tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54253944919080902502024-03-05T12:31:57.785-08:00For the love of HtrHtrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-14613835394622637382011-03-23T11:15:00.000-07:002011-03-23T11:19:33.868-07:00Jon Edwards has nothing on this...Yesterday morning, my father-in-law's brother passed away. He has been ill for quite some time, and was residing in a hospice care facility. <br />On the previous Saturday, his family was gathered in his room, and his 4 year old granddaughter was coloring over in the corner. One of the family members asked if he could help her color. She said "No, Grandpa's angel is helping me." The person said "What?" and the little girl said "Grandpa's angel is helping me, but they're not going to take him until Tuesday." <br />He passed away at 12:30am on Tuesday morning.<br /><br />Goosebumps.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-1833288083320272732010-10-18T15:22:00.000-07:002010-10-18T15:35:12.574-07:00Good times... no, really, they're actually good!It's been a pretty good couple weeks. About a week and a half ago, I pulled together a fundraiser to help a local group with their goal to raise $10,000 for the Susan G. Komen for the Cure. It was a Pink Pancake Feed and Purse Auction. And it went well. Much better than I had hoped for. People really came through with donating purses, that were like little clown-cars with great things inside, and then closed up tight, so that folks had to bid on the bag and hope there was something great inside. With the 12 or so silent auction and 8 live auction purses, we made around $1200 and another $300 or so on the food. It was quite a delightful surprise and I had some really good help, although I put in a 10 hour day for myself. And my super hot auctioneer did a great job, as usual.<br />The next day I relaxed and continued crafting away, in preparation for the craft fair. I made my "big piece" which included a clay Cougar head. I snapped a picture of it with my phone, and when I was showing my husband on Sunday at the local bowling alley, our friend asked how much I wanted for it. I sheepishly told him, still being concerned that I might not sell my wares, and he said "I'll give you that right now for it". WHAAA? I asked him if he didn't want to see it in person first, and he said no, that his wife would love it for Christmas. I was even more excited, because it's all crimson and grey (obviously playing to my crowd) and she works in the Athletic Dept. So, my hope is that others are intrigued and would like to have one, also. I was flying high... I sold my first piece less than 24 hours after I made it AND before the craft fair! Woo hoo!<br />This last Saturday was the craft fair, and even though I was very happy about the money I already had in my pocket, was still a little nervous. But I did well. Really well. Like I-didn't-come-home-with-much well. And my mom, whom I shared a table with, did really well, too! And I got to hang out with my mom all day! Win-Win! I have money to put back into more crafts, and some in the bank, and money to play with during Homecoming this weekend! I wasn't even grumpy after shopping yesterday and coming home with nothing. And now, I'm pretty stress free until the holidays show up. This is a pretty nice feeling. I hope it sticks around.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-888012824836793132010-10-05T15:22:00.001-07:002010-10-05T15:54:58.127-07:00Stuff on the brain1. I hate waiting for the doctor's office to call. It doesn't matter if it's something major ("your pre-cervical cancer state is not advancing") or minor (i.e. "congratulations your cholesterol has not sky-rocketed despite your best efforts"). Both of these situations which I'm currently waiting to hear word on. Because, it appears, that my doctor is incapable of returning calls on her own and needs me to first do an initial reminder call trying to track her down (which never works) and leaving a phone number (which she never tries first). So then I call the next morning, after I've missed a random 6:30pm call to my home phone, to find out that she's not in the office today... after she was gone last week on vacation which she failed to mention in the sentence that started with "I'll call you with the results..." And then I sit with my cell phone on my desk all day, packing it to the bathroom with me, and hoping that's not actually the moment that she calls. In summary: argh.<br /><br />2. I get so darned excited to do fundraisers and then when it comes down to crunch time, I just want them to be over with. Because they keep me awake at night with dumb things, such as "what am I going to use for centerpieces now that I can't find what I'd planned on?", "is all my help going to show up?", "what if no one comes?" All of which are things that <em>absolutely cannot</em> be solved at 2am when I've let the dog out for the 3rd time. <br /><br />3. I like my community service stuff. I like helping people. And I'm pretty proud of the fact that I just won the state Moose association female community service volunteer of the year. I'm not looking for recognition for the things that I do, but I'm not necessarily disappointed when a surprise like that shows up. <br /><br />4. Craft fair. I'm doing my first craft fair on October 16th. It's at the Moose, so I have plenty of concerns that we won't sell all of the tables, although we're doing pretty good, and then I'm worried that we won't have a lot of people come through. I'd love to have people come through, but I'm so excited about the idea of sitting at a table all day, relaxing and sharing space with my mom, hanging out with people that I like, that I don't care too much. I've been a little bit stressed about trying to pull enough items together to have a decent collection to sell, but gosh, being "forced" to craft every night hasn't exactly been painful. And I'm trying not to think at all about whether I'll sell anything. Because that's where my heart starts beating fast... what if no one likes what I made? I hate watching people look over my products, so this is going to be difficult to endur. I'm trying to keep in mind that everyone likes different things, and <strong>I</strong> like what I made, so someone else probably will to. If not, I have a whole lot of new jewelry. :)<br /><br />5. Once this week's fundraising shenanigans and the craft fair are over, I'm more than likely going to get sick, but more importantly, I'm going to Cheney the following weekend for Homecoming. Which has become my annual getaway event. There will be no ex's to uncomfortably hang out with this year. Which is good, and bad, because I rarely pay for a drink when he's around. Which is awesome, because he owes me <em>at least</em> that. This year "the fraternity" has other commitments, so it's just going to be the BFF and our other roommate, whom I haven't seen in at least 15 years. Going to be interesting. But it will be relaxing, and I could really use that. And I miss my BFF. I like being around friends that I don't have to say anything to when I want them to glance over at the girl wearing the fluffy white boots in the middle of a redneck college town. For instance.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-40655264228242621752010-07-29T10:03:00.000-07:002010-07-29T10:10:28.739-07:00I'm how old?!?I just realized yesterday that next year will be 20 year high school reunion. Oh. my. god. As someone who was not a fan of high school, as previously discussed, this has brought forth a whole new batch of insecurities. How skinny can I get in one year? How many interesting things can I do in the next year to discuss during that one weekend? Ridiculous, I know. But I've been thinking about it non-stop, as if it's this coming weekend. <br />I must say... thank god for Facebook. It really has helped me built a comfort level with some of these people that I haven't seen in years. I'm almost looking more forward to this event than not. Which is saying a lot for me. So what I'm really going to work on is not being so damn insecure. I'm going to spend the next year creeping out of my shell and doing some things that are outside my comfort zone. Things that are nothing to the general public, but that make my heart beat faster. Even adding someone on Facebook that I know pretty well, but don't see all the time, is hard for me. How dumb is that? Okay. I can do this. *Sigh*<br />But, really.... how should I wear my hair?Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-78442582724937918772010-04-29T15:20:00.001-07:002010-04-29T15:44:13.512-07:00Dancin' ShoesConfession: I don't have any of those embarassing prom pictures. Why? Because I didn't go to prom.<br />Each year at this time, I think about prom a lot. Obviously, because it's EVERYWHERE. I always start by thinking "oh, how fun" with all those beautiful dresses and gorgeous shoes and hair appointments, and this slowly morphs into a very, very minute depression over the whole thing. I don't know if it's really prom that makes me sad or the whole high school flashback. I didn't enjoy high school. Oh, there were moments, mind you. But overrall... no, thank you. I think the only time I was ever really <em>involved</em> in high school like a normal kid was during sport seasons. The rest of the time I was just sort of floating over the whole scene, watching was happening around me. Because of this, I wasn't super popular or outgoing... thinks that help you get asked to prom. I came VERY close my senior year asking a freshman to go with me. But I couldn't muster the strength to ask, and certainly couldn't have handled being shot down. (One of my good friends now actually dated the guy in high school, and I'm quite certain I would have been shot down. Close call.)<br />So, now what? Are all these adult black tie events the extension of proms in adulthood? Is that why they're so popular? Or do the people that went to a lot of dances actually hate these because they've been to so many of them? Or they love them because they get to re-live the glory days? I don't know. In college, I once talked my boyfriend into doing something a normal couple would do, and we were supposed to go to the college Tolo. He told me two days before that he couldn't go. I still have the dress. It still has the tags on it. I'm currently too fat for it, but here's the plan: I won't be for long. My intention is to fit into that dress, go have my hair done and make my husband take me out. I might even have my picture taken in front of a balloon arch. I'll be sure to post the picture.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-68623308085416178312010-01-15T10:11:00.000-08:002010-01-15T10:14:50.848-08:00Feelin' fine, Feelin' crafty...So... this is totally fun: Paper Pals, the local, AMAZING, scrapbooking store is having a blog hop to celebrate the publishing of one of their very own design team members in the February issue of Creating Keepsakes magazine. (What an honor for her!) <br />This is what you do: <a href="http://www.paperpalsdesignteam.blogspot.com/">start here </a>and visit each of the blogs by 8 pm PST on Monday, January 25. Leave a comment and have a chance to win their personal giveaway. Awesome. Good luck!Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-74429820817208119192010-01-06T15:31:00.000-08:002010-01-06T15:36:29.742-08:00Feelin' sassyI did it. I joined a gym yesterday. AND I used it this morning. Uh huh, that's right. I got up at 5:00am to go exercise. A little treadmill, a little weights. And when I got done, I used their tanning bed. And then I drove myself home with a giant smile. Because I did it. I started what I hope to be a new lifestyle. And hopefully a newer, svelter me. <br />Oh, and the tanning? That's not going to be a regular occurrence. Because I'm aware of it's hazards. But I'm also aware of the hazard that awaits me if I don't do some pre-tanning before my trip at the end of the month. A 3rd degree burn across my entire body is slightly more hazardous than 10 minutes here and there. My trip? Oh, well... I'm going to THE BAHAMAS. :)Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-11995563210194080982009-11-25T15:14:00.000-08:002009-11-25T15:20:43.187-08:00ChristmasChristmas is one month from today. I'm spending a lot of time "worrying" about it this year. It's not a bad year, it's just an anxious, I need to hurry up and get my shopping done, sort of worry. See, we have extra people for Christmas this year. Our daughter and her boyfriend are coming out for Christmas, for two and a half weeks. I've only been around her a few times, but have a pretty good idea of what she likes. I've never met her boyfriend. It's difficult to not only buy presents for someone you've never met, but never even talked to. And then I put myself in his shoes: he's spending a HUGE holiday with people he doesn't know, in a house he's not familiar with. What a jump for him, too. I know it will all work out "fine" for Christmas, but I want it to be more than that. I want them to <em>really</em> enjoy themselves while they're here. This is the girl's first Christmas with her dad since she was about 5 years old. This is really a big deal. Without making myself insane over it, I'm going to make this is as funfilled as possible. I do wish that we weren't travelling across the state to spend the 24th - 26th with my husband's family, because I don't think anything would be better than our little family being able to wake up Christmas morning in our own house, with stockings and presents from Santa. Maybe there will be snow on the Pass.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-12242173923369660992009-05-26T14:47:00.000-07:002009-05-26T15:04:49.916-07:00When push comes to shoveI had a couple of incidents happen last weekend that caused me to see my life a little clearer. One was with friends, one was with family. I'm not saying that I'm "all knowing" now, but I actually felt my spine straighten and my chin lift up. Literally. I could start to taste what I'm made of. I cannot allow the comments that you feel necessary to make have the effect on me that they do. I won't be crushed by the words coming from your mouth. Our relationship is what it is. I love you, but it's my life. I love you for who you are, and I expect the same from you. If you choose not to do that, it's not my issue. The realization was a little exhausting, but I felt good about it. It felt very "sane".Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-36089998603057820892009-05-11T07:42:00.000-07:002009-05-11T07:49:57.334-07:00Not waiting to exhaleI realized about a week ago that I hated the stress monkey that I had become. Between work and personal issues, I was monumentally grumpy. I didn't want to, but I seemed to end up that way by 9am every morning. Ugh. The weekends weren't enough to wash it away. <br />So I'm done. I'm done with being grumpy. I consider myself a fairly self-aware person and knew the effect of my grumpiness on others. I can't constantly let others get to me and ruin my perfectly good days. I don't have any control over their bad habits, so I can't let them effect me like they have. I'm taking deep breaths. It's amazing what a deep breath can do. Of course, I take a lot of them and people might think I'm hyperventilating. :)<br />*snifffffffff* *whoooooooooooo*Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-76698947846965627922009-04-09T12:45:00.000-07:002009-04-09T13:01:12.964-07:00Blood, sweat and burgersI spent last Monday night watching Wrestlemania 25 with my husband and my son, staying up well past my bedtime. It was a belated Christmas present to our pro-wrestling obsessed boy. Nothing's greater in the world to a 14 year old than people smashing into each other and the fake drama that surrounds it. My husband and I were both wrestling fans at that age, too, so we're fairly understanding. Of course, we didn't have DVR capabilities to record every ounce of wrestling on TV to watch later. And let's be clear, there's A LOT of wrestling on TV these days. It's on several times a week.<br />So, Monday night was four full hours of explosions and Kid Rock and half-naked girls and large, sweaty men. Of course, the latter wasn't <em>all </em>that bad. (I may or may not have fallen for several muscular, neckless men during my single days. I will not deny nor confirm this. I discovered I like necks, though, they're kissable. Whew... is it warm in here?) We had burgers and home fries for dinner, one of the boy's favorite meals. I also threw in some mid-Wrestlemania Chocolate and Caramel Crunch-n-Munch that I highly recommend. While we were cooking dinner, my son said "Wow, burgers, homefries and Wrestlemania!" With a small sarcastic drip I replied, "mmm, it's like a little slice of heaven." Without missing a beat, he frantically nodded his head, "Yeah! <em>Really</em>!" I didn't even attempt to help him catch my sarcasm - he was the happiest boy in the world.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-69832107891290655282009-02-18T15:55:00.000-08:002009-03-13T15:15:12.292-07:00Life's little pleasuresJust a few things that I really think are life's little pleasures - that really help you <em>feel</em> that moment in your life.<br /><br />1. Warm cookies.<br /><br /><br />2. Clean, warm sweat socks at the end of the day.<br /><br /><br />3. The smell of your mom or grandma's perfume.<br /><br /><br />4. Homemade macaroni and cheese.<br /><br /><br />5. Your dog giving you a little, tiny kiss on the end of your nose.<br /><br /><br />6. The smell of fresh, cut grass.<br /><br /><br /><br />7. Having your grandma tell you that "you're a good kid", no matter how old you are.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-57993747066678936362009-02-02T08:20:00.000-08:002009-02-02T12:48:56.929-08:00Homestretch21. I LOVE green olives. And all things salty.<br /><br />22. I love to craft. I really love beads and making my own jewelry, but I will try my hand at crafting darn near anything. I restrain myself as much as possible due to lack of space.<br /><br />23. I'm allergic to a wide variety of foods, some that I really miss: potatoes, chocolate, milk, horseradish, ice cream. *sigh*<br /><br />24. I'm starting to understand more and more that everyone has different types of friends: work friends, party friends, sit down-and-talk friends, go- have-lunch friends and that it's very rare to find someone that fulfills all of these.<br /><br />25. My favorite thing in the world is to lie in bed on Sunday morning with my husband while we pet the dog between us. We then get up and drink our fancy, flavored, weekend coffee and read the paper. I really love the down-time of reading the newspaper. I hope they never vanish completely.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-64252121692157215962009-01-30T14:46:00.000-08:002009-01-30T14:59:29.371-08:00Things 16-20 - almost done!16. My dream job would be to have my own boutique that sold fun gift items and hilarious knick-knacks. Maybe a few craft items. Things that women give other women because only they would get the joke. It would be called Wicked Giggles. My dream job also entails having an animal at work. And those that didn't like my big, orange terminally pissed-off cat and my overly-flatulent, lazy dog could suck it, and walk their happy asses back out my shop door.<br /><br />17. When I was little I wanted to be a dancer when I grew up. I believed this until the day that my dance teacher mumbled to herself, "I don't know why I bother, you're not gonna be any good anyways." Grown-ups can suck sometimes. I told my Mom and she called and told her exactly where she could stick that tap shoe, and then signed me up for baton lessons the next day. Which I loved, and was pretty good at. Grown-ups can kick ass sometimes. <br /><br />18. I love to sing in my car. As loudly as possibly. I'm also a pretty good seat dancer.<br /><br />19. I had a series of truly vile varsity coaches in high school, for both volleyball and softball. People that said very nasty things and loved to belittle you. Karma will find you, my friends.<br /><br />20. My softball number is 11. My husband's number is 8. We both have the same tattoo with our respective numbers on them. He proposed to me, by coincidence, on 11-8. Our favorite number is 19. You do the math.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-42793156796898952612009-01-30T09:25:00.000-08:002009-01-30T09:34:20.903-08:00More things to bore you with...11. I love that my husband loves animals as much as I do. He hasn't met a dog yet that doesn't feel a need to clean his face. We think he must taste like gravy to dogs.<br /><br />12. I love it when my husband narrates a voice for our dog. Especially when he puts her paw to her head and says, in a high-pitched voice, "Private Dingo reporting for duty, sir" and then goes on a ten minute military rant of Lucy talking to her sergeant. It's HILARIOUS.<br /><br />13. My husband is a dumbass. But he's my dumbass.<br /><br />14. When I was about eight, our family was caught in a storm on Dworshak Reservoir in our seventeen-foot fishing boat. The winds were blowing about 60 mph and causing 20 foot swells. When we were on top of the swell we could see shore, when we weren't... we saw nothing but walls of water. I don't know how we weren't killed. This attributes to my whitewater and lightning fears. Don't tell me just to calm down, I'm not going to get over it.<br /><br />15. I love turkey sandwiches. Sourdough bread, white meat, little mayo, little butter, cranberry, sprinkling of salt. Yes, please!Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-53897023492657242152009-01-29T14:28:00.000-08:002009-01-30T09:24:06.137-08:0025 things continued...6. I don't know if I'm bionic yet, but do know that I've had a lot of surgeries. Here goes:<br />1992 - ankle surgery. Blew it out two years earlier sliding into third base. Finished the season. Crappy doctor told me it was just a sprain.<br />1996 - gallbladder removal. Not delightful. Laid in the basement for a week watching the summer Olympics. This caused me to hate Kerri Strug with a passion. Her voice could peel paint.<br />1999 - sinus surgery. This is when I found out I was allergic to hydrocodone and that's why I was violently ill during the first two surgeries. Try throwing up with staples in your stomach. Not good.<br />2001 - neck surgery. Numerous falls, car wrecks, softball and bad genetics gave me a titanium plate and four screws. Definitely bionic from this one.<br />2003 - knee surgery. Dislocated my knee cap playing softball in St. Maries. Shouldn't play ball on fields that are built over old landfills.<br />2006 - sinus surgery #2. Fixing what the other doctor missed the first time. I actually had a staph infection in my sinuses when I went in. They also gave me an injected antibiotic before I went under that makes you feel like they dumped itching powder on your asshole. They call it the "Itchy Butt Medicine". Worst feeling EVER.<br /><br />7. I couldn't be prouder to be the daughter and granddaughter of a fire captain and fire chief, respectively. Having a parent that could be killed in the line of duty does that to you. I was really proud the day my dad came home and announced that he'd saved a gerbil from a fire. *sniff*<br /><br />8. I used to work nights/weekends at a tanning salon as a receptionist. I once found a used tampon behind one of the beds. Who does that? I also had a crispy, leathery old guy open the door and talk to me in his tighty-whiteys. Eww.<br /><br />9. I love the ocean. I love the smell of it and the little creatures. Just like being around animals, I'm much calmer when I'm by the ocean.<br /><br />10. Being a stepparent is the hardest thing I've ever done. And I love it.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-80375088249816880422009-01-28T08:54:00.000-08:002009-02-03T15:23:19.017-08:0025 things about me... the beginning...I had a friend that posted a Facebook note where you're supposed to put down 25 little known facts about yourself. Thought I'd give it a try, figuring I'll either be able to think of 3 things or 153. We'll see. Here we go...<br /><br />1. I'm deathly afraid of whitewater. Conveniently (!) I discovered this as my parents were putting me in a canoe to take a 50 mile trip down Dworshak Reservoir. The first day consisted of going through three sets of rapids. Relatively small rapids in the world of rapids, but frothy whitewater all the same. This whole trip was quite an adventure, but maybe that's a story for a later blog. I can't even listen to people tell stories about rafting and whitewater because I stop breathing.<br /><br />2. I'm a better person when I'm around animals. I'm quite aware of this fact - I can feel myself become calmer, and I'm sure that I am more pleasant to be around. And I love everything about them. Especially puppy butts. Some people have biological clocks that tick for babies... mine ticks for puppies.<br /><br />3. When I was little I used to wear bobby pins hidden in my hair in case I was ever kidnapped. I learned how to pick locks with them so that I could rescue myself from handcuffs. Really. Saw it in a movie.<br /><br />4. My favorite sport is softball. This is not a newsflash to anyone that knows me. The main reason I love it, however, is because it reminds me of my family. My dad played softball every year, and my mom played a few years, too. I lived for the two days a week we could go watch my dad play, have Taco Time for dinner, and maybe get to hang out with his team afterwards at Rathaus Pizza. We didn't take family vacations... we went to softball tournaments. But we went to Coeur D'Alene, Ellensburg, McCall... places that seem exotic when you're young. But we usually camped and had other small adventures between games that made the trip more of a "vacation." I also love the smell of fresh cut grass, leather conditioner and how soft a new batting glove is. It's my heart. And it's where I met my husband. Making it where I found the rest of my heart.<br /><br />5. I hate Cheez-its, apricots and liver. Those are pretty much the three foods I refuse to eat. Unless you turn those apricots into jam, then they morph into something delicious.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-37411326249332272172008-12-24T08:45:00.000-08:002008-12-24T08:49:38.365-08:00Crystal Perfection<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6kbqKG_wzxs4lxBhQ9ihu0Cbpm-Mcdwmts27L3DIDj8ddKXcYJfrqKDSlIZYhHlrV1ZRmzrcvSXp76Ioj_rMV6BklD_MHctt0d4Q92FvqEP4ObeO7evkzlCyWebu_Ae7l-SXRMniNu8/s1600-h/snowflake.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283398914544777442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6kbqKG_wzxs4lxBhQ9ihu0Cbpm-Mcdwmts27L3DIDj8ddKXcYJfrqKDSlIZYhHlrV1ZRmzrcvSXp76Ioj_rMV6BklD_MHctt0d4Q92FvqEP4ObeO7evkzlCyWebu_Ae7l-SXRMniNu8/s320/snowflake.jpg" border="0" /></a> Could someone please tell me how nature can be this amazing? This is an actual picture of a snowflake. Perfectly symmetrical and, if you look closely, there's even a smaller snowflake outline right in the center. How can something this perfect be created in an instant and just fall out of the sky? And not just one perfect design falling... but millions. It's so completely awesome. Another fabulous joy of the season. Merry Christmas.<br /><div></div>Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-84287414687069619552008-12-22T15:59:00.000-08:002008-12-22T16:04:42.103-08:00Genetic sludge #1 or Thank You, Mr BearI've recently been told that at the ripe old age of 35 that i'm developing cataracts. Luckily they're the kind that start from the outside and work their way in, (instead of creating a giant blur in the middle) - referred to as "corneal spikes" or some crap. More genetic sludge passed directly along from my father. (He owes me a pony.) It's comforting to know that <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/picturegalleries/picturesoftheday/3900456/Pictures-of-the-day-22-December-2008.html?image=4">this</a> bear has already undergone his cataract surgery and is blazing the way for me. Thank You, Mr. Bear. Your deed has not gone unnoticed.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-27601405270953971572008-12-03T15:42:00.000-08:002008-12-22T16:09:23.280-08:00My current obsessionMy obsession of the moment is <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/">pioneerwoman.com</a>. This woman is hysterically funny, takes fabulous photos, lives on a ranch and has recipes on her site that has you drooling all over yourself and side-tripping by the store on the way home so that you can make what you just saw. Her blogs are fantastically funny and sweet and completely honest. And she's obsessed with her dogs, which makes me love her even more. She's living a hard-working, cattle ranch life that I've dreamt about most of my life. It must correspond to one of my past lives, because I can clearly picture my wide open space, cabin in the middle of a prairie, with the mountains right next door. Of course, I'd be a prairie woman with a vegetarian lifestyle because I couldn't actually <em>kill</em> anything without sobbing hysterically and having a four hour memorial service for it.<br />But please run to check out this website. And take time to watch the videos.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-1317556542152668212008-11-18T09:30:00.000-08:002008-11-18T09:37:48.902-08:00Comfort<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3CEC81CIgv1qu8w7uWb0Cz594cIdMEt0eVHjt0rab2oZUc_NMGF7iBD3g3lOb1RPHqdq2GjDoHQG2wkl1CQp0vzd-2JZv2VHQiMrm6wfg1rqgkDEkYrxk363HL9q0w757THSg_PFY0uI/s1600-h/sleepy+dingo.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270051436119662002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3CEC81CIgv1qu8w7uWb0Cz594cIdMEt0eVHjt0rab2oZUc_NMGF7iBD3g3lOb1RPHqdq2GjDoHQG2wkl1CQp0vzd-2JZv2VHQiMrm6wfg1rqgkDEkYrxk363HL9q0w757THSg_PFY0uI/s320/sleepy+dingo.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br />In case you're wondering what contentment looks like, this is it. You can't help but feel more relaxed when you look at this picture. This is the wonder dingo, Lucy. She does the same thing everytime she sleeps: she starts on her side and then rolls to this position. And beware, right after she turns over, one foot always kicks out and will tae-bo your ass right in the eyeball. Not enjoyable. Oh, and since she's taken to eating large quantities of bread off the counter when we're not home, she's become a little... gassy. Also not enjoyable. But then she's cute and all the world is right. Kids are always cuter when they're sleeping. :)Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425394491908090250.post-89113630030610905842008-11-17T09:10:00.000-08:002008-11-17T09:13:30.840-08:00ThisAs a true believer of the cathartic nature of journaling, I thought I'd give this a whirl. Also because I'm a complete voyeur when it comes to these things and I'm totally fascinated by people. I love knowing about them, where they're from, what they're doing, all of it. Not so sure I want to be the "voyeur-ee" but we'll see. And God knows I could use a tension-reliever in my life.Htrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12685725889589197598noreply@blogger.com0