other veggies. I have honeycrisp apples and navel oranges that cost more than a prime rib used to cost. I have green bananas that will be ready to eat some time next week. I have chicken, hanger steak and salmon. And I pray that we don't lose power. If we do, I will have nothing but a mess. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There's something intrinsically satisfying about stocking up on "whatever" in preparation for a storm. It fulfills some sort of nesting instinct I've always had. I love the idea of my home being my sanctuary. It's a safe place to rest, relax, create and learn. It's the most comfortable place on earth. How many times have you been on a fabulous vacation, but nothing feels better than when you get home and sleep in your own bed? And now I am going to go crawl under the covers of my own bed, read a book and watch the weather. Tomorrow is another day for more organizing and putting more sanctuary-ness in place. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Observation: I do feel like my home is my sanctuary, until I open some of my closet doors. Yikes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036247191256785246.post-41868794655674287662011-01-28T17:07:00.000-05:002011-01-28T17:07:32.290-05:00Evil Red DotTwo years ago this coming Mother's Day my girls gave me my kitty, Juli. One of my daughters found her starving, freezing, wet, dirty and lost. Juli makes sure <i>none</i> of those conditions ever describe her now.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Under the glass coffee table looking at things that aren't there. </td></tr>
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She got a toy for Christmas that is the equivalent of a baby swing for cats. It's a lazer light that makes an evil red dot dart around the room all by itself.<br />
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She loves it. She wants to get that red dot! And she cries to have me turn the toy on. All. Day. Long.<br />
I officially have a two year old again.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's all for now. I have to go turn on Juli's toy. </div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061852001251662554noreply@blogger.com0