tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82628820874902572302024-03-12T16:51:47.732-07:00Thoughts of a preacher's wifeMehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.comBlogger211125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-90956003499955987992011-04-16T14:05:00.001-07:002011-04-16T14:07:24.509-07:00Nationals at BJU<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxx36Tkn5yGZNXFld4cRvqIcin-svCr1rzH9gB6CupCK3Sd3DEce_ukEwCsjAkascQO7GGi849DIQ0VdQGF3z7qxNPB-fcaT2K5CkC8jUKSATS3wlR45BEx8BVxrkAi2kbEtlb__LweY/s1600/Nationals+Winner.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxx36Tkn5yGZNXFld4cRvqIcin-svCr1rzH9gB6CupCK3Sd3DEce_ukEwCsjAkascQO7GGi849DIQ0VdQGF3z7qxNPB-fcaT2K5CkC8jUKSATS3wlR45BEx8BVxrkAi2kbEtlb__LweY/s400/Nationals+Winner.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596290856331375410" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The large instrumental ensemble Joel plays baritone in just placed</div><div style="text-align: center;">2nd at the AACS National Competition!!!! </div><div style="text-align: center;">Congratulations Joel!!!</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-20021385724482668582011-04-15T15:16:00.001-07:002011-04-15T15:47:48.776-07:00Pyrex Love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-LbqEiE-LD2sKbU03O6tIOPB9G6RuKIr1friEk2iTFAQpAyTGNPR5NZM14e9RWHOffNWRSOTA_eBTxqEgyNhDHfb_t0FSxPp_7zX1GZZAYZ-jEq6n6xg5kg0l86BSol6-tXRfOVfu4I/s1600/6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 398px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-LbqEiE-LD2sKbU03O6tIOPB9G6RuKIr1friEk2iTFAQpAyTGNPR5NZM14e9RWHOffNWRSOTA_eBTxqEgyNhDHfb_t0FSxPp_7zX1GZZAYZ-jEq6n6xg5kg0l86BSol6-tXRfOVfu4I/s400/6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595944641896477906" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Me and Ginger c. 1974</div><div><br />Since starting my Etsy shop, I have spent some time searching for and researching vintage Pyrex dishes . . . actually, I am starting to become a little obsessed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not sure why I love Pyrex so much . . . actually maybe I do know.<div><br /></div><div>For me Pyrex dishes just feel good. Somehow, much like Pepsi Throwback, Pyrex takes me back to the 70's.<div><br /></div><div>Brian and I talk about it all the time . . . we both just had really, really good childhoods. I am not sure what the political or social climate of the 70's was - but life for kids was great.</div><div><br /></div><div>We played outside. We watched great shows on TV like <i>Emergency</i> and <i>The Brady Bunch</i>. We wore cool clothes. And we ate supper at home every night out of Pyrex dishes! </div><div><br /></div><div>Life was simple and just plain good. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>When I come across different Pyrex patterns memories of Aunt Ann's meatloaf, Aunt Janie's chicken casserole, or Aunt Rose's garden fresh tomatoes are evoked.</div><div><br /></div><div>But more than that it is just remembering being a kid.</div><div><br /></div><div>Is it crazy to feel all of that about a glass dish? Maybe, but I must not be the only one to feel this way.</div><div><br /></div><div>While trying to research a Pyrex pattern that I had never seen before, I ran across the most AWESOME website. Awesome that is if you love Pyrex.</div><div><br /></div><div>At <a href="http://pyrexlove.com">pyrexlove.com</a> you can see EVERY Pyrex pattern ever made! Talk about nostalgia!</div><div><br /></div><div>My plans tonight are to sip on a Pepsi Throwback and look at old Pyrex patterns while watching <i>Emergency</i> on DVD!</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Life is still good.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-82284552712058241992011-04-10T19:22:00.000-07:002011-04-10T19:27:34.954-07:00Joel and Amanda<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6lhTLKg1V9rD1Xz0c9YOOGRjWB8ByeNu34sYLjU8wVRJCHoYm7rt_pTM8GuuZnXmCDTM3H1nhagPfk0at0JYnsm5QLNRWPy4YUgfleFncFVQ0befGWkEgp0l9SPY7rnebjxtdnzBU5E/s1600/0402012143b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6lhTLKg1V9rD1Xz0c9YOOGRjWB8ByeNu34sYLjU8wVRJCHoYm7rt_pTM8GuuZnXmCDTM3H1nhagPfk0at0JYnsm5QLNRWPy4YUgfleFncFVQ0befGWkEgp0l9SPY7rnebjxtdnzBU5E/s400/0402012143b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594145953162069954" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Joel and Amanda in Manchester, New Hampshire</div><div style="text-align: center;">at a hockey game.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Something tells me they weren't that interested</div><div style="text-align: center;">in the hockey game.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-48578281450218636702011-04-02T14:06:00.000-07:002011-04-02T14:19:03.767-07:00New Venture<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdq7zH2RP7Rp7oAQBuNLnDZW_WIUscQU9Uqf5MhJTfi6VC1-FWuATLugWUHn4a2lmM9cfkgNL6oU203la-6cIzDBD7cNY8tW7ICBsk7ZbpjuZFam_hKCbXEW0m2Ie-gryf0Upi8KxK9yI/s1600/EtsyLogo.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdq7zH2RP7Rp7oAQBuNLnDZW_WIUscQU9Uqf5MhJTfi6VC1-FWuATLugWUHn4a2lmM9cfkgNL6oU203la-6cIzDBD7cNY8tW7ICBsk7ZbpjuZFam_hKCbXEW0m2Ie-gryf0Upi8KxK9yI/s400/EtsyLogo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591097348898111250" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I have officially entered the world of Etsy!<br />Go to <a href="http://etsy.com/shop/TheWifeandDaughter?ref=si_shop">TheWifeandDaughter</a> to check out my shop!<br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-79864927590212140672011-04-01T19:31:00.000-07:002011-04-01T20:07:02.551-07:00Nor'easter<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3sT5XsmEgN9kOzFLQAIApcJ3g9IiVSv7hgQ-Mg1cCW4ynKVorM5kqxbo4qbfyr9zRjGTZzv6sl_Zzbu0JHEPKxznRRy3ASQCJnu9VXttG9rUQ7KFxH7Kr6RpsoLUHUEtkn0wepixvb4/s400/Niagra+3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590812848021776354" /><div style="text-align: center;">Squinting in the sun - but at least the sun was shining!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3sT5XsmEgN9kOzFLQAIApcJ3g9IiVSv7hgQ-Mg1cCW4ynKVorM5kqxbo4qbfyr9zRjGTZzv6sl_Zzbu0JHEPKxznRRy3ASQCJnu9VXttG9rUQ7KFxH7Kr6RpsoLUHUEtkn0wepixvb4/s1600/Niagra+3.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTYbzd0AjoDvOkjyJh0UhrnB6_9ffHE4_1ybayZuZulLTGLwLmXRq9s8wRyVPCI2AafW5H5qdp_GgY9VqgAySQXPZVDQXL4tPgGNtUzJAwYz6v06MhI6htr1Pwk1nsowm63kExTSODnQ/s1600/Niagra+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTYbzd0AjoDvOkjyJh0UhrnB6_9ffHE4_1ybayZuZulLTGLwLmXRq9s8wRyVPCI2AafW5H5qdp_GgY9VqgAySQXPZVDQXL4tPgGNtUzJAwYz6v06MhI6htr1Pwk1nsowm63kExTSODnQ/s400/Niagra+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590812841791500498" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I can't believe they were filming a documentary</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">about our trip to Niagara Falls!</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHt1qgKjAfl3yDmZlVL_B7mIZvTuUAQR9MnDugL4uxLeziyteIGOOiMQ82potrWbQ-ZNGgzHYgCSQazYxS3shSAby0uJqsLArlgGjxrPtIkpllEMpN9APiUBj98Pio6bjsTsc9BgiXtOA/s1600/Niagra+1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHt1qgKjAfl3yDmZlVL_B7mIZvTuUAQR9MnDugL4uxLeziyteIGOOiMQ82potrWbQ-ZNGgzHYgCSQazYxS3shSAby0uJqsLArlgGjxrPtIkpllEMpN9APiUBj98Pio6bjsTsc9BgiXtOA/s400/Niagra+1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590812840390123538" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">American Falls and Bridal Falls in the background.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>It has been spring break week here and Brian and I blew through New England like a nor'easter! We left Sunday morning after church for our 18 hour trek to take Joel to see Amanda in New Hampshire!<div><br /></div><div>Considering neither Brian or I had ever been any farther east than Columbus, Ohio, we were excited to see some new parts of the country. Thankfully the weather was good and we made good time. </div><div><br /></div><div>We got to New Hampshire around 5:30 pm on Monday and had a great evening with Amanda's family. Tuesday morning we were able to visit with Amanda's grandparents, Richard and Diane (missionaries with Open Air Campaigners), who are responsible for getting this whole "Joel and Amanda" thing going in the first place!</div><div><br /></div><div>Brian and I were were back on the road by noon on Tuesday and made it to our destination of Niagara Falls by 10:00 pm that night. We stayed at a hotel within walking distance to the falls and had a great time there on Wednesday morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were back in the car by noon and amazingly enough were home by 9:00 pm Wednesday night! Wow! That was a lot of driving . . . but we were able to add the states of Pennsylvania, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Massachusetts</span>, New York, and New Hampshire to the list of states to which we have been!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-7204588386046248752011-03-06T11:01:00.000-08:002011-03-08T12:37:22.977-08:00We are the Champions!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqi8QUi83fCWWxI5fBcP820EOKlXywCZeyCwukA6rBIzs1pjXX3lzLnsMQmLeOgfvxHhisIG4EHV1KMc6EnBxXqUWBgb3kbBOSfJSIbC68VxlHEh46jJtZbgnAkzj37hL3YIVR_HMMG9Y/s1600/downsized_0305111713b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqi8QUi83fCWWxI5fBcP820EOKlXywCZeyCwukA6rBIzs1pjXX3lzLnsMQmLeOgfvxHhisIG4EHV1KMc6EnBxXqUWBgb3kbBOSfJSIbC68VxlHEh46jJtZbgnAkzj37hL3YIVR_HMMG9Y/s400/downsized_0305111713b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581044926743407554" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Joel and the TCM Eagles ended the 2010-2011</div><div style="text-align: center;">as IACS State Champions!</div><div style="text-align: center;">(watch highlight video <a href="http://whatmydadsaw.blogspot.com/2011/03/iacs-state-champs.html">here</a>)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I thought about writing a poem, maybe a haiku, about basketball</div><div style="text-align: left;"> . . . something to reflect the emotions and ups and downs of the season. But instead I will just summarize in bullet form and end this post with an ode:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Season started with a lot of pressure. This was THE team . . . the team they had been preening and nurturing since junior high.</li><li>Joel was the 5th starter. . . the only junior among the 4 starting seniors.</li><li>First big game . . . Joel sprains in ankle in the FIRST quarter. The rest of the season is filled with a lot of tape, ice and ibuprofen.</li><li>The first week of December was spent in sunny Florida at the PCC basketball tournament. The boys played well and had some fun on the beach. Brian and I enjoyed the time on the beach too!</li><li>Christmas break was spent at a not-nearly-as-fun tournament in Richmond where the team faced the stiffest competition of the season. They got their hat handed to them on occasion but out of the pressure emerged the stronger, more confident player in Joel. Coach said if he were giving out a tournament MVP award it would go to Joel!</li><li>January came and so did Megan's wedding. Joel missed a pretty big game which conflicted with the wedding . . . but I don't think he minded that much. He liked his tux and loves his sister!</li><li>Joel battled the coaches and proved to them and himself that he was a determined ball player. I am confident that the steps he took to establish himself as a player will benefit him on and off the court for years to come.</li><li>January also brought with it the full-blown flu. Although he only missed one game due to it, he practiced for a week and played one game while running a 101 degree fever. I guess it is true that <i>that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger</i>. </li><li>February brought changes to the team and the starting five which consisted of four seniors and Joel changed to three seniors, one sophomore and Joel. </li><li>February also brought a lot of snow which meant a week off of school, missed practices and cancelled games.</li><li>Later February brought make-up practices and make-up games. On one such make-up game Joel was leading scorer with 20 points and had an awesome highlight reel worthy put back!</li><li>Late February, more changes to the starting line-up . . . now two seniors, two sophomores and Joel.</li><li>March Madness finally came and with it the state finals. Shock and Awe was their intent . . . the team resolved to play their hardest . . . full-tilt until the end. And shock and awe they did! Joel, unfortunately, fouled out early in the second game but made up for that in the final game with several big blocks, powerful defense, and some needed buckets. Friends and family there cheering him on, TCM history was made!</li></ul><div style="text-align: center;">Ode to Basketball </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I know what plays are Spartan, Michigan State and L from all of my basketball watching.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My bottom is flat from all of the bleacher sitting, and</div><div style="text-align: center;">my belly is flabby from all of the McDonald's eating.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My throat is sore from all of the cheering, and</div><div style="text-align: center;">our bank account is empty from all of the spending.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our tires are worn out from all of the driving, but</div><div style="text-align: center;">my Tuesdays and Fridays will now be empty.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I will now have no excuse not to go to Zumba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I love Hoosier basketball especially when my boys play;</div><div style="text-align: center;">I would do it all again in a heartbeat . . . </div><div style="text-align: center;">I guess I will next season!</div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-48274137952965101342011-02-27T13:41:00.001-08:002011-02-27T14:25:23.515-08:00Dirty Little Secrets<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-UHh7LOlYPZkuex9aGzcen49p29LWQyMRxSnLfuSCra87XjN3imTTahJDcAClZoHf01gBEgAnzUXPeNYNMN8gtdSINQSqeor6TsPyLbje2MijLFiQNfoawfqZMXQmcimjpb2x12HzzM/s1600/dirty+laundry.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-UHh7LOlYPZkuex9aGzcen49p29LWQyMRxSnLfuSCra87XjN3imTTahJDcAClZoHf01gBEgAnzUXPeNYNMN8gtdSINQSqeor6TsPyLbje2MijLFiQNfoawfqZMXQmcimjpb2x12HzzM/s400/dirty+laundry.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497730599046594" /></a><br /><div>To follow suit with <a href="http://smittenwithasmidge.blogspot.com/2011/02/dirty-little-secrets.html">Megan</a>, <a href="http://acitygirls-countrylife.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-dirty-secrets.html">Bree </a>and <a href="http://thetarvinfamily.blogspot.com/2011/02/dirty-little-secrets.html">Angel.</a></div><div><br /></div>1. I can stack all of the dishes I own in my dish strainer at the same time. I do it frequently.<div>2. I used to hide dirty dishes in the oven until they caught fire one day.</div><div>3. I have a humiliating public bathroom story that could rival our dear friend R.B.'s - the details of which will go to the grave with me. </div><div>4. I am reformed from texting while driving.</div><div>5. At any given time there is some form of pet excrement on the floor in my house.</div><div>6. I don't ever park in the nurses' parking lot. I park in the closer patient parking lot. Sometimes when it is cold and the nurse with MS walks in from the nurses' lot, I feel bad. (Disclaimer: I am not lazy it is just that I am always running late.)</div><div>7. I am addicted to hairspray. There is a can in the bathroom at work. I use it every time I go to the bathroom. The can is not mine.</div><div>8. I lie about my weight. Before getting my epidural with Joel, the doctor asked me how much I weighed. I said, "1XX pounds." Brian said, "Are you really willing to risk dying?" I said, "Can I get back with you on that?" The doctor then said, "I will go check her chart."</div><div>9. I love the Weather Channel. I find it soothing and comforting.</div><div>10. I run bath water when I am worried. I don't take a bath then</div><div>. . . I just run the water.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-61749852979128891772011-02-25T09:09:00.000-08:002011-02-25T09:43:05.091-08:00Lucy, You Got Some Splainin' to Do!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfVY119-fbQjmD7ulsmIgriKNeS1KJe05k7erRl3E0bfO8DJwsOntbZzz5C1u53DC6H6UDFAv1kL4Q3b6RWpf6iqAZ1yWoZLK2DbnXyd_MdOOMogLdWD5gQJWgQf0JE5Gz3TAhiolHWM/s1600/jadite+dishes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfVY119-fbQjmD7ulsmIgriKNeS1KJe05k7erRl3E0bfO8DJwsOntbZzz5C1u53DC6H6UDFAv1kL4Q3b6RWpf6iqAZ1yWoZLK2DbnXyd_MdOOMogLdWD5gQJWgQf0JE5Gz3TAhiolHWM/s400/jadite+dishes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577680380706733650" /></a><br />I kind of got myself in between a rock and a hard place. No real surprise - it has happened before.<div><br /></div><div>Like the time I was the go-between on a business deal Brian had set up . . . A friend of Brian's at work bought Indy 500 tickets from a friend of ours at church. Or was it the other way around? I don't really remember now. The point is . . .</div><div><br /></div><div>I was the one to transfer the money: $350 in cold cash.</div><div><br /></div><div>Trouble is, there was a span of about three days between the day I got the money and the day the money was to be delivered.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can probably guess what happened . . . straight from an <i>I Love Lucy</i> episode. The day of delivery came and I was a little short on cash - $350 short!</div><div><br /></div><div>Fortunately, my situation this time does not involve cash . . . well, not directly.</div><div><br /></div><div>I volunteered to host a table at a fund-raiser. Not just any fund-raiser mind you. The charity hosting the fund-raiser is a big time donor to the oncology center where I work.</div><div><br /></div><div>Translation: job is on the line.</div><div><br /></div><div>It shouldn't be that big of a deal, right? How hard could hosting a table be?</div><div><br /></div><div>I just have to decorate the table . . . eight place settings . . . fine china . . . and silver.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't own any china.</div><div><br /></div><div>My plan when I agreed to host the table (in addition to helping a worthy, charitable cause) was to expand my current jadite collection and decorate the table with that.</div><div><br /></div><div>My current collection, however, consists of the following:</div><div><ul><li>one jadite restaurant ware D-handle coffee cup;</li><li>one 1/4 cup measuring cup; and</li><li>one Jane Ray salad plate.</li></ul></div><div>Not a real big collection. Definitely not service for eight.</div><div><br /></div><div>But because I have a wonderful husband who is used to me getting in tight places, we are now winning the bid on a - </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">93 PIECE COLLECTION OF JANE RAY DISHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Please don't go bid against me - remember my purchase is going toward a charitable cause and will be used for this purpose for many years to come!</div><div><br /></div><div>Keeping my fingers crossed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will worry about the silver later.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-38773311474131056272011-02-23T11:42:00.000-08:002011-02-23T11:45:21.796-08:00People skills . . . I need them<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGB1t1yeEO4Tv6OyH2NEu4X0r5f28NR7G9vDhrYXvLRoHmLIwBW8ko-XIdkYzlkqtq73lBbiDMo5C_P7IasaZBxev9WMUHfqJY9EAeLWxK4z4dLABXzavDu4LTOxMPfnt9mbkeH68NrVk/s1600/IMG_2669.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGB1t1yeEO4Tv6OyH2NEu4X0r5f28NR7G9vDhrYXvLRoHmLIwBW8ko-XIdkYzlkqtq73lBbiDMo5C_P7IasaZBxev9WMUHfqJY9EAeLWxK4z4dLABXzavDu4LTOxMPfnt9mbkeH68NrVk/s400/IMG_2669.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576973212080675234" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I tend to have this effect on people.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-59939967676590707432011-02-23T06:01:00.000-08:002011-02-23T06:43:08.345-08:00Pictures that made me smile . . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9vxAY9gycjsJxA4SjJkcseB8XRPoo5LY5ubjOMVak9mi0So-gEhmfNZ2sGa3X-lV3LbkOIitZFwyeY0yHAr0W3FxRYqk1Uhz-3tfqoxU29z9agQSKrbxH3Ib4ptOn9Md5yHRyoXe27Y/s1600/scan0008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9vxAY9gycjsJxA4SjJkcseB8XRPoo5LY5ubjOMVak9mi0So-gEhmfNZ2sGa3X-lV3LbkOIitZFwyeY0yHAr0W3FxRYqk1Uhz-3tfqoxU29z9agQSKrbxH3Ib4ptOn9Md5yHRyoXe27Y/s400/scan0008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576890927960519282" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Summertime and the livin' was easy.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipinXl5JbkLqqfDnf2C70tGXAoCNmh8YeBLq2czxltcVOoVM9UhyphenhyphenFP1DiPo0fKEbOeVNTDvBtcrqg2H_we-gb8Z5woWExJ_Ex26P45JSbaUC_aTRqO0IUjFKbbljOCYYHCZOXD6AEbnU4/s1600/scan0006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipinXl5JbkLqqfDnf2C70tGXAoCNmh8YeBLq2czxltcVOoVM9UhyphenhyphenFP1DiPo0fKEbOeVNTDvBtcrqg2H_we-gb8Z5woWExJ_Ex26P45JSbaUC_aTRqO0IUjFKbbljOCYYHCZOXD6AEbnU4/s400/scan0006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576890576236811282" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">You would think the <i>toilet man</i> would have given us</div><div style="text-align: center;">a break on the new septic system with all the help he had.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-mNoXjC44mGhMCb6xHYEmm-YMe4QWACX_lYDF9UVUsFn3qMt2uMahH74nYU3Rw2MquCBFeya94eZB4Q74d_THqu9rDm8JnThtZY1xtZtO7PSXaVBYucML-f8Owfx_yMM1UNGakP3r-8A/s1600/scan0005.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-mNoXjC44mGhMCb6xHYEmm-YMe4QWACX_lYDF9UVUsFn3qMt2uMahH74nYU3Rw2MquCBFeya94eZB4Q74d_THqu9rDm8JnThtZY1xtZtO7PSXaVBYucML-f8Owfx_yMM1UNGakP3r-8A/s400/scan0005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576890001044983490" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Miss Personality Plus</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSqHUNXc7Wp70VE6hj2FamAjz71i45EBAlaxyUIlydzd5jMKL4Ovy5dtKKKn0f7NTawuY2VLhDlB6sMb5Lnj_J9I0AueBdmV5b2arXAbXRUi5i8rQVmznNyOjrqCMxOe-yONBgkdBo0w/s1600/scan0003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSqHUNXc7Wp70VE6hj2FamAjz71i45EBAlaxyUIlydzd5jMKL4Ovy5dtKKKn0f7NTawuY2VLhDlB6sMb5Lnj_J9I0AueBdmV5b2arXAbXRUi5i8rQVmznNyOjrqCMxOe-yONBgkdBo0w/s400/scan0003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576889867009366882" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Dad with dark hair and a monkey on his back.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGo6g5nYUnhvcb-E9MDDYggL4-ohLc89JBNXcgvbAI9NNFkobS-_gQfkNrmLpVV-LZXEELdKGm6WiRFNLKZwDa5Mscj4qVMGRXYWds1EKkxrD_XNrjq-Pa5VfidnEjOQZgJ28hpTccRI/s1600/IMG_4185.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGo6g5nYUnhvcb-E9MDDYggL4-ohLc89JBNXcgvbAI9NNFkobS-_gQfkNrmLpVV-LZXEELdKGm6WiRFNLKZwDa5Mscj4qVMGRXYWds1EKkxrD_XNrjq-Pa5VfidnEjOQZgJ28hpTccRI/s400/IMG_4185.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576887672448940322" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Levi preparing to live in Russia.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNxXDJPvUCZZA973kSZig7ShcUaNHMapsuYdXG3jQ6HePiehhAAMhXgaEOwVhRR2zR_M99Fw46pBwDTksrtNWh2jHuuv_pt9csKTLfsbjIcI2y4if4tRSIwWJay9mCMwPoiqnPSnlST8/s1600/July+2010+036.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNxXDJPvUCZZA973kSZig7ShcUaNHMapsuYdXG3jQ6HePiehhAAMhXgaEOwVhRR2zR_M99Fw46pBwDTksrtNWh2jHuuv_pt9csKTLfsbjIcI2y4if4tRSIwWJay9mCMwPoiqnPSnlST8/s400/July+2010+036.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576887401851667106" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Gracie - flash forward a dozen years and this won't be funny!</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUg69eOhJBTQesqTgyO2jRqlF3wtH_qAOS5vefVtN18HW5fR0Mhga2btp0N-AOR_xa31AdIJLuaB5rnpfem62G5reirbBMxrepWP8arOpi4pkMnq1roLJ9VbkPNCjR9XBt7Lo-26xyMk/s1600/Joel+13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUg69eOhJBTQesqTgyO2jRqlF3wtH_qAOS5vefVtN18HW5fR0Mhga2btp0N-AOR_xa31AdIJLuaB5rnpfem62G5reirbBMxrepWP8arOpi4pkMnq1roLJ9VbkPNCjR9XBt7Lo-26xyMk/s400/Joel+13.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576886398612873458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Scooby and Joel before the growth serum.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div><br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-86090328580774892122011-02-22T11:38:00.000-08:002011-02-22T11:53:04.914-08:00Meet Megan's boys . . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqKLW1iwLBCrueB0KprzGrgP5TEs0GPXKsUkGb8SyPhnPVa7-j3GHbAcpfabootlem0qkZ3m-pQeuQw-4b0Oiijt0pREECB7U6aEgdI11kzeQZd6vajt4VjqVemqwW7UeNpzZIrVwBns/s1600/scan0018.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqKLW1iwLBCrueB0KprzGrgP5TEs0GPXKsUkGb8SyPhnPVa7-j3GHbAcpfabootlem0qkZ3m-pQeuQw-4b0Oiijt0pREECB7U6aEgdI11kzeQZd6vajt4VjqVemqwW7UeNpzZIrVwBns/s400/scan0018.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576601170154941682" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Joel</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewqvsNm9qHGqMaz2iSLIaZdXk_uMsMFCUMFFVy2Iqg9_Zefa4rkfuFGpYHyrDsDc5KgDYnTQkkRmETdOXp6V3B21O3iEFMExYhwjR_4iWNdDqebSQu41GC7YpFl-w_pPGutwJY4MR5b4/s1600/scan0019.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewqvsNm9qHGqMaz2iSLIaZdXk_uMsMFCUMFFVy2Iqg9_Zefa4rkfuFGpYHyrDsDc5KgDYnTQkkRmETdOXp6V3B21O3iEFMExYhwjR_4iWNdDqebSQu41GC7YpFl-w_pPGutwJY4MR5b4/s400/scan0019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576601164910746882" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Levi</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaohJEBGQ7vp_k5X5AKaydjKlKkTRFxDluNizX6gilFcBC-0HEi8aViwFKxUe0zNiZN8k8ilhXb108_3uLA5rnubPANXRODPeOVpPQ7FRGhhOQGWPU8Akf31DPbfvQIOTh8JbboFI3cT4/s1600/scan0020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaohJEBGQ7vp_k5X5AKaydjKlKkTRFxDluNizX6gilFcBC-0HEi8aViwFKxUe0zNiZN8k8ilhXb108_3uLA5rnubPANXRODPeOVpPQ7FRGhhOQGWPU8Akf31DPbfvQIOTh8JbboFI3cT4/s400/scan0020.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576601159232374402" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Joel (again)</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqnYHenNrAUN0WHpq2GKjYaiC6fX2C5Wrt1Qu9_JYqsPm-J-UcL6euHfr1iqWbXqO8h_GsGenUXtVswh5Lj5XnoidBCANIV2oRogZO4MHH8p8SQSGOsvJwBhOqgqZQt4QnefgABvym94/s1600/scan0021.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqnYHenNrAUN0WHpq2GKjYaiC6fX2C5Wrt1Qu9_JYqsPm-J-UcL6euHfr1iqWbXqO8h_GsGenUXtVswh5Lj5XnoidBCANIV2oRogZO4MHH8p8SQSGOsvJwBhOqgqZQt4QnefgABvym94/s400/scan0021.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576601159789927154" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">and now Adam!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-68523946146072505312011-02-19T08:03:00.000-08:002011-02-19T08:32:02.072-08:00My Psalm<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1DfV7jtzuLD8S6TyuHBih_KM6r9kEgy0-y9LTmxjco7x8IbwH674hsj2JwamiSu7DhgJ4GLJep08I4VbBZAqwI6IS1Ghds9iB8f6_b8fn8COAktECVWzVSwfk2vF2vNrmJHuxl-wo1b8/s1600/scan0016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1DfV7jtzuLD8S6TyuHBih_KM6r9kEgy0-y9LTmxjco7x8IbwH674hsj2JwamiSu7DhgJ4GLJep08I4VbBZAqwI6IS1Ghds9iB8f6_b8fn8COAktECVWzVSwfk2vF2vNrmJHuxl-wo1b8/s400/scan0016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575436455380214546" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Crazy how fast life changes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Slowing down and enjoying the season we are in is hard. Microwaves, cell phones, high speed internet . . . we live fast paced.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Dangerous ground, especially for Believers.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Rarely are we quiet.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Rarely do we take time to meditate . . . to digest . . . God's Word.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This is something I am trying to change in my life. Studying some of the Psalms and doing my best to meditate on them and digest them has resulted in a Psalm of my own.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Broaden my vision, Lord. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Enlarge me in my distress.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Give me peace - shalom. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Let me sleep knowing that You neither slumber nor sleep.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You are God who sits in high places. </div><div style="text-align: center;">You are in control; let me remember that.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lord, work things together for good.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Heal brokenness . . . soften hearts.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quiet evil doers. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Be the Balm of Gilead to those in need.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Convict where there is sin. Change the heart of the hard.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Comfort the hurting. Silence the gossips.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Restore fellowship where it is broken. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Break the teeth of the liars.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Strengthen the faith of the weak - even mine. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Give encouragement to me in my need.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Show yourself mighty and strong and let my eyes be open to see it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for your protection and your watch care over us.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for being outside of time and circumstances.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for being holy and pure, righteous and just.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for your perfect love.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Help me trust you in all things - even with my children.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for them. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Keep their hearts right. Let them serve you.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Guide them in all they do.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Keep them pure. Guard their hearts.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Forgive me for doubting you - for doubting your love for me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Forgive me for my hardness and callousness against you.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for loving me despite my unfaithfulness;</div><div style="text-align: center;">despite my idolatry and worship of myself and what I desire.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You have blessed me even though I am unworthy of blessings.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You have loved me despite the fact that I am unlovable. </div><div style="text-align: center;">You have saved me even though I deserve Hell.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lord, let me walk in truth.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Like you, let there be no darkness in me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Grow me, sanctify me, purify me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Refine me - pour off the dross.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let me be more like You.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let my life bear fruit.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let me live for You all the days of my life.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-36557405383102408732011-02-15T13:26:00.000-08:002011-02-16T13:19:00.344-08:00Flying Then and Now<div>Joel is getting ready to fly out to New Hampshire to see his beloved Amanda. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ah, spring is near and love is in the air!</div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of in the air, I love to fly! Brian and I flew to Florida on our honeymoon - my goodness, a lot has changed since then!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjyPLhd_UHtqqSd3U38elUHNchm0v9QFTftNGPvXteaP2YTgdGla6LxGa8tcuTZVYpTgYfXQcBMIebP70-aeyR_zijNS75FUU1lBBLd2jGj1eV_WOwBB5zMNgk0cvriKcV0QgIcPTvMo/s1600/scan0012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjyPLhd_UHtqqSd3U38elUHNchm0v9QFTftNGPvXteaP2YTgdGla6LxGa8tcuTZVYpTgYfXQcBMIebP70-aeyR_zijNS75FUU1lBBLd2jGj1eV_WOwBB5zMNgk0cvriKcV0QgIcPTvMo/s400/scan0012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574031570673462306" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Brian liked to wear his shorts really short back in 1987!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigYFOY6VxVfV65pjBvi0yhnRuSxAj3Cw47wH1Oq3ySl1PPUvySQ5L_B83o6eHR-lASO0f3k_1cHrZUjDDPD1V4AezJA6z-PxIhLO0p6wV50DL-Pr-iTTUu0LL_DLGAl7dyxc85XdSVulg/s1600/scan0011.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigYFOY6VxVfV65pjBvi0yhnRuSxAj3Cw47wH1Oq3ySl1PPUvySQ5L_B83o6eHR-lASO0f3k_1cHrZUjDDPD1V4AezJA6z-PxIhLO0p6wV50DL-Pr-iTTUu0LL_DLGAl7dyxc85XdSVulg/s400/scan0011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574031565831985682" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Pre-9/11 families could wait at the terminal</div><div style="text-align: center;">with you to see you off! </div></div><div style="text-align: center;">My brother, Danny, who was little enough</div><div style="text-align: center;">to sit on my mom's lap is 30 now!</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I sit on Brian's lap now he closes his eyes</div><div style="text-align: center;">because of the pain and not because my hair is in his eyes!</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECmyKc4BSan9k37AwVLpygJqjZ4vIA7zDxa59_OzykwpLqAYcTDO6s2zGuFaC3xk11IE91H8mA0IQsfIBPB5hyBcHlPD6sMxwZzU__TrxPuPpVOeggjJ2IzjDDiLGD96fMe7OsAuXKPY/s1600/scan0010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECmyKc4BSan9k37AwVLpygJqjZ4vIA7zDxa59_OzykwpLqAYcTDO6s2zGuFaC3xk11IE91H8mA0IQsfIBPB5hyBcHlPD6sMxwZzU__TrxPuPpVOeggjJ2IzjDDiLGD96fMe7OsAuXKPY/s400/scan0010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574031558661756194" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">See the sweet look on my mom' s face?</div><div style="text-align: center;">She is is thinking, "Oh, look my little girl is all grown up</div><div style="text-align: center;">and married now."</div><div style="text-align: center;">Now I am the one with that look on my face!</div><div style="text-align: center;">*NOTE: Just a little side note here, but what I wouldn't give</div><div style="text-align: center;">to have those arms back! I would NEVER wear long</div><div style="text-align: center;">sleeves again!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWRoYi3tzZsg2RhdHBBTpbtfIvYSjnZqcGvWcsQME5abffRcdnIXiBDH_8FHKhQf1rD_gxvysej2qWDF3X-KgcLAMurpDVQ4lMZjvJeIigtmyF1wl7R0CKiylYsX2esC5NhkN9MuMJPHk/s1600/scan0009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWRoYi3tzZsg2RhdHBBTpbtfIvYSjnZqcGvWcsQME5abffRcdnIXiBDH_8FHKhQf1rD_gxvysej2qWDF3X-KgcLAMurpDVQ4lMZjvJeIigtmyF1wl7R0CKiylYsX2esC5NhkN9MuMJPHk/s400/scan0009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574031552812236834" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Ah, to be young and innocent again</div><div style="text-align: center;">with two paid tickets to Florida!</div><br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-65606987461102791452011-02-14T13:08:00.000-08:002011-02-15T13:26:10.029-08:00My Valentine<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMI6R1vE6PmEhzjoJKMjtvMkN-ctS-P06vroJ2Jey_cTpKzU0JPSrwV6Q7rJ6Tdzev7uSv-VL1mGL3zi16QitmNab5Uo9N1LC0D2eZxAsSCi8hSXMd1LMonnjXmrD1WEznYiB-LW5ea2g/s400/scan0013.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574027542514257682" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMYrT2HC2MpGJWrnNGeWmKhhvbpUdhRgwzaKTuMRhTEjd3Fq-KNMAGttGZEq6YsMUfPOjTwmOp5Xt4DyT4blFlv_bMGYJpvbu_F39U3UFmbcR2ijFwwiGrzV6nml1hJg9U3VDP3uuhus/s1600/scan0015.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMYrT2HC2MpGJWrnNGeWmKhhvbpUdhRgwzaKTuMRhTEjd3Fq-KNMAGttGZEq6YsMUfPOjTwmOp5Xt4DyT4blFlv_bMGYJpvbu_F39U3UFmbcR2ijFwwiGrzV6nml1hJg9U3VDP3uuhus/s400/scan0015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574027773876848850" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Some of Brian's senior pictures.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I am thinking these were taken late summer 1983 -</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>right after I turned 14 and he turned 18!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Scandalous!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Valentine's Day, Brian . . .</div><div style="text-align: center;">we should get matching shirts again!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*I love how Blogger lets me back date a post</div><div style="text-align: center;">making it look like I am never late.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The electric company could really take some</div><div style="text-align: center;">customer service tips from them!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-31217370562751679122011-02-05T10:26:00.001-08:002011-02-07T09:05:05.148-08:00Thankful<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Saturday, February 5, 2011</div><div><br /></div><div>9:35 am: Levi leaves for work.</div><div><br /></div>9:40 am: Brian prays over our breakfast:"<i>Lord, thank you for this food. Protect Levi as he is on his way to work. Be with Megan and Adam today. Be with Elaine and Joel and me as we are at home.</i>"<div><br /><div>9:40 am: Unbeknownst to us, Levi is spinning out of control less than 3 miles from home.</div><div><br /></div><div>9:42 am: Levi walks away unharmed from this - </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQaPyDioNytMyNDRhFwmF7rnFxr7j0gdfzJsurecv7EDs3aMp9pZYQ1TkhSI1wopOCqpkqBBiBrBYAvDHPJJpoJpr6mSwrPtG1tgcdbxaOCHYSeNrVaHftoZRknjwefO-r1gzKKNn-_o/s400/downsized_0205110950a.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570993839619558866" /></div><div><br /></div><div>9:44 am: my phone rings</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: <i>Hello.</i></div><div>Levi: <i>Mom, I need to talk to Dad.</i></div><div>Dad: <i>Hello</i>.</div><div>Levi: <i>I am really sorry Dad, but I just flipped the Jeep</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>So very grateful for God's very obvious hand of protection.</div><div><br /></div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-80612839825178976002011-02-04T13:08:00.000-08:002011-02-04T13:12:56.005-08:00Another snow day?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg29VrU3vMN4vZaaDjG1OuduXdAXvTAuGVDvai_TPDDh9I4-VEBgRg6B2zUvW1c33Ia78lnBaOAWVYE7hbAKvbEdvbK-_Qp9IRhmxBIcRIe66IkzcTfcAYYt90BwlMKGivTS56X77Hgj64/s1600/scan0008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg29VrU3vMN4vZaaDjG1OuduXdAXvTAuGVDvai_TPDDh9I4-VEBgRg6B2zUvW1c33Ia78lnBaOAWVYE7hbAKvbEdvbK-_Qp9IRhmxBIcRIe66IkzcTfcAYYt90BwlMKGivTS56X77Hgj64/s400/scan0008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569945069177066178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>When we were home schooling, sometimes the kids would give me grief about having to do school work when the local schools were having a snow day. That is when I came up with the following rhyme:<div><br /></div><div>January - school.</div><div>June - the pool!</div><div><br /></div><div>I think come June, Joel is going to wish he was still home schooled!</div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-85614205680706106312011-02-01T15:58:00.000-08:002011-02-01T16:00:01.678-08:00He's Back!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiil8FHImiwlvvwLdgHHCRx_pGxJfjuU7i3Q2QPZQS3Jq02Nho0qgx6z693YqYb1pFKwghOh2aaVhjTFFbyqg38rIfwbHTm2wbHt1X0QF2sLu8hghXGvokq6qn7Dn26mRIIf8a5slLZY98/s1600/scan0003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiil8FHImiwlvvwLdgHHCRx_pGxJfjuU7i3Q2QPZQS3Jq02Nho0qgx6z693YqYb1pFKwghOh2aaVhjTFFbyqg38rIfwbHTm2wbHt1X0QF2sLu8hghXGvokq6qn7Dn26mRIIf8a5slLZY98/s400/scan0003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568875037746718146" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Happy, healthy Joel is back! Thanks for your prayers!</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-38520899821063892542011-02-01T15:53:00.000-08:002011-02-01T16:00:28.173-08:00Quick! Someone Call 911!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bWyLJjo7t_FwmESErFe9QhJKiEGG7n_TyNg5OU9qq7CP3OD13_KW_ANr_Q1LMDS2Z8S0fdphycefApm1ZrpYWIFFobXaJR2hRQNjGWWztrwA1ER-AExybsVj3gJ6NRZF9EHhkV3YvnU/s1600/scan0005.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bWyLJjo7t_FwmESErFe9QhJKiEGG7n_TyNg5OU9qq7CP3OD13_KW_ANr_Q1LMDS2Z8S0fdphycefApm1ZrpYWIFFobXaJR2hRQNjGWWztrwA1ER-AExybsVj3gJ6NRZF9EHhkV3YvnU/s400/scan0005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568874114707688978" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">What I wouldn't give for a time machine!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJu1jsPZA_YiRbT5XfDnIJ_yS9Ak4ohwDLWjc9xcFccV0qBhf6JdnJPS5t2rTNmFj3-WRN5D0JPsNmOMO4cqzd5EWbNQWv2TwoOk5y3XppxKpL-GjoJ8GCSql7ssZBTO_lGLK36mIajo/s1600/scan0004.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJu1jsPZA_YiRbT5XfDnIJ_yS9Ak4ohwDLWjc9xcFccV0qBhf6JdnJPS5t2rTNmFj3-WRN5D0JPsNmOMO4cqzd5EWbNQWv2TwoOk5y3XppxKpL-GjoJ8GCSql7ssZBTO_lGLK36mIajo/s400/scan0004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568874013292215650" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I would go back to 1995 and stay there forever!!</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-14084699126841112142011-01-28T08:48:00.000-08:002011-01-28T08:58:49.003-08:00How I See Him<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpc1T3tmV4-I4pP_QsDmivbO6ssG3el4ehtKMloRE3Hd2GfTzbZyxQIEZ4ziEOtQtMMRSKszW7iMwpgWVCfsF4v3g3ypNPTIeauMYIOvyfSr1H3o_xrzk-ZX3N1ncdBomYp5V7EbgBfk/s1600/scan0016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpc1T3tmV4-I4pP_QsDmivbO6ssG3el4ehtKMloRE3Hd2GfTzbZyxQIEZ4ziEOtQtMMRSKszW7iMwpgWVCfsF4v3g3ypNPTIeauMYIOvyfSr1H3o_xrzk-ZX3N1ncdBomYp5V7EbgBfk/s400/scan0016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567280491206146754" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Joel has been sick for one week now.</div><div style="text-align: center;">First influenza and now a wicked sinus infection.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Fevers are miserable.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYtAZAUtQHhJhUNHZ-S7hUHB61dkHSWeSEpzrinnhNciqnq3Dp787dJ6U5rY5R7_3dPJTf8-6_17Mhuzvga_Ax3vYcbu4rm_bEPwC-KaiNvr-7qOCamUtuIcG5hr2SNw3kleaJspz4a8/s1600/scan0017.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYtAZAUtQHhJhUNHZ-S7hUHB61dkHSWeSEpzrinnhNciqnq3Dp787dJ6U5rY5R7_3dPJTf8-6_17Mhuzvga_Ax3vYcbu4rm_bEPwC-KaiNvr-7qOCamUtuIcG5hr2SNw3kleaJspz4a8/s400/scan0017.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567280487777264386" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">He has felt absolutely rotten, but he has still gone to school</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - sorry to everyone he has exposed -</div><div style="text-align: center;"> and he has still played basketball.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUeOF4FH1TDnXPdPN20LciNxwKaq1FeWSUe-jSixLGYvfcvmut3LVBmmkjNbhHeACZMJliriUCrigtUUuBbZAcZ5Q6tw-JjSG3XxT-5rmMyHSb__Fv1kgWGuR9QDQV9uuFHSTKiZRfzk/s1600/scan0018.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUeOF4FH1TDnXPdPN20LciNxwKaq1FeWSUe-jSixLGYvfcvmut3LVBmmkjNbhHeACZMJliriUCrigtUUuBbZAcZ5Q6tw-JjSG3XxT-5rmMyHSb__Fv1kgWGuR9QDQV9uuFHSTKiZRfzk/s400/scan0018.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567280485343002258" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">He went to the doctor yesterday -</div><div style="text-align: center;">hopefully the antibiotic will help.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am ready to have my happy Joel back.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Even if he is bigger now.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-46587228943441819642011-01-24T16:08:00.000-08:002011-01-25T07:21:00.057-08:00Do I Feel Warm? Wedding Story #2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOpcJin-AHNOUhgrFZtNRIeKgXE8XS03mNmMVWak43Yw-ti6D2r5azT7eC2cQqVEYcMHUNtHhA_SC4yvotyhnNq9yO8DHRH8Inm01n6_wkGvtg2O0mZW7DyBs6EEHcVeTKRe6xCO1h10g/s1600/scan0015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOpcJin-AHNOUhgrFZtNRIeKgXE8XS03mNmMVWak43Yw-ti6D2r5azT7eC2cQqVEYcMHUNtHhA_SC4yvotyhnNq9yO8DHRH8Inm01n6_wkGvtg2O0mZW7DyBs6EEHcVeTKRe6xCO1h10g/s400/scan0015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566143120789201602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Brian and one day old Megan.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">November 15, 1989</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>There is no question that Megan is a Daddy's girl. . . And there is no question about the fact that Brian is pretty smitten with her as well.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>He always has been.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>When Megan was a newborn, Brian would walk in the door, hold his arms out and say, "Where's my girl?" It only took a couple times of jumping into his arms to realize that he didn't mean me - he meant Megan.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>But that didn't bother me, I would snuggle on the couch beside him and enjoy him holding his girl.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Knowing how special their relationship is, I knew once Brian relinquished to the idea of Megan getting married . . . which did take a while . . . there would be no end to the lengths he would go to in order to give her the wedding of her dreams.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once a theme was established for the reception and details were drawn up, Brian set to work making the necessary items. His work order: Fourteen 8-foot wooden <i>trees</i> on which to string lights. Surely there would be plenty of time to devote to these <i>trees</i> in between work, church, Joel's basketball games and tournaments, Christmas . . .</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Re1AQ7cgdQwfCY1eiyPcWVlSRFP2d8pIM1EwDpPzsZM1yFy6DmvEq78FAfDB0TXaEP64X3R5xt4tke-vaZCGlXjZlvXM8bf8OzXXrGB8mFreH1IOqqhfnaCXwhHIWFKgj_9NTAbj-uU/s400/IMG_2646.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566141629986194562" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>But considering Brian rarely works under favorable conditions (i.e. septic lift pump repair in -30 degree weather, major engine work in the CVS parking lot . . .) this didn't deter him one bit. Thanks to a 1000 candle power flood light bulb perched atop the house, the driveway was transformed into a woodworking center the likes of which Santa could have been proud.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every night after supper Brian would don Levi's FedEx coveralls, flip on his flood light, and head off to the driveway for an evening of wood working. Most often Megan would come in around 11:00 pm after being out with Adam.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Megan: Those look great Dad!</div><div>Brian: Thanks.</div><div>Megan: It's really cold out here.</div><div>Brian: Yes, it is.</div><div>Megan: Have you been out here long?</div><div>Brian: Came out after supper.</div><div>Megan: Well, I'd stay and talk but it's really cold.</div><div>Brian: Yes it is. Good night, Megan.</div><div>Megan: Good night, Dad. Hey, are those Levi's FedEx coveralls?</div><div>Brian: Yep.</div><div>Megan: They are really short on you.</div><div>Brian: Good night, Megan.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqodflfW5Af9OKGmimHXzzuc55wNbiSKHdMo7e8Aq9tHFzSEAHk32pHfpcTGlSF-x6UOtYWvWNG6zCrL6GLrWvad2VW7nLOiD_Xw5uzZJk6ONXjH9YC8xdlqELbi-oZzGAXMxXMZuXic/s400/IMG_2778.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566142433967466994" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>This went on the entire month of December and, faithful Dad that he is, the trees were done in time for the wedding. But there was a pay-off.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Brian was now sick.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, I have given him grief over the years about always being sick on big, important days. A claim that does not go unsubstantiated - </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>March, 1997 - Our move from M-town to the Hills. Brian is on the couch for 3 days straight with a sinus infection and high fever. The boys, aged 3 and 6, single-handedly cleaned out the basement. You think I am kidding? Sadly, I am not. It is quite shocking how much a 3 year old can carry in a push-comes-to-shove situation.</div><div><br /></div><div>May, 2008 - Megan's graduation party. Brian comes down with a case of Giardia - he blames it on the ice from McDonalds. All I know is half-way through the evening and WAY before the clean-up, his stomach bloats to the size of a beach ball and he starts making noises I still have nightmares about.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Now, the day before what is possibly the biggest day yet in our lives, Brian is sick.</div><div><br /></div><div>Brian: Do I feel warm?</div><div>Elaine: I don't care if you are warm. We need to get the reception set up.</div><div>Brian: I am achy all over. And my chest hurts.</div><div>Elaine: Really? You had better take a couple Ibuprofen and pray for healing because we have A LOT of work to do.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I guess I was just doing my impersonation of a Halls Cough Drop - you know, a pep talk in every drop. But still, probably not some of my kinder moments.</div><div><br /></div><div>But it worked. Brian worked non-stop. From early Thursday morning into Thursday evening - stopping only to attend the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Then he resumed his work on Friday morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lights were hung, tables and chairs were moved, decorations were set . . . There was no stopping him. He was running on pure adrenalin and love for Megan.</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday evening came and went. His little girl was given away . . . and his adrenalin with her.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqMMbES4H8bPzU9RgKMqyCxL1z8fElcPWK8Itg7OD7phr02x20_IUqq_bUUdZJAvM27YJ43o7vV54uy6NgJqyqvprbaRZsKMygJI0E6Z4iei5l9Xcl4UmDjI3tWzUXq5X6iaxZFAPOm4/s400/Broke+Brian.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566141148101113922" /></div><div><br /></div><div>We sat exhausted in chairs while friends and family whisked away table cloths, dirty plates and cups, and organized table decorations into neat piles.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Saturday morning we returned to the church with the daunting task of un-transforming the fairytale hall back into a gym. I laughed and called Brian an old man as he walked hunchbacked and slow across the gym - that would definitely come back to bite me later.</div><div><br /></div><div>Flash forward 10 days and now I am the one with the fever, cough, and body aches. Lying in bed and feeling horrible, I thought of Brian and how miserable he was during the wedding. I thought I had better apologize.</div><div><br /></div><div>Elaine (texting): I am sorry you felt so bad during the wedding and still had to do all of that work. I don't know how you did it.</div><div>Brian: You made me. That helped.</div></div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-72521313113065337562011-01-14T10:34:00.000-08:002011-01-14T12:07:30.493-08:00What's that smell? Wedding Story #1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuFZvDz9AZdeTj9BLp6o2AvASORi_A25IYdrLrr3PONdQ9sORca_u2vG20vSD_je88B92VKG4XjXhrXIFoaCEhIk_gFcDTabQIZLywOiHvds0g5zXyofYj3WYX9rdJrY98JFS-Ezzck0/s1600/beet-juice-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuFZvDz9AZdeTj9BLp6o2AvASORi_A25IYdrLrr3PONdQ9sORca_u2vG20vSD_je88B92VKG4XjXhrXIFoaCEhIk_gFcDTabQIZLywOiHvds0g5zXyofYj3WYX9rdJrY98JFS-Ezzck0/s400/beet-juice-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562135677064478898" /></a><br />As it turned out, the week of the wedding I worked more hours in the clinic than I normally work. Murphy's Law I guess. With all the busyness of last minute preparations and Joel on Christmas break, our vehicle situation was strained to say the least.<div><br /></div><div>Wednesday found me at work vehicle-less, penny-less and lunch-less . . . which, unfortunately, is an all too common occurrence for me. But after hearing Megan had returned from the <i>city</i> and was in town, I quickly requested a double cheeseburger (one of many weaknesses I have) be smuggled into work for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>When she brought it in, I was with a patient but I could hear her sweet Minnie Mouse voice in the nurse's station. I was glad the other nurses at work got to see her and talk with her before her big day because they think she is the cat's meow!</div><div><br /></div><div>Later that afternoon when Megan picked me up from work, I noticed a very distinct smell in the Jeep. Assuming that it was left-over McDonald's causing the smell, I asked if she had eaten in the car. She replied that she had. Although this smell wasn't typical for McDonald's, I let the matter go.</div><div><br /></div><div>When the two of us walked in the house, I noticed that Megan had a nice glow about her. Knowing that she had gone to the tanning bed a couple of times recently, I mentioned that she was really starting to look tan. She smiled politely and thanked me for the compliment.</div><div><br /></div><div>When she took her coat off and hung it up, I again caught a whiff of the smell I had noticed in the Jeep. No, definitely not McDonalds. This was a pungent, earthy smell.</div><div><br /></div><div>I walked over and grabbed her coat and put it to my nose . . . I then walked over to her and put her to my nose. "It is you!" I said. "What is wrong with you and why do you smell like compost!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I got a spray tan today. Doesn't it look good?" she replied. "Don't worry, Mom, I know you don't like chemicals. I went to a place that's all natural. The spray is made from a mixture of beet juice and walnuts!"</div><div><br /></div><div>All I could think of was that in less than 48 hours my daughter who had just been sprayed with two of the most stain-producing items on the planet was going to squeeze herself into an ALL WHITE dress, have hundreds of pictures taken of her, and stand before over 200 of our closest friends and family . . . </div><div><br /></div><div>and she smelled like the bottom of the potato bin!</div><div><br /></div><div>Why should I worry?!?</div><div><br /></div><div>I know the wedding is all about the bride and not about the mother-of-the-bride, but at this point in the game my nerves are about shot. We had weathered bridesmaid dresses not fitting, hairstyles not working . . . </div><div><br /></div><div>"Are you just trying to add stress to our lives, Megan!" was my response. But considering she had already been sprayed, there was not much else to say.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went about our evening getting ready for church. I noticed, however, that each time we passed in the house, she looked a little different.</div><div><br /></div><div>She smelled the same, unfortunately, but looked different. She was darker . . . with each passing minute she was getting darker!</div><div><br /></div><div>After trying to explain that the spray tan consists of a color coat followed by a clear coat that wears off over a few hours revealing the color coat that darkens over time . . . It became clear to me - </div><div><br /></div><div>We have no idea what color Megan will be for the wedding!</div><div><br /></div><div>My immediate suggestion was that she shower repeatedly - with her Dad's Lava soap. Megan reassured me that by picking a spray made of beets and walnuts rather than carrots and pumpkin she would have a more bronze look and would NOT end up looking orange.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess the trade-off was she could have smelled like pie instead of compost.</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, the spray tan worked well. It did not rub off on her dress. She did not end up looking orange, and the smell went away the next day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I will get one.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-79768165737149621592011-01-11T07:22:00.001-08:002011-01-11T07:28:13.923-08:00New Friends<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRM_7U-yZZnNxwfGvarJs6d9ljT8OPKyby2iYr9yfd1ngvOCqcVaCCiNMmqBkkzg8brTf_rGJU4nBtD4f5NcKsJsAuUB_DiQDi6N5xhEmV51X4dPE8UedKqS2KNrhrvjZ9Seeydqz9jA/s1600/misty+and+scooby.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRM_7U-yZZnNxwfGvarJs6d9ljT8OPKyby2iYr9yfd1ngvOCqcVaCCiNMmqBkkzg8brTf_rGJU4nBtD4f5NcKsJsAuUB_DiQDi6N5xhEmV51X4dPE8UedKqS2KNrhrvjZ9Seeydqz9jA/s400/misty+and+scooby.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560949549260239634" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Scooby and Misty</div><div style="text-align: center;">Misty missing her girl.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Scooby being a good friend.</div><div style="text-align: center;">*Note: This picture WAS NOT staged.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-31615250013489634402011-01-09T11:49:00.000-08:002011-01-09T12:42:07.610-08:00Me and My Boys<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiWBxAd9pXZA11vlKpkXtWOTlm-qSbFwBcigps4PC8DKH1CQVGfoDbMvlzeBs00qUuqxEP6LtGeXk6c90x2HOTOi2DXMSwYb2MteIhSEZEbdGOV3HsiaXGhTQNpKf-D_v9Vys3MfmOO4/s1600/scan0014.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiWBxAd9pXZA11vlKpkXtWOTlm-qSbFwBcigps4PC8DKH1CQVGfoDbMvlzeBs00qUuqxEP6LtGeXk6c90x2HOTOi2DXMSwYb2MteIhSEZEbdGOV3HsiaXGhTQNpKf-D_v9Vys3MfmOO4/s400/scan0014.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560281712720738290" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Levi - Me - Joel</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A candid shot of the boys and me at the reception.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The boys were a HUGE help getting ready for the wedding and reception. Having gone to school at TCM and having helped with numerous school programs, plays, events . . . they know the school/church like the back of their hand.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The boys did everything from setting up the scaffolding, hanging the ornaments from the gym ceiling, setting up the tables and chairs (after first finding all of the chairs), hanging lights, finding all of the plug-ins . . .</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Their help was essential.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While Joel did the bigger more visible things, Levi was meticulously working behind the scenes with all of the unseen things - like taping all of the extension cords to the floor and being sure all of Megan's things got put in Adam's car. The jobs they chose to do were so typical of their personalities.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Both worked tirelessly and without complaint - all out of love for their sister.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love my handsome boys, the love they have for Megan, and their servant's heart.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-73350872690691061902011-01-07T11:48:00.000-08:002011-01-09T12:40:26.753-08:00Wedding Day!!!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXh2i4TMs2o7H1QhxlzNhDaUJdGN67LH9Uye8WoTZSPjCCeECv11GD93s_ymrbOKdYbA2rWMWywq5IimGMMKtVOg1jxnxQxxbvPVrC2J5rT1P8n07v6Xlj3WE_pBnomLeqv5fdQDC6130/s400/Wedding1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560287568767458802" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW1DRayebKh92IakEXf1XKxe7OCsJl9NzevaBB4BT7QJX__CoB-0okZCEPBO1DjejpYI8NElF9cYvv0pKssJgHYIsmWk8il5mbmc-kK_eufNhmRELwhabfkIB1tv0yBrD2syhVmTz998/s400/Wedding2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560288457905005330" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Megan and Adam</div><div style="text-align: center;">January 7, 2011</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So many stories to tell . . .</div><div style="text-align: center;">so many blessings to count . . .</div><div style="text-align: center;">so many answered prayers to share . . .</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I look forward to telling them all!</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262882087490257230.post-59233190472732075402011-01-02T14:11:00.000-08:002011-01-02T14:49:52.056-08:00Still Mom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1vQH44pAHbtPsHCu2Zm_uz5RY-64VjN0fGmEv5ESr1GXcscQOmFC0k9OJX_9UHJlbzUey4TP2_IwrxaWcYKZuyzJv9xsQdgGASOsdvqTtyjIFOHRX-M-aaPiNymHyPUMAx3sG3vJZ80/s1600/IMG_4518.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1vQH44pAHbtPsHCu2Zm_uz5RY-64VjN0fGmEv5ESr1GXcscQOmFC0k9OJX_9UHJlbzUey4TP2_IwrxaWcYKZuyzJv9xsQdgGASOsdvqTtyjIFOHRX-M-aaPiNymHyPUMAx3sG3vJZ80/s400/IMG_4518.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557717230804579938" /></a><br /><div>My emotions are raw right now . . . tears are never far away. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is actually silly to be sad, however, because this is what we set out to accomplish.</div><div><br /></div><div>Megan has grown from a small 6 lb. 12 oz. infant girl who was dependent on us for everything into a beautiful, mature, fine Christian lady who is ready and capable to care for herself and her husband.</div><div><br /></div><div>But as a mom, it is hard to let go. It is hard to be done with a job you have worked so hard at doing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I heard that Da Vinci loved the <i>Mona Lisa</i> so much that he tarried in finishing painting it for 15 years. And that after it was finally finished, he carried it with him wherever he went and never sold it. </div><div><br /></div><div>The selfish side of me would like to do that with Megan - to keep her at home with me longer. </div><div><br /></div><div>But truth is - I love her too much to do that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love - love. I love being a wife and a mother - and I am looking forward Megan experiencing this and to experiencing the newness of it again through her.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are so many firsts ahead of her . . . so many exciting days ahead.</div><div><br /></div><div>In reality I know that even though she is now grown, I will always be her mother - and she will always need me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I still need my mother - so I know this is true.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am looking forward to the phone calls asking me:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>How long do you bake your meatloaf?</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What medicine should I give Adam for his cold?</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>How do you get cat puke out of the carpet?</div><div><br /></div><div>It is nice to always be needed.</div><div><br /></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572822609052154172noreply@blogger.com0