tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35629263907066056622024-02-01T20:08:36.616-07:00As You WishLet me 'splain... No there is too much... Let me sum upValeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.comBlogger279125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-42207201600756617012012-01-01T15:57:00.001-07:002012-01-01T15:57:34.327-07:00New Year, New Blog<p align="center">I guess I’m not the kind of person that can keep the same blog address for very long. I have been here on ‘As You Wish’ for 3 years. </p> <p align="center">I wrote my <a href="http://chellianne.blogspot.com/2008/12/greeting-florinians.html" target="_blank">first post</a> on Dec. 30, 2008<br>where I introduced our family using names from our favorite movie,<br><em>The Princess Bride.<br><br></em>I began ‘As You Wish’ in an effort to protect my family’s privacy by using pretend names.<br>The blogs I had written on before used our whole names and I didn’t feel safe <br>using them anymore.</p> <p align="center">Yes, you noticed that I used the word “blogs” in plural form.<br>I’ve lost count of how many blogs I have written / been in charge of.<br>I started out using Microsoft Blog format @live.com<br>but was persuaded by a friend to come to the more user friendly Blogger.<br><br>I enjoyed Blogger so much that not only did I record my family’s activities and my own personal thoughts on a semi-regular basis, but I also started something like a gazillion other blogs:</p> <p align="center">* My Cloud Blog<br>* A blog all about Yellowstone Park<br>* I have a blog dedicated to our hopes and dreams to adopt a child <br>* At one time we had a blog for my siblings/parents/family <br>* We even had a blog for a family reunion my sister and I were planning!<br>* I am also in charge of the blog for our local theatre group </p> <p align="center">Even though I don’t write on here as often as I should, I obviously LOVE to blog.</p> <p align="center">And now I feel very strongly compelled to close down this blog and begin anew.</p> <p align="center">Without going into too many details,<br>I have decided that changing my blog address is necessary.<br>Max’s split with his former employer has left us with an extremely bitter taste in<br>our mouth. We work daily on forgiving, but that doesn’t change the fact<br>that there are people over there that have this blog address.<br>Frankly, I don’t want them to know about our life.<br>Yes, I could ‘go private’ and I’ve thought about that, but having a private blog<br>is not right for me… at this time.</p> <p align="center">So, I will be creating a new blog,<br>a new profile,<br>and using new names.<br><br>I hope to have the new blog up and running within the month.<br>(I’m in charge of food for another wedding reception this week, so I will have my head in an oven and my brain wrapped around my measuring cups for the next several days!)</p> <p align="center">If you would like to follow me to my new address, please leave me your email address and I’ll be sure to send you the link when I’ve got it up and running.</p> <p align="center">Thanks for your patience! </p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-29292726288781115292011-12-21T10:23:00.001-07:002011-12-21T10:37:02.211-07:00A Little Christmas Cheer<p align="center">In honor of Christmas landing on a Sunday this year, I thought I’d post <br>our family Christmas picture from 2005, the last time Christmas was <br>on Sunday.</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29Y8ZRwu_kd6kwtdlmbwLO4D5ozfBU8JN7H0j_84tP6V9TdoT2Zkxhs5Q4wo2V4vyM7DgVLliqSALSZEYUuLQAwMukQrFDL9dJdLf3rIFmtLEDblFRlsjhBqhntd8qN4C7QSrQ4BIvvgk/s1600-h/100_1930%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="100_1930" border="0" alt="100_1930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5he9gR8UidpaAYcAA1bllh2vwtTB2aqwLgA52RhKESnaMYdFv6a47HRRXWQVgxn0sdjmfVB605m6nJVohQUqHgE8nVcOcnJUH9bLkOzVaRUmaoN2IyYgsaipm2HC6k0bIXc7MAKVOrya/?imgmax=800" width="604" height="454"></a></p> <p align="center">Isn’t that hilarious?</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">This is one of our FAVORITE Christmas pictures of all time</font>.</p> <p align="center">Buttercup was 13….<br>Need I say more?<br>You don’t need <font size="5">Captain Obvious</font> to point out how excited she was to take a family picture that morning.</p> <p align="center">We went to church (we had the 1:00 time slot I believe)<br>and afterward we came home and got this shot.<br><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgT_zb2F9M25hcYa4END-q30fYiS8ZMKARfU5DikiHC_u1TBkNJBvAaPiUR2YsUdWu0_4-iAFgjTqxyAW1eGgD8rff4r9su-L0htJP78oD143wPvNBJjPNXLo4pkGKihl9EeK2homPn9Jh/s1600-h/100_1934%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="100_1934" border="0" alt="100_1934" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDBjE5iGUtqTYKZTrCmv9wK2B8bWu2v7MHUkrQIvHDIIKMkeFgvPMh8E1omvHSHm7_nU_ms0Y4t_zcrYAR0jzjjzfUEt0t_OeZNdFu3B_LB5Edg58ZoPLHamnbj04lt5CapJe21egof4MU/?imgmax=800" width="579" height="435"></a><br><br>Sure, it’s a prettier picture<br>but Buttercup and I love the first picture <font size="5">more</font><br>and we <font size="5">laugh</font> about it every time we think about it or look at it.</p> <p align="center">Why?</p> <p align="center">We laugh at how silly it is. <br>How such a simple thing like taking a family picture can blow up into something huge.<br>And how we still loved each other even though we were mad and frustrated.<br><br>It’s a reminder of family bonds.<br>Of <font color="#ff0000" size="6">compromise</font>.<br>Of <em><font color="#00ff00" size="5">forgiveness</font></em>.<br>Of remembering that families are forever, even though they’re not always perfect.<br>(I’ve never met a perfect family, have you?)<br><br>And most importantly, <br><font size="6"><font color="#ff0000">It’s a reminder that we love each other</font>.</font></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-21218549020740774492011-12-14T19:29:00.001-07:002011-12-14T19:33:58.824-07:00Boom Juice!<p align="center">Inigo and his best friend Bullseye were playing Wii Sports today and yelled something that sounded (to me) like, “BOOM JUICE!” </p> <p align="center">I said, “Boom juice? What’s that?”</p> <p align="center">Inigo said, “I didn’t say ‘Boom Juice’, but Bullseye, that sounds delicious! Do you want to go make some?”</p> <p align="center">The two boys are extremely creative, to say the least. Do you remember this:</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__m-EPZEF58j_W43DeF9-QCO831VzQ2lNTFySNJgsZyFgQ8mHs2qFpxfZrVw10_FaAu58G11-UNyxA_4VqUcfLt_yq0bVdlVNNTUe25Ya350SPvBbsGPiti1C3-3dDQHfZiCI2BolsUZI/s1600-h/DSC_0865%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0865" border="0" alt="DSC_0865" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4MXoIsaMav-OfZOQ3pDTbIszPvFgxFpqTdkaS4HwG-CN0iaZDsCRWqYX1U1iYHF6EVVcH2hp2V5kzeSDyvRT_l2rv-4Ad9fn_w23FFqVrkPEMRtpiJpiCftzfgFFMuFvg1pJyfPcCIaD/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="526"></a></p> <p align="center">The boys got together and made themselves <strong><font size="5">tool belts</font></strong> out of copy paper, paper cups and a few staples. (circa July 2009)</p> <p align="center">The idea was 100% theirs and they had a blast with it. They filled their <strike>cups</strike> tool pockets with sticks and pine cones and rocks and anything else that can be imagined into weapons or… come to think of it …<font size="5"> light sabers</font> because Luke Skywalker and Han Solo were their heroes at the time.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDzBT7IlqooWe-cP71VkPQINhZB9h03CeTdmoAojAv8blY_DQvIcThYjiwGyO87xTnqo7FryqdagvXsAjPTRJ43R2QT_froaFDRLuJCE0N67kHN6O5cjDWMWgrARCm1-LBHHBKzl2pGua/s1600-h/DSC_0867%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0867" border="0" alt="DSC_0867" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCYrchgvpd4YQOelQmsHuh01tbhR1oqFS7rqp4ykIj5LFpuOko-YXP1IPL-xh4YuSrORbWC2p7_1Qoy4psiGfx5zcuDFijRbd6RRDH67N9JKZ9mMCUeVYy7ZM8mk7InaUKoTvmp5JMx1e/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="272"></a></p> <p align="center">These boys are two-peas-in-a-pod. Everyone needs a best friend like this. They rarely fight. They encourage each other to be their best. <br>They both have their individual strengths and weaknesses and where one boy is lacking in something, the other picks up the slack and either carries his friend or boosts his friend up to do better in that certain area.</p> <p align="center">I was curious what kind of concoction they would come up with.<br>What their vision of<br>”BOOM JUICE”<br>would be…</p> <p align="center">I stayed away from the kitchen while they ‘cooked’. I listened from afar and was extremely curious when they asked me for a lemon zester and/or juicer. They wanted milk, but settled for some old Diet Coke that has been sitting in the pantry for a year.<br></p> <p align="center">I was offered many sips as they stirred and combined and created. <br>I politely declined each offer.<br>The whoops and hollers as they thought of a new ingredient to throw in was slightly contagious.<br>I started to get excited for them.<br><br>I will admit, I felt pretty cool when Bullseye said,<br><font size="5">”You’re mom is pretty cool to let us do this! My mom would never let us do something like this!”<br></font>Of course I love Bullseye’s mom. She’s my morning walking partner and I know that she probably <em>would</em> let them create in the kitchen.<br><br>But it was a nice compliment anyway.</p> <p align="center">Finally, they talked me into having a sip.<br>It was <em>incredibly </em>sweet, with a touch of zing.<br> But the sweetness…. <br>Oh, the sweetness!!<br>I felt my insulin levels rise considerably and knew a diabetic coma was only minutes away.</p> <p align="center">Surprisingly, it wasn’t too terribly awful.</p> <p align="center">When Bullseye’s dad came to pick him up, he had to have a taste too.<br>Only, he didn’t know what was in the cup when he put it up to his mouth. <br>His eyes opened wide.<br>His mouth puckered.<br>He said, “Oh, I wish I would have known….!”<br>He was a good sport! And laughed after a small gag….</p> <p align="center">Finally, I asked Inigo what was in their magic drink. <br>He told me what the exact recipe is.<br>Now, dear readers, don’t go taking their recipe so you can market it!<br>We’ll let them make their own money off their creations.</p> <p align="center">I give you<br><font size="7">BOOM JUICE!<br></font>by Inigo and Bullseye</p> <ol> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">A drinking cup filled 2/3 full of water</font></div></li> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">Half a scoop of sugar</font></div></li> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">The juice of a whole lemon, minus the seeds</font></div></li> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">A peppermint candy, swirled through the water until all the red lines are gone</font></div></li> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">Add 1/4 of cinnamon <br><em>(Valerie: I don’t know whether it’s 1/4 cup, 1/4 tsp or 1/4 TBSP)</em></font></div></li> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">Add about 2 TBSP of Diet Coke. Milk is another option if your mom lets you.</font></div></li> <li> <div align="center"><font size="4">Stir after each addition.</font></div></li></ol> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoTU4Sdv0O3cbH_DwOW2_edNzcIdI4z5KKi62KWlbFm2icJL3D_EbTnV9yz3B6kWi9Szpm1CyMI_abdCcVjUP2DuAPusjx-vhfUMp80XYqVibLfn-dMHKDDZWig8h7KA2emQBs8KB-0mV/s1600-h/IMG_3669%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVnh-Zii94IlJ3Gbh8EKukb39th_5AKUHgIlCdiLllPjePdoLW1w4yiccInqU-H3d1sOGbZgGTBdNuQhKZbdYSCCiwBbbgtzKo3vuO9ciO9NA5JVoafusC9gd2tSEcFpqjIzx8Ca-COBsL/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="671"></a></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-9063776384723810122011-12-08T22:39:00.001-07:002011-12-08T22:39:01.294-07:00Merry…. Uh…<p>It seems that there is always <em>something</em> going on in our house… some sort of drama, both good and bad:<br><br> * Last summer it was bona fide drama as Inigo and I practiced our singing and dance moves so we could be in our first musical.<br> * Preparing for Buttercup’s wedding and reception.<br> * Trying to find an affordable place to live in New Florin, while Max travels the long road between both places.<br><br>That’s just <em>some</em> of the drama that has happened in the last 6 months.</p> <p align="left">Last Tuesday the worst horrible drama hit our house: <br><br><font size="4"><em><u>Max was asked to resign from his job</u></em>.</font></p> <p>Even though we’re trying to remain positive about the situation, I will admit I get sick to my stomach when I think about it and think about the circumstances leading up to it.</p> <p>You see, Max ended up being the pawn in a political game. Or, you could call him a <font size="5">SCAPEGOAT</font>. Either way, he got the short end of the stick and was unfairly and horribly treated. He is taking the fall for a very BAD MAN - the former CEO of the hospital where he worked- who did some very BAD THINGS. </p> <p>I’m not sure how much detail I can go into here on this blog. I’d love to tell the whole story… names, places, the whole kit-n-kaboodle, but I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time. Believe me, I’m not going into more detail to protect Max’s former employer. They don’t deserve the consideration. But I do it to preserve Max’s integrity. Also, I don’t want to hurt his former co-workers who are <font size="5"><u>NOT</u></font> the bad guys in this situation. They felt terrible that Max took the fall for the <font size="5">incompetent Management Company</font> and Bad Man. (Oh, I wish I could name the management company!)</p> <p>You know, forgiveness is HARD – very hard – when someone has walked up to a person you love and kicked them in the teeth and knocked their feet out from underneath them. This is something that I am going to struggle with for a very long time. I try not to call this company bad names, but every now and again the sailor in me comes out and I find myself calling them “Dirty {Fatherless-Sons-of Mothers}”. I’m so far from being a good person that sometimes I find I can’t control my anger and my resentment toward these people.</p> <p>Max is a <font size="5">GOOD</font> person. He is <font size="5">110%</font> <font size="5">HONEST </font>in everything he does. He is so <font size="5">SMART!</font> He is <font size="5">NICE</font>. He <font size="5">trusts people</font>. He doesn’t play political games and tells you exactly how things are. If you poll his employees, you’ll find that 99% of them respect him, like him and trust him. The remaining 1% are the people that are <em>never</em> happy and <em>never</em> like their job or their employers. Sure, he’s been known to make people mad. He’s the accountant that sometimes has to say no. But you’ll find that these people don’t stay mad for long. Ultimately, he’s able to make them see why he had to say no, or why he had to do what he did is in the best interest of the organization. They may not like the answer, but they understand it. </p> <p>I’ve always wondered what kind of company or corporation fires their employees at Christmas time. Now I know. It’s the most heartless and cruel kind of company. I’ve always felt terrible for the people who have found themselves without a job in the “merriest” time of the year. Now I will forever feel the utmost empathy for them. And I pledge, that if we are blessed enough to have employment next year at this time, that we will do something to help out another family who has found themselves in our situation.</p> <p>Don’t get me wrong. We are not destitute. We will have a Christmas. It will just be scaled down. Actually, it’s a good thing that I can’t Christmas shop anymore. We can focus more on the life of Jesus Christ. We can focus more on family and spending time together. We are getting away from the commercial aspects of the season and thinking more about the spiritual aspects. I look forward to Christmas Day and spending it playing games and spending quality time with my family instead of being bogged down in wrapping paper and ribbon. </p> <p>My family has been super supportive through all of this. I was concerned that we wouldn’t be able to have our traditional Christmas Eve dinner at our house. I’ll be honest, I can’t afford to buy all that food now. But they have offered to step in and bring the food. We may not be able to eat our traditional Prime Rib dinner, but a ham dinner will be just as good. And the entertainment – singing Christmas carols around the piano – is FREE! We’ll have the BEST NIGHT EVER!</p> <p>I don’t tell this story to inspire pity or to make you feel bad for us. I tell it because I need to. Because I need you to know that we’re okay. And we’ll continue to be okay. Because we have each other.</p> <p>I joke around that everyone who was so busy praying that Max would come home and that we wouldn’t have to move to New Florin prayed him right out of a job. Now they need to get busy praying that we’ll find new employment! SO GET BUSY, EVERYONE! Please?</p> <p><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="http://d30opm7hsgivgh.cloudfront.net/upload/420460808_6BiQQhmn_c.jpg"></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-78373961758254347212011-11-22T10:10:00.001-07:002011-11-22T10:23:48.997-07:00A Mouth Full of Chocolate (and mint!)<p>I am posting this today for Mrs. Maddle Faddle Newlywed who is going crazy baking and cooking delicious things for her cute new husband. I have been impressed with her endeavors and her dedication to her culinary education. They are living in the basement apartment of an elderly couple in our ward and she has not been blessed with the best cooking equipment… the oven doesn’t hold a constant temperature and can be off by about 50°. But she’s hanging in there and I predict that by this time next year, she’ll be an expert!</p> <p>She has been requesting the recipe for the Brownie Bites that we served at <a href="http://chellianne.blogspot.com/2011/11/blood-sweat-and-flour_14.html" target="_blank">Buttercup’s wedding reception</a>. And I promised to post the recipes for the treats we served… so without further ado, here it is!</p> <p><u><font size="6">Mint Brownie Bites</font></u></p> <p>As I mentioned in a <a href="http://chellianne.blogspot.com/2011/08/please-sir-may-i-have-smore.html" target="_blank">previous Brownie recipe</a>, I am a brownie snob. I have only found THIS ONE brownie recipe that I like. It’s the right level of chocolate and it’s not too dense. Ugh! I <font size="5">HATE</font> dense brownies! The recipe comes from a <em>Taste of Home</em>: <em>Quick Cooking </em>magazine that I got in the mail several years ago. </p> <p><u>Brownies</u><br>2 C sugar<br>1 3/4 C flour<br>1/2 C baking cocoa <br>1 tsp salt<br>5 eggs<br>1 C vegetable Oil<br>1 tsp vanilla<br><br>In a mixing bowl, combine all the ingredients; beat until smooth. (I just use a wooden spoon. I don’t think you need a hand or stand mixer to make this recipe.) </p> <p>Liberally grease a mini-muffin pan. (I used Olive Oil Pam spray at first, and the brownies did NOT come out! So I switched to regular Pam spray and had no problems after that.) Use a cookie scoop to fill each cup to about 1/2 to 2/3 full.</p> <p>Bake at 350° for about 12 minutes. But -- and here I’m sorry it’s not more precise -- make sure you start checking them after about 9 minutes. My oven took 12 minutes, but my friend who made these last weekend, only needed to bake them for 9. Ovens can be as unique and different as individual people are!</p> <p>When they have finished baking, and you have removed them from oven, take a thin spatula that you use for frosting cakes and run it around the outside of each brownie to loosen it up.</p> <p><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" border="0" src="http://common2.csnimages.com/lf/1/hash/2175/646073/1/PRO Walnut Kitchen Necessities Frosting Spatula.jpg" width="300" height="300"></p> <p>Using this spatula, after the brownies have cooled for about 5 minutes, you can then gently pry them out of the pan and onto a wire rack to finish cooling.</p> <p>Bake the rest of your Brownie mixture. I made sure to spray the pan <u>EACH TIME</u> I filled it. I didn’t want to run the risk of having these babies sticking and getting ruined as I pulled them out of the pan. I needed them to look <font size="5">BEE-YOU-TEE-FULL</font> for the reception!</p> <p>After you’ve finished baking the brownies, you could seriously walk away and be done. They are delicious right now. That’s how good this recipe is!</p> <p>But why would you just walk away? Especially when you can take them to the <font size="5">NEXT LEVEL</font>?</p> <p>Exactly.</p> <p><u>Mint Frosting for Brownies</u><br>2 C powdered sugar<br>1 Tbsp water or milk <br>Food coloring (make whatever color you’d like) <br>1/2 C butter – softened<br>1/2 tsp. mint extract</p> <p>Mix together until creamy. Eezy Peezy, I know!<br><br>I put the frosing into a decorating bag and used a Wilton #12 decorating tip to swirl the icing on top of the cooled brownie. Of course, that’s optional. </p> <p><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="http://www.coppergifts.com/cookie-cutters/pc/catalog/p/1a-decorating-tip-cg2-p5163.jpg" width="150" height="150"></p> <p>Again, I could have stopped there. The brownie was beautiful with just that little swirl of color on top! But, I couldn’t walk away, just yet! There is ONE MORE LEVEL!</p> <p><u>Chocolate Topping</u><br>1 C semi sweet chips <br>6 Tbsp butter.<br><br>Carefully melt in the microwave. I start off by putting it in for 1 minute and then 30 second intervals after that. Stir after each time, making sure you don’t scorch and burn it. <br><br>When it’s completely mixed together you take a little spoon and carefully spread it on top of the frosting. Make sure you leave a little edge of the frosting showing! I think it looks prettier that way!</p> <p>And there you have it! It sounds like it might be a little labor intensive, but it really isn’t. You can knock a batch of these out in just a couple hours and it makes a TON, so you can share it with your friends/neighbors/family/co-workers and still have plenty left at home for you to indulge in. And seriously, they are probably the tastiest thing this side of bacon.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-cBhSXPsT57a8eFPTP5WMxLCgKjV25pqs7qUm6SZCyWVNWw1VLf_XK9AmdceQD1-yXzHvDd6tIeBCR8J_MjkNzWN0mo-vzABNPyyu4Pbgd0y6JHieoNO4H3mTW98CPOTWkaphr_pssvU/s1600-h/DSC_0351%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0351" border="0" alt="DSC_0351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRA2unQJzPU9i4MIJza_kLzRMhHFzPdcg-6iMLCXHoTt_bBm2gJmCDEYFAYcaY-gzR09r-2s3YGTAjte4s6MoxKkquc0l2Ne5c0K9GsbDE0DpMSfkBSyIq6q7xyTUWHHNg7YWOUfSASfvM/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="339"></a></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-72485772536433101192011-11-20T19:12:00.001-07:002011-11-20T21:04:00.577-07:00Ballerina to Grappler<p align="center">For <font size="5">ten years</font>, Buttercup was an only child. She was a princess. She was girlie to the core…</p> <p align="center">She wore dresses every day. If I suggested pants, she would put up a fight and refuse to get dressed.<br>She wore her princess dress-up clothes EVERYWHERE: to the grocery store; to her friends’ houses; to the mall. She also wore her plastic dress-up shoes. You know, the plastic open toed <font size="5">heels</font> that look princess-y and come in a package with a plastic jeweled necklace and tiara?</p> <p align="center">As such, she didn’t play sports.</p> <p align="center">Well, we signed her up for soccer one year. She went to a couple practices and when she played in her first game… it was a disaster. Someone kicked the ball to her, and she ran away as fast as she could in the opposite direction. I don’t remember if she was screaming in terror or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.</p> <p align="center">It was so terrible for her, that we broke our house rule that you <u>finish</u> everything you sign up for and we let her quit.</p> <p align="center">One thing she loved to do was DANCE. The pretty costumes, the beautiful hair and make-up. <u>That</u> was her style. So we happily signed her up, year after year, for dance class. </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAsw6DKKilbGVlKGyaxl5E9jFy4qmgVrLYWtxy5WbSQlce-BTm4XKQzOqwGWdpZdBGCOudqP9Ny4axf2LMyTBRFzPtNR774T8IMQFVLwVcwFvfDTeYEQafhiUZdGXzxHDZoTx7j6ZSfIy/s1600-h/Alyssa_41%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Alyssa_41" border="0" alt="Alyssa_41" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHD_FHmgFWjRjVw1J0E2eSdv-aVKRAUIlO8JIUY3KjOwQoYV9pi3TzjEY06vZngBkPamJZOVCLrjVdqdhws3TDSDHWGaxgOitvu03G8oBnMB-r623DRKC2Cq0k2PatNiZywuBD1xs8rKo/?imgmax=800" width="479" height="307"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCdgHRSauo0mIEOsM6Ywwo8p51IEozQPAiL0vN_kHL04sQytCcOLFEcoXpDAL42tEeupTh8ST_PpAxbeehedyLKEL8Yx5QZFVSNIXa0F17-F1dgjS_cNEmRQH2RumfsGlK_rmIy5_KwKd-/s1600-h/Big%252520Girl%252520Snapshot_21%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Big Girl Snapshot_21" border="0" alt="Big Girl Snapshot_21" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin21oY3yt9VIIGN7G5iX7WjA7SF5ot07582dA1CS9wH5j205khYQl1wAOmqUyrVsaJNvTzaXIJFPTJa81M6j1OSaYA-DOnJ2Dq3pLzZfhsY16GczVJTURqQpjjQz-3n98c7fsGFZBxBwJi/?imgmax=800" width="269" height="407"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgYJJivvxfDHQwoNvm7olt4flpGA4a08uVXEZXYqJrLDZMxPfiLdgJwnP43_s2y4QnD6XzL0sJLPI5Hhg7Ss3OUBSu6o53ejLRpRJJdESV818lJGNomVty23dxTK50BMK8cgZBTY94qHu/s1600-h/Big%252520Girl_15x%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Big Girl_15x" border="0" alt="Big Girl_15x" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_5h0I-3ziXLyKTpKg2_BVWlisc7nR4pcFtf_xvHrfoYO56GSstyAIGcRiELbOgFIwak-bIQEIC8buSgtWgw8Fwyla1mg4q6mmHwt3ZqlXx_JO3O4XfnFOplEbqvbczEToRvmyds8tUIA/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="390"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p align="center">And Max, year after year, sat through hour after hour of dance recitals. He is a cultured guy. He is <u>always</u> willing to go to plays and “high brow” concerts with me. He doesn’t mind a professional ballet on a rare occasion, but to sit through 4 hours of loud, blaring music, watching preteens stumble around on stage is <u>not</u> his idea of a good night.</p> <p align="center">But he did it, every spring, because he loves his daughter.</p> <p align="center">When Buttercup was 10, Inigo was born. When he was 3 we signed him up for a “dance class” (it was just a creative movement class) and then we had two kids to watch at dance recital.</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1o9Y_EPdQS_43Sq_bQ5FQOvps6R67s5c_coaK1A2mOKroaTEul6AJnEMcEsUHW_BVfbQypY_baMPvnCwqx63cLc-9ftpv0FFHpyWd70U2h0VYm59DsirAUT9ZNThT_xBe8M0N3Hh8MYn/s1600-h/DSC_0065%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0065" border="0" alt="DSC_0065" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht3BNtVlFGnnEKWaNj4S8t-dHv8ahXW0LxOPhoD6O9EgckStR8uMjUMvCdH54CYU77HjdZhTQKsGo1j6vrq-DXtmA0YueXT3r_3xNA1Q0T_iWa6kU8WG-_kRxBYHAd1cvg6mn48zkgqpBZ/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="227"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVeuyyUirXcptW9Gxh0hTg77_a5wngjCUUnNLbHjlaVNP_yLQhMNtjbJlOIhrn_tctuCCfTYBpAPQFqHnQA59bxnNYrlj-aSRWzpntNvpSnT9VEqTymuhT2N-RhK0ahp3ps2g1Q2Wtm9nr/s1600-h/DSC_0085%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0085" border="0" alt="DSC_0085" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKN5ubZlCENdMPSB8GxzNvK0bzWKh9TbNJ2juCjw9ylJ6KCYCUSZmH5pr1vXj8r-3R6Nntz43cPGyDzkp1RwnN6bHrgu5tphVqv3HZJgkhI1hfmrFAyGWcf45bv3Zc49V1Ed2pwqDiFdX/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="272"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6NRMzCveoeO9Qxn92OKrUYGc4PXV3PfOKHdogW9VRacszvlA-DztR5QsB9taSVmnduDaQS2GclPoXN6p29kcRSk9NvXgm7qrtuaD70AfNHPvHy3ABJ9b9SnmEla724dwZkBRwD16_7_l/s1600-h/DSC_0120%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0120" border="0" alt="DSC_0120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNi_HctnI1Fbv208Tl1b2AxoKjkNs-1yzu_nQLHptVQyBbAS9nsKFXU4Mu1PiZ8tD1b6CNifTG80I13twCoWcIkyq9ihMunSDCHRV0pRvB6fp-oL20Ur6LI3RTPDXDNNa3segJ1cWyb5iO/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="364"></a></p> <p align="center">Both kids quit dancing the same year. Inigo was about 6 and Buttercup was in high school. Buttercup started being involved in theater and Inigo? Well, there were a few sports he dabbled in, but he didn’t excel at any of them. </p> <p align="center">Until now. Inigo has finally found a sport that he LOVES. I mean…. <font size="6">LOVES!</font></p> <p align="center"><font size="5">Wrestling</font>.</p> <p align="center">A sport that is the total opposite of dancing. In fact, I’d call it the anti-dancing.</p> <p align="center">And I know as much about wrestling as Max knows about dancing.</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">NOTHING! </font></p> <p align="center">I always though wresting was an insane waste of time. A bunch of guys rolling around on gross mats, trying to pin each other into obscene positions? </p> <p align="center"><font size="5">And, can we talk about the outfits?</font> Those unattractive and completely UNFLATTERING singlets? <br><br>So, when Inigo came home with the sign up sheet for wrestling, I tried to ignore it. But he persisted and I finally relented. We have been trying hard to find that <u>one</u> sport that he can excel in. One sport that will teach him discipline and good sportsmanship. One sport that will challenge him mentally <u>and</u> physically. </p> <p align="center">He loves it! He loves going to practice and comes home talking about Half Nelson’s and Double Leg Take-Downs. Don’t ask me what they mean, but he’s learning and figuring it out.</p> <p align="center">Wrestling was also Max’s sport and he loved it.</p> <p align="center">But Max is in New Florin, and only able to help Inigo on the weekends when he comes home. That left me to take Inigo to his first tournament last week in Guilder. </p> <p align="center">I walked in to the school where the tournament was being held and had no idea what was going on. What’s this weigh-in? I really DON’T feed my kid before he weighs in? Weight class? I don’t know what that means.</p> <p align="center">The chaos and confusion and <font size="5">NOISE </font>that was everywhere drove me BONKERS!</p> <p align="center">Poor little pre-school aged wrestlers were on the mats, wrestling their little hearts out and when the official raised the arm of their opponent as champion of the match, I watched them burst into inconsolable tears. Sometimes, even the champion would burst into tears, over sheer emotional exhaustion.<br>My heart was breaking.<br>Tears were everywhere.</p> <p align="center">I texted Max and said, “What am I doing here? I don’t want to be here!” and he texted back, <br><br><font size="6">“This is payback for all those dance recitals I had to sit through.”</font></p> <p align="center">Ugh.</p> <p align="center">Touché.</p> <p align="center">So, I am now taking Inigo to wrestling tournaments and when Max is home, he happily takes him and helps coach him along.</p> <p align="center">Inigo hasn’t won a single match. He has had a few injuries: an elbow to his eye, a bruised collar bone and sometimes, a battered self-esteem.</p> <p align="center">He has been pinned by some of the best wrestlers from other programs, but he has also been able to avoid being pinned and timed out the match.</p> <p align="center">He’s wrestling his little heart out.</p> <p align="center">The coaches have told us multiple times they are impressed with the drive and fight he’s got in him. They say the only thing that is holding him back is his lack of experience.</p> <p align="center">And yes, he’s cried. </p> <p align="center">Buckets.</p> <p align="center">I’ve seen older, more experienced wrestlers cry just as hard.</p> <p align="center">Who knew that wrestling was such an emotional sport?</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSt1UChB3A23dfh4x25vNMsGGREryaqE-xR4vBB-Jw409MBvikMcAlc9UVu8H7HCcv_AqX8WG_viJFpztG09qo3egLl5vVyX1ifdsoE5xv-n4MksOZ9Fym6U4gcyt6fQqINxKOoYsh-4qt/s1600-h/DSC_0400%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0400" border="0" alt="DSC_0400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_HC8MNzlCpKAzK5TbLBRtOb1oX48mPy-X6JYmxAHgneJVKQcPtZ124Dao6lawn93oJQUSOrIDi0yD3T5S5cZdcGDV-nvWpQKhl8wAQJdJON7t_88Osk_19MpwBvYauYcegJek6pU2cNX/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="272"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMgJhjECt1ilK2SBAyFnmU0w8-fL5oP-NwtLsiUG4T4Vzp5QmZE9Cif-8Gh9nWUiEjwGQzy-vI_ofBYXj4622VG2ipLsT7ne9vBpsNBQ_3_mD8jG803OLIRz5-aaqdM9w24BcwgykX7nyb/s1600-h/DSC_0387%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0387" border="0" alt="DSC_0387" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZ5IO1ikExonkXmgVvVXDrYUmA0J97SKIaQnqYy14U0CzGxZD3ZRmvnjF_6NzxP-lw6kGaiMGfXfMpjVwNocvzv3Jjej3ijezPpYi-plbArzrESu4i2rqGhDbf3TbU4SAouGjkUL0JBAw/?imgmax=800" width="289" height="195"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLjeZEQIOM1nIWEnGU4jT3qlsF8-gft4h8sFgNG28Fn58b3S-ilIIJ8M2e6ku_RcIw7ETjS7L9201Xd4wS5V9WFXK0W1KnHxgdMAz8whkv0Cnjsl0MqYqtp8uwzfZg4BnDhvhLCG5FvPC/s1600-h/DSC_0381%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0381" border="0" alt="DSC_0381" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMGiI86wLPA7PCtwUS8pAIcOUGy5SUJYwitFtJUWL_9111e-x8STqXDf9FL3teQsrr0Td5ZNhOgD3iQc8mxsTz6zs-199Y_T3OHSg861mMQgcDuw_ZgYKB9ztvQUybYjYVfyNb7uzd3Y9O/?imgmax=800" width="289" height="195"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-Iyp7bA7HjA7IY6C5ada1xqQNXXv4v-9_dbldi13F3j-KwrcYaBrbIXO7ifEUYWqjVFiUgH3Mo2MEn_sqsnMV1x99RXr2uQsTsuE0TTCko8hVXuC8XneqfG065CNWLcWuPEySJLpyb__/s1600-h/DSC_0366%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; 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downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"448\" height=\"252\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/zhMXFWcJV2M?hl=en&hd=1\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/zhMXFWcJV2M?hl=en&hd=1\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"448\" height=\"252\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" alt=""></a></div></div></div> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq_Iddm0P_FkJKF5wtwRUHzGKH8dcQ4kCoNWFw58ui9Re-MgE0Kgq3kn267ErImylP8S6of8h5K7U7ak9U9DW8I_GzxRAEc8TIy94DGQO8P48BqbX_5Tse9GKz-AHOX5bTE-dgtKL_8-e/s1600-h/DSC_0339%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0339" border="0" alt="DSC_0339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivK7deN7gOH9dkvdQ-gAox96Mjrb7RXtm5gJzUzWB9tcT6wjEZ_EQ663k7SI4u01BtFDqE8sXsTrZ1JcyRK2EKdXYgyUkjz51n6Ub1JsrjJIZou4VNdd_Y0R2UhZcc-GD_0HvV90mHa5Cz/?imgmax=800" width="289" height="195"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IzFJBjgdbbNImhyphenhyphenhasoHR4xh8pFbPqwqgipelcBwso95sJ3p9P9AzubXX3E-gzMUTBE-VQKVFkgF7aKt-AgivcQrA8yUEVomTeiLJtwXojk2nsV2psugJTWq1sS-Uel9O8l4n67AHUyV/s1600-h/DSC_0343%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0343" border="0" alt="DSC_0343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHpw6IZBZnNr-ur7cBz8U5aijIFaYqwVXQwfwSbaN6pqWQTa63CwD9AcnoiPodzyjD8s6-IXOGfJ6ejJ2uuaJlLSDOONl0NCIRYCufrl5WPHz9Q7ks3BZjPkyADHHd-py35u-H-CCK2aZ/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="272"></a></p> <p align="center">And now that Inigo is an “only child” (at home) we are looking at spending the next several years hanging out at wrestling tournaments.</p> <p align="center">We’ve switched from princess and ballet <br>to<br>wrestling and grappling about on a mat.</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-57683828597109324312011-11-17T11:53:00.001-07:002011-11-17T12:00:56.822-07:00Enough Already!<p>I have dragged this wedding business out long enough, don’t you think? </p> <p>Today I’ll post a few shots that the photographer took at the reception. I don’t have photos from the wedding day at the Temple yet. But our photographer for that event has health issues and is confined to bed this week after receiving her monthly plasma transfusion. (I used two different photog’s) We’ll get those when she’s back on her feet…</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ORhpkmZFgZhmBG3ZhdxBtbfJf8X_SW2wClzMdG89F5CBMdHZZAGlDbiJOgX0J871s_-dlH1v8s0IPLD8E7osixFEI2knvCAlqgjW3WTD8QB_ur8PinpGdp96BhIosCXR_XsvGqq0gJTw/s1600-h/A%252520%25252B%252520J20111111_0009%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="A J20111111_0009" border="0" alt="A J20111111_0009" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVb_6x8LCEn7gCaXUiePW7rxpYunUrG81Ywf_fwHhPIGFuN_FOfZcizLCEkboMhAiQBr8nxIShh8H-dJLee59pfcLtI4sm2EazH4ceevNobhDUujIJue3GWIayj9V2Vq39sULqopMqUZtA/?imgmax=800" width="454" height="364"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiMxLa2thqkBVR8cIUdQDJIfyjuXVqz2yXS96dTzAYFChq3_qWGR5XpoPHrGx2_Kpfi3f77lQhPijf7Kv8Y8bmxayuPFZG0wZJhpbVzhiKaxq1aacjPxBXINGJrsBYB3TForiMfbt75FUp/s1600-h/A%252520%25252B%252520J20111111_0014%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="A J20111111_0014" border="0" alt="A J20111111_0014" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht1VvZ-YE42EZNs0fh5CLJgmZqVD9I0kLP6WoPFscbzu66AIj5tw9zBA5F7mR9NKprlYZzMwEKwbnE1mrnmNmCYfzWLPTvbXeKe67ZSsCp1PxHtx9FNS63I-MG0rFvtW81NKHqR8WDnp9h/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="629"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioY8bBtOsV6NNDTxwaEx2PU5DPmlTer2E8_J5-Jh_u9JS9sCq7y4M_GFItrGRpl26LbDRtDAKCQKElStsAtj1oo70CP7shpPRPsO-vCeryzCoXIfVqf0eGQj3prrAqcHCtNBjoJ8RNMDa_/s1600-h/A%252520%25252B%252520J20111111_0023%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="A J20111111_0023" border="0" alt="A J20111111_0023" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-FKE7CyHiL7cETvnVrq4X2ThsuiwSHcqJiNO3BZg1SSE-7k_QMtzTrhnh4H0Idaw73PeAFJi8uk104SsTiJETnjhH-iIzkbVz5o64YIMMjdutOahSTTcCwZilkBGVaIQy8OsY0UDjXmon/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="348"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_U7u7J3j7nFP7eYu-9VVxcwcd8Y9DEtm1SaA2PXh4rqXkC38iHqYEx-ZPK8rK2aMXfU6ys36SLuM41GQbaiywwJ8bIHZA9hftR_BFFPrvqKtO9YULYbxTgszHrXuzhCF-_jNeCOfrqY-/s1600-h/family20111111_0014%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0014" border="0" alt="family20111111_0014" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB8ZxYNpJcwxAPX0Gnyf_MJv3GNiGw_cYkwLRw0m3SvmUAEV23KDLSB3zngHsI482NjrN5TUqXiafFCxx3Uds21tdwE9gcx6Sa1LVsYzNL3JhFVTgXlses95zpK_ns8CD_f3DrnbHzcnK4/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="348"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSTqcDwRErOvo7pivGt4QEXRqnJcVn5czGXndK_TCgt9j4U1IkxJ7FYmhfUsG3q0A2_I6DLEyA_TjQxSpPbHSKZbe4tCh2UCOTLsiuCaMLwAXJOX1OJCQ4rPgBrGSXZRJQQe0MJ-wJGZY/s1600-h/A%252520%25252B%252520J20111111_0012%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="A J20111111_0012" border="0" alt="A J20111111_0012" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZy5GilZes_wSAj5i20MgwfPXACp2dbtdVZYpvP0e5lOhl-9EJUeqlA2J-TT-rWzny3hAbjFf0hBq_zBN24lnsCkdTBhCSN0WB16vA5AKghDrOQUz4_j9JbPZcRfsTjra5sa4tGBcNOheW/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="354"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyY0P_6KQG2w06EIcZzXDfMoCg2NZ-XkkzAObsI0DI1uxlNXP5us_XR0xF-PdWhRxPRQrLTrAs1ZYZFhCPE-x3K34fK5U6l1z37nbtFVXDVBqX6RMP2yKHKROVlKj6HdSZUj7_xx-DJwN/s1600-h/family20111111_0019%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0019" border="0" alt="family20111111_0019" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2WlmjZKpLVg3DpHu7QjmSdtTHQRmGK3n1_Xv6Pv24l30lgNEvEwhNm8bY14tcB-i2FnBL-ESibui3vkJvMuziuj2yjUQXiHL3oAKCtuUo_jteZz-pCXvtgOpsJ168pRKZzC55J65Pv-F5/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="228"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgWyfx8hVL4jJsrMx_hGejtsg6IKWmtpE6t8H6sQ8sgsRLJLs1Yg3zyND-UvPZ5ZqHez_f4rstCgaNn9qRWxD7KDO2a-Ddo4XAkmeMtuBASJg447rC9-XBHdoq6emF-1xBwSML7RW0OWEd/s1600-h/family20111111_0020%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0020" border="0" alt="family20111111_0020" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_gx7lwIubLP5x1g1tvgGNFbt-kpNvlnf58qFXF6opke0YlymwcdZSF60ugtBO-oXFEMMiIiIQJuSWI3NT_BRMJSj-65ICYFdkPs8kcmdRRRkMwyHmkomb8yzCUob1-Aaupdqln_2Ix2t/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="228"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p>The FABULOUS kitchen help. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRwzL1y2DmZ1-Ojg83kn7NmmSFQbNAmLAOKeCGTpnMUgCR_W7XGAOzZFiX4esoNwI5K6M3Eh7pCSpZbDwc0WZ-wgQb7CO3q98nIwsA8m7LohSPW-f8ly94SWln83icrtyv_aQOfzZCBtF_/s1600-h/family20111111_0044%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0044" border="0" alt="family20111111_0044" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPYnUmoE4eXUQzol1_dZmmBj5YCDVF4-DkIPZUB8ghfOdUfov57rRAYkJI_TaWOXGpoIhMekIUa8NhHD2nRy9mOA9iNb1o94z2d_7nyfAWqVlpCCpbWX9mkOJ3VcD017I4xRpV2R9PkxaA/?imgmax=800" width="454" height="304"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZX_woVezVsCsXRX8byU6SfjabwpTIXnfsty_me4selYy90u2fdK0xPFlIadlb8TMq-FqCZTv4Aiy-O3VERAN0vYtSCxP6tTpVB_VWncLMUiMbIanxPrlk8qToE_O4y26lFWNswc4t3sEH/s1600-h/family20111111_0050%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0050" border="0" alt="family20111111_0050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hRcE8_UEJbh4wbSTw0Qy0zKGrB0slk4DZa_h5BD16p36McszY7xRTK1oMM3Ngc2T7yat3PKIqshOdSyQyHYCKNAx4NFN3gVzO88Ek0znRZkGeozLCzTwP0FDxQvktPrgl4b35aki6UpQ/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="284"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfLOLRlwiZMlJqBMriVf75RKQ1-vyoKqe-B2n1DCOUvOzqYy8QSxwl7CXj34qWcKtzpgKqsRBn-p42ToJvaIHuLWdoPV248lMdsiR8hVCr0_upryJjSHBeyeQDrifzKlO_H4nIYuHUzgP/s1600-h/family20111111_0056%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0056" border="0" alt="family20111111_0056" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6bDbDj1lvcZtYgRt2tUpalGSYlbLiobUZEViKUNttZI4qzr3A4rA0Ax2kwEV_YlWn5aGg7MCsiigEg1Ufq1IgTf6gLSG4jU0XD5AyQbD0cTsdqYVW6ph_T4Ao0vbBpoCgavJyXtB9quo/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="284"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1URhgL9jdBObqJNM_jdiW9QTNU5U-rqBsotP7BwIdphNWUbo0EUeQpby3Puw-HXStKoHbnzQHowoDPfaTR_8Z9p60pSe6fqJCn5jbsVTEOpONZSIbHkd28vdgXUKMefEfgaGm-D6TzTa/s1600-h/family20111111_0068%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="family20111111_0068" border="0" alt="family20111111_0068" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDT4XukQtmgfc-gbvYAETkNOUG9bOzRIIetv5GopYYw7G-rkvXtg0e41SAmDsVy0xyPFi5Bg8GF-KcEbJsZHutnsm8MqX0ZkKRmBHrkjbCSusjqdmmS99aAr-_PqUeV0RpjKzPrBbkJy9/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="324"></a>Biff’s dad was in a car accident several years ago that left him paralyzed from the armpits down. We weren’t sure he was going to be able to come to the reception, so we were thrilled when he showed up!</p> <p align="center">***********************</p> <p align="center">Below are some snapshots that friends and relatives took at the Temple.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPbRmJmnyo0z5cMwPeiVtLypiz21IB086JlWeUo6QUhcLZW5B3h-Hyyx-P91qHq-wAhbGuAGE2kpglDy4wATbZh0DlgxbOTvhNIjFb722O3StocQTX1i1VAZnmGj26ww2B1iflyoV9FVU/s1600-h/IMG_0910%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0910" border="0" alt="IMG_0910" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnytbroc1WmJjFGUAVKbQFGF2435lFq6rcQ5rVvVpYcDujKBmzNpV5fgKC0vCjsi1KMFsUThuxjlzu42GGohM9LG9jCCpki87o_I-6ZXoaI5mEzLF5vfLVvjPhSS2nKZniB7XGflEFWcb0/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="371"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1mR8bWfwEGsynN_oC3Kezif-ZZfFkeN57cSM729H0vmFgZ3b6peOM4zs6hyphenhyphen8RJZsRf97DK0ing0vOf2Ijs2PSw6FsZD6UGI-VUb6897WT2sOymrO8DImhywLai8XwC8F6lBbOpjze6WtK/s1600-h/IMG_0911%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0911" border="0" alt="IMG_0911" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2khDDF1AA8wYP8TddboGtqqKkil-DkY87Db9D0c70DCMFayusBU_nonyRZX-LfI39oF3x4DvbcmcUdslU-5OIJsHV1QvticdXMGv8JwqIbWnSD_xYky201Ek0osJsmChDvKASOF2_hcgr/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="371"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBQJE_3japnwJzO7-UZIMZsUe7qBsyaahL6Fn_AXCFb-EAukF2ld95YQo212RGJ0n93AU1rw_bL13arwYLOQ6urzkObgul8ZGtM9ohv-mI4G6Lvj3_dKSmo6TmyGKdDYgpTcli12ccvt9/s1600-h/IMG_0912%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0912" border="0" alt="IMG_0912" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgomqy6ct34VGNB352TMJMiG_ShrQTprAlpHvKdGiSyvkPCJsY7AX4tDdD4raaVork4tYztqzqt_AEpBm4XI6XFzmb2JI8Jt1N6-p2SJGoKcRUH-Ys0gN7SbrA0I_LAj7BTYWaw3rOYID9F/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p align="center">The Temple, thankfully, had this beautiful white cloak to loan to the brides. Isn’t it gorgeous?</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9A1SMtcMS2_UMKBmbT8U_gNEjUPqPbGUlwqyjBysSWZ2J1rcOLIxZsW0V_2RfSNpNtpYqAmbf_J6BYpXwZOo0hTwwchRACL5_vme5aegnLR5aVKOfbB_U7bew8q6r6z8jjKKREdRzCPU/s1600-h/IMG_0917%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0917" border="0" alt="IMG_0917" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdU46iPLEwEsh1JXIHmuAxgdKM8xhYtUHZj808uIT4HNOo8EfTOmbtrXp93pSxGUsm8iaJNmGrRv1h7093ppjF0aa593YdRFyWy1po5Bul29-RBrsyLPA_ftTVKa4ex67a6x5Lw8GR7uym/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="371"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyWmVRLEHQhNNitRmj2YXlAiv5NpWPef1uPiosO5G_tsifGGGzXSEftUSDHT38G97qBqZzDGXJkbLgZWtzqqDyuR15KVBm7uyfTAxi6y5deAdw1sMZu6njSdpFS9GObhZzUa6loLjl0Rt/s1600-h/IMG_0921%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0921" border="0" alt="IMG_0921" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn97fF_2-ne4OtOHmUfYuIHmulbuXDZ2IpWR7RMtnaoVlo-5r1V1hfCh54eugzvAlf9NZtJA2ef1ptgimd4Zxu2DZk3eS0yMzloy16POjn_wW9dQRz6UH0pZ5YBZTDh3goBPAlwpfNqSED/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="371"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirHZOG4vXd34dlaK2F6MCmwznmYaO6hcpMS7c3S3MntcCDjlLGn6nA07HvSzFE_DtqEH__ZorQdaJPUJfF2-yxfAFJP-lCVGPBVhw0usQ5710__kHPS7trR59oyOiwynv1lm7lQBzhwqbc/s1600-h/IMG_0927%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0927" border="0" alt="IMG_0927" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-OTS3qdYXPk3ck4akiFKkVdoP3FpZFKgxq0bmfTrQ0jo-gjeHMPQG6uJPeAvvYB2ykFM5QE6YgBiF004Ap5VnfukbwWGTKETOosvRg3E7OTXN32AQXIfVcdhyphenhyphennXRguCmy4Pv-LX2Spx6/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p>As we were leaving the temple to go to the luncheon, Buttercup ran into an old friend from when she was just a little, little girl… aged 3 – 6. We knew this girl and her family when we lived on the Oregon Coast. (She and Buttercup have the same name even!)</p> <p>Buttercup II was recently married and was going to a session at the Temple with her new husband. It was a total coincidence that we ran into them! What a treat for both of them!</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpT9BzfR7oTO2oD8TykGDoesirNgluxZAx17dkJ1Pu6_4tYVnhYZiE7kaiMoCmUY6jN28MwLP-veS6y0XemTox4-Vh-ct2rptEvrGSjdKugxpg7tNb-xvDu5EtrP2ZzacJF5AQY3fQ3WFL/s1600-h/DSC_0381%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0381" border="0" alt="DSC_0381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkdizOmSaqo1dELdT8FvlRuMOaUusFg3vDa-KbsIHOZEA6GnHTUCezHTiDd7eeojkEbPB-oWXp-1pja29-BC3MLWEkEgmNlZRLDIGrxieq9H2NyMZ3SstakrlFvbAi0LMyvKPW5EmHDcz/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="526"></a></p> <p align="center">***********************</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUElbgsnW5C-jfqWYzdufLTu5HePNmkPpHk6xs3H0EZ3xnC-WcYyEq9du0bxmepgksQHYHkFsPLIAaz8TnDyhQmsMrzpRkD-iOVIWxpHMLvaPhER6D_hSdN91DCVojKZN026heG_nJBO88/s1600-h/IMG_3480%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_3480" border="0" alt="IMG_3480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYyrjU3idJYIG-blxtghgx5MYCkgBfCBxd2pCtas_FNd7ATot1GXl4uKr1bvzSBQ7h7qxqFhXqy3X_vuYzMeOG2pBWvejwxnUfEFzjxZHz3M3Nxo1ql3OGsZKuOuHRPacKRxEV2Un5YYe/?imgmax=800" width="454" height="342"></a></p> <p align="center">How handsome is this guy?<br>(He insisted that he have a bow tie and pocket square.)</p> <p align="center">*****************************</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYFrtDeOYdZq3ffsqThzAxmDxyfAoS7Ezc-6e6JH3oJfzMo0RIiaGG-OenBM_DIlJt508Xr72xiVqOs60xxSFgvAir0egxMLlxX0_gKiXu5s15lXfitQaoDskWy_Sc9jhGkGlFZmq2Rc_/s1600-h/IMG_3488%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_3488" border="0" alt="IMG_3488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k1UiscjyFukxlT9qCtteqzcYcVJsJRtHc3ZuxRCQp0zJvnSgAjMjytqxOTbJtSVkrD9cnlerMktGDv_N-1MByKuvYvVkHIXPQQGGK_Xr1s7tiM8fqEI9IqA7OWcwTY8LyNGrFE5ug_Q1/?imgmax=800" width="344" height="259"></a></p> <p align="center">Papa is NOT usually allowed to do this. He usually gives Inigo a funky/weird hairdo.</p> <p align="center">**********************************</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kr5wLx_Qtm71N4YnsjCoX9vxkhjbkcTvT5Efix7OPz2IQjHWVMoIpcqS2I64F4Nc9nfHARceskwIazBBHX-0cfLkgMe9NFtXiumJRYt9K7ToOuNLOr1UiMreMXWL6y3Kf6w9uT72iqlL/s1600-h/IMG_0857%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0857" border="0" alt="IMG_0857" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzEsuwXMa586yi2lEdzQrAAJJuPmdyq8nZEzP0lttOKBRLGp5XClJswkFX0w8ocV6Afo6DQQ78Q8RXqZB1y2t_aEKrIkyb20E4McVrqfEWN9KPyno5bOjGH7pC_5Y66KqtZHfmekJSr6W/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="304"></a></p> <p align="center">The cute little girls who kept the tables cleaned of dirty dishes. My sweet neighbor made<br>the darling zebra print aprons for them to wear!</p> <p align="center">*******************************</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSyNsNPFfJjz9oI2WVNnaXMUA6RZCfkVqIYSvPfyroHoIZN70Y80OWZSDc95iqknlyg5UTw3aGnM3oUHuuUyqie7fQo9xNjcWfkvceJVN_5ImnK4XxX3DUUETgh36ofo76uOVNUUhzumh/s1600-h/IMG_0945%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpc2W3SygeEIEuxC2V5hofOQlfJPGOM63kqK1hq4Dn1pWv4WZze-fPcwhuLy1R80SgImWXyWkyARHfSxlC8pq79fjvpEegMrqYqo1N8lEsa_cKvqSmz_fQl1w3NhDIB03_heDxb9EA6oc/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="537"></a></p> <p align="center">And finally…<br>this snapshot sums up our whole weekend.<br>Buttercup was giddy and happy and just a little silly.<br>I was overcome with emotion and by the time she and Biff left, I was a bucket of tears and bawling.<br>And there’s Max.<br>His life motto is “I’m just happy to be here.”<br>You can see by the look on his face, that he is.<br></p> <p align="center">*********************************</p> <p align="center">And if you have made it through these long, drawn out posts, I commend you and I thank you. Your dedication to my ramblings is admirable.<br>I seriously hope to be finished posting pictures and stories.<br><br>Although, I haven’t mentioned the story about how I got pulled over by a police officer on our way to the luncheon….</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-5404868155800667172011-11-17T00:19:00.001-07:002011-11-17T00:31:25.138-07:00So…. How’d It Go?<p>Smoooooth.</p> <p>Piece of Cake.</p> <p>Like a breeeeze.</p> <p>Seriously.</p> <p>Having the wedding and reception on a different day worked <font size="5">perfectly </font>for us! </p> <p>(Too bad you can’t hear my singsong voice as I say each different line. It might make this post a little more interesting.)</p> <p>Setting up for the reception was so easy. No pressure. <br><br>I supervised and hung around a little. Our sweet little decorator was so patient with me, but I knew that deep down she was wanting me OUTTA THERE!</p> <p>And I was happy to leave it all in her EXTREMELY capable hands: I had family at home that needed feeding. I had to get dressed and get my boys dressed. I needed to get my daughter all fancied and gussied up. There was still plenty to do.</p> <p>But you know me, Miss Control Freak. I needed to see with my own eyes that everything would be done in time.</p> <p>And it was!! And it was <font size="5">GORGEOUS</font>!! (There’s that sing-y voice again!)</p> <p>Sadly, I do not have a photo that shows the whole cultural hall all decorated.</p> <p>I know! I know! Me? Not have a picture? WHAT!?!?</p> <p>That’s what happens. I was busy making sure everything and everyone was where they needed to be. I handed my cameras off, but – wouldn’t you know it? – both camera batteries died.</p> <p>I know! I know! Me? Not be prepared with extra batteries? I plead guilty of having a distracted mind. (Many of the following photos were taken with my cameras before they became inoperable.)</p> <p>Here are a few of the pictures that I do have: <br></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhah6Qk5g1_LM8Zz4ro8hWc0RoG9A6lv8RbAkMk4kfyCaoC9kJaJ50gfPsPAzoNy-MYEWyziLwen8Q-2Vigf5QGNT81ax9C33h6ztWDZ3-CZZnLXxCbb3uB4sLsOm_LljLgzKlVavt-Hsu2/s1600-h/reception20111111_0017%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="reception20111111_0017" border="0" alt="reception20111111_0017" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYewxyzDhtLzCV6yFmzHh1l9fcNG_7uko7IuAZ0ci0xje3l1IoR96eFmkUBSuyQcgSjp0tnqhV5DTUHycNTZJp9FgpaWaPQx06iIOQWILCpU1K0kaiPtGEtsugZx89E_mHOrG1fsoIktVR/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="203"></a></p> <p> </p> <p><< The beautiful cake made by Buttercup’s grandma, who is also Max’s mom. Isn’t it gorgeous? </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdORkFFZ2QEXvgX_P7lBEoDH_WnD3iC1Jk26ElvEznZ5gdlAFD2fXtnHn3C9n0IEMjkbRSYfGu33HQoYdsVNxk8MHnY7YA-x5I1Eyy4EupR4gdq-DXVcQ5zPKqRLGyJwRWIqD_miet4VFh/s1600-h/reception20111111_0022%25255B15%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="reception20111111_0022" border="0" alt="reception20111111_0022" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrur70sOFDTsgMDTLNwyxH4W4ku76giAnt_N6diTdxHH3gZzhn2hf0ZwkdK4jJ1ARokCinteRV1C9UIZNOY-1WntpeIlZ68i61Qz9qhh29dgh-CzVv5C4ebufQCF27rW8kebK-1GIVBNJR/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="224"></a><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDEJPIKaFG6bukxMUucMjCUdLnpldZ_3LUbK4v9c8BWSS9_zuwTvVIyQ48Eqc2m_YuVqUEV3VaZ44IKeQ6kxJeUQqtgaQPzxf9QY0dFf5jxC92e59hT4eoOGFTetZeq1HUfBfjBooisuN/s1600-h/IMG_3497%25255B9%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_3497" border="0" alt="IMG_3497" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFva2A2IshoCTO7hOmv3Y-FfaJMS_Zrb1mNXE6e1xiMFfBLXC9ou8QmoJcrOEG0rm2_-vTYPsWK3PZu2axMDVXSIo3TGg7VLUBnpZblJoMNGcRO065sP2mL2H0J0jYNr9omLzURNrahN0E/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="210"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p align="left"><br>^^^ The pictures above are the centerpieces I was in charge of. (I should explain that the decorator was in charge of all the backdrops, table coverings, chairs, etc. I had to be in charge of <em>everything</em> that went <em>on top</em> of the tables. It was daunting for me… a very non-creative person.) These centerpieces were wine glasses turned upside down with a flower under the cup and candle on the stem/base. I also put heart jewels around the candle, on the base, but you can’t tell in the picture. My mom hemmed the zebra fabric. The decorator, who is simply amazing, then took these glasses and made them pop and look <font size="5">fancier </font>than the vision I saw in my head of how everything was supposed to look.<br>Also, on the tables were little books I printed up. The cover said, “Words of advice and helpful hints for the bride and groom.” When you open it up it said, “Dear Buttercup and Biff,” with a few lines for guests to write down helpful hints or advice for them. Then there was a place at the bottom for the advice writer to sign.</p> <p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbGE831UA8EoLqE-5Ppe5GKeeE3GOpsNxIoB8Jl4D_g4LTjQzN__6v8uOP7CK19j7obllXq4pqun4aHw896VD2uWX2TmEfcJ80vfSnCGZ9foLDvgnCEAX-ocvs6xsQVlrsi37_FUT9ro5/s1600-h/IMG_0799%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0799" border="0" alt="IMG_0799" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxfUCdbj0PR-9PflDK_-E1g5dUsJhJH7AyH2uVqof3HN1Isulp6T_qnJ6C0dhBLvVrbD-mym8GK27tqiK6dY_anj0YlqLM7dayMMVN1Vfw9mh8BwohvyRMKkKQDzgmFL8qSlQ56hGK5VR/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="229"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYRi-fo4t_KgZNNN_9V_Koe3uo3ySICj9S0CNhxW8fXr4KF3zEoNwlKdpuOGzWSwGEldfJxZvUlpLc0my08dgUQ1ShAnOBhoJsENPe1Itdvu8TdR2y4u6fKLJTQqHTLac5QLdDIbWnlKo/s1600-h/IMG_0835%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0835" border="0" alt="IMG_0835" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVu30Jyk-wrrD8njJs-hnnCCxrYeqn4VT6r1FD954sT_xTRpnigGi6BMNkVZ8yWgK7hymO3fjIExbkHeLlekcL-laeUsrA-difS6oOpIjjKwzODJQrpa69Xb5RJg3C3dueKYHVvmPUP45/?imgmax=800" width="254" height="337"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p>^^^ These are the centerpieces that were on 4 of the tables. The cute box belonged to the decorator and I just had to fill them.</p> <p><font size="5">HA! ME?!?<br></font><br>I don’t do flowers. So I called in reinforcements. You know, a<font size="5"> floral “arteest”</font> that has the designer eye: My seester, Red. She did a GORGEOUS job! She rocked the gerbera daisy look that I wanted.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xOZtMDw_DS_o1Xi8gLrpMSD9KakshcOWAzCnkOXjffjV_CNa60p6PKvR2lrkXbCIOjpAQwlG9swL-iW_uJLf4Sg1uuwpczFiHU0fvQIPTO0AxZBhsP0fG48Iz9w3yMtqsJyOHuU4VPgj/s1600-h/IMG_0781%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQFgCXG0dTSfeMvwq8IyIeXzQhyOi55qlDyyx8N75G4GAP0trozHM-jX-Oq0QS-2jZn_HgsYAgWTIHjuAP6NgN4YpolnS4MviJKufDZdFySrFJ5LL7rrsgrqq6rhrYFg68dQDnQMugXqH/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="266"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxOjaE-BA-u6TpbQXBFFfyfVSTWzqEjkI95lQoRO9aA7xEAV9wrGRtfmTUUcDmFl9tF0epm9umE08n13OmsyhgZjqF9uUIUJVwrvkObBwpLU39vDwETfykQVaQMUL709gQNdHMH4UkCzEM/s1600-h/IMG_0788%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr3HUasrRQ20eXk4Rk5stT4llN2NbTWWht7uQdx5vL7nTCL7vLN4WT_jyidAJHlfx5bdf4isQ-nGOftSGWkFagfNV4kHsPxageCWCXgmjkJxCyWyMF_BFEQ3hFb4rw61e8tF1NZ2W8eK8/?imgmax=800" width="289" height="218"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1D60_JZkwekhEM2-ZxF_qbHvboCPHIqz2ooG1Z4Lq3GShrEAxuq3HtX1kcPV7cxKyejoK_oAW47FE1Tzr99eKc6vYpAPUCvwDLTKFWFQBnGleNFFsut-k8QH_wyQuJ6xJQhnSVQCgMA-D/s1600-h/IMG_0833%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7aZ6UIJL3OKJ6sVSwDUYlCbltndv3yVZd-yyrURmR0dq3vJActkcZLpJ6UQHwmw7A1KpsaCpiW5koceJH6xb50iZnd5MEw8Bbbjbs6pDjUqpNm0JBYCCEGP-43kLGLocRZEMRIKtTeHl/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="371"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p>^^^ These are some of the display tables. The top picture is the “display table.” IMHO, it’s the silliest table at the reception. It’s just crammed full of things/pictures/memories of the bride and groom. There was a lots of pressure for me to create a decent display on this table. All of Biff’s photos of his childhood are in a storage unit somewhere, along with all of his childhood memorabilia, so I had to use pictures I lifted off his Facebook page and printed up. Buttercup, of course, has more pictures than anyone has a right to have, so the challenge was NOT picking a photo from every age in her life. I printed most of the pictures as 8 x 10’s but there are a few 5 x 7’s on there too. I then mounted the photo on a piece of artist’s canvas, coated them in a generous covering of Decoupage and planted them on an easel…</p> <p>The bottom left picture is the “Eats and Treats” table. This photo was taken early in the evening before the reception started, so there isn’t much food on it. Seriously, every time my kitchen help put food out, everyone would run up and start eating, so they had to wait or there would be nothing left for the reception.</p> <p>The bottom right is the Sign In table. I found the cutest little lamp with fuchsia fringe on it to use at this table, but it was broken and wouldn’t turn on. Bummer. I like the lamp the decorator brought though.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuxZoLC5H2WG9oMbbIk3vjY2Hnk2-Q1I9sbMxxuOe1bP9w_mvMWn6ysqL7rL1UXbGcqlRB-MfJoDmxUghBTOK1wTP-bW8Fy4eKkXJ5a52aKvbs9euLoXNzxiZx_O38ZZQeKN6UK4C6ff8s/s1600-h/IMG_0836%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi23Ft-4uDf-H_Z729OUlM8XP5H4idQGb544CAIdXYn6L-X8nloZpmN3szOM6GJ5VOMbRp0BYC9vBwyUjttHSEsTVKF_m-rSMHcghOW2tWh9JX3e4uEm0qCQk0LNeLTzH1_ty2qnQya5HC/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="371"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLa3Sx0KEWiqg5XshUvnTQF0paDYp39hQvX7w-6JEl4sNAMseP2bBGndleDxctY92XgEhc3bsBhQVJzD-rObs3R8r92O4771A1qKUK4azwIGfYBCe7UxlWVBZKp9mgVFplC7w3rPVv-Vlb/s1600-h/reception20111111_0029%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="reception20111111_0029" border="0" alt="reception20111111_0029" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSoOZRbg23-udMCA6R929KZjZVJeCE8LaCKopqv9busNkXNJAvyf8cbOHFostUjGnY7bEO4dc5gc4BXbw4GUNB-QOidRD5w1akBxJHFyt8hYx2uGJ3BZlYNuJmieFs0_mgvGxpq3mVyzC5/?imgmax=800" width="294" height="196"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p align="center">Some details from the tables.</p> <p align="center"> </p> <p align="center"> </p> <p align="left"> </p> <p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86fyVL6f5uRWCg24oiEz0afKEpR2Y9EQole3-H7BCZGtDBWE1RjHQHwVqokF8yz3InG7ae8nIfTg7dpuTtR2GtbgY4uC419sEaFSHwr2X5t7-s_q5-V4JWg4y91phdJgyA01Hcc_3T4D4/s1600-h/IMG_0864%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRTJDlRX8DUan6T7O9JwBlsDPajuI6hZVS3ft5ghNRszuRDwZGar0oGzx1pJq52pRZEWAP4yC8NHj3tVrbKu6PNSfywgEcxGJcWdl7cODtRS8dBPknEXTPfDWrzx1SuQ5guQfP_iiP_ba/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="416"></a></p> <p align="left">^^^ This shows some detail of the tables. They were triple covered with black and fuchsia cloths and made to look “swaggish” by pulling up the pink cloths and pinning them with a beautiful broach. You can see one of the broaches on the empty table in the background.</p> <p align="left">Aren’t the chairs cool? Not your ordinary LDS church/ cultural hall chair! I tried to talk the decorator out of using them, but now I’m so glad she insisted (nicely of course).</p> <p align="left">And that about sums up the reception side of our weekend. </p> <p align="left">I’m sorry this post is excruciatingly boring. </p> <p align="left">Oh well. I do it for posterity, right?</p> <p align="left">One more photo. Sorry it’s blurry. There was bad light and no time to fix the situation. This is Buttercup’s reaction when she saw the decorated room. I kept her out of it until everything was finished, then walked her in with her eyes closed…</p> <p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4WTwjonvnBPwYc__rvq6wpWXjcJuk7ADIHv1tJwf2ctx_ms2YWGGnnDFYAQ-UuC4rMVBYLnVuXPLgI2P72RJJfZNojRgXAunFXg24elBFokMyoInGF0H6NWvVZwV5EcBgBqLdr7iUXJF/s1600-h/DSC_0343%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0343" border="0" alt="DSC_0343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRf0Xk44E_ZiIoHJrrCF5mn1dzOlhHjY6MfpxsWRfoqzulMwzVQMQvelAal0BsDBFv-63yIJH2Bo5JkhZJsCFtIx8dNi9uHrhXrFnf14grkmXovLcSlcTwKzl3885e75WnPNxYGkMiXXp/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="339"></a></p> <p>Yep! Tears of joy! She was so happy with how it all turned out! And I’m so grateful for everyone that came and helped! There is NO WAY Buttercup could have had such a nice night without all the help that my friends and family gave. I’m so blessed to be surrounded by so many wonderful people.</p> <p><font size="7">THANK YOU, EVERYONE!</font></p> <p><font size="2">(Coming tomorrow… professional photos @ the reception. I know you can’t wait!)</font> <img style="border-bottom-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-left-style: none" class="wlEmoticon wlEmoticon-winkingsmile" alt="Winking smile" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopE0fmGcrdtDfIg3zJ15nWP0ki6CMNJMkSAaShOR2WQPTRAvFRCIqknV0khKvR7ZZh2uR-4Q90L3aaRhDdfRyNZ_LmSWPD4grp_Uqu2ffllMSHFygiZt5WaaPZY4k9SBHaXyapQymBMCO/?imgmax=800"></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-48517447816210402022011-11-14T16:00:00.001-07:002011-11-14T16:00:31.979-07:00Blood, Sweat and Flour<p align="left">*Editor’s note: This is the second time I have posted this. The first post had it’s formatting messed up when I opened it up in the “editing” format on Blogger to add an additional photo. Rather than fight the HTML part of making everything look nice, I opted to re-post this in a more readable format. I’m sorry for the people who already left comments on the previous post! I will leave it on my blog because your comments are important to me. <p align="center">********************** <p align="center"><font size="6">I’m cheap. </font> <p align="center">I admit it and I embrace that part about me. <p align="center">I hate spending money on frivolous things like: <p align="center"><font size="6">FOOD!</font> <p align="center">Seriously, how stupid is it to spend a ton of money on something that is so consumable? You eat it, you enjoy it for the 30 seconds it’s dancing around on your taste buds, you swallow it and then… well… we all know where it goes after that. <p align="center">Yet, I (obviously) enjoy eating. <br>I really enjoy putting that tasty food on my taste buds for that 30 seconds and savoring each flavor as I chew each bite <br>(unless it’s <u>really</u> good. Then I just <u><strong><em>inhale</em></strong></u> the food.)</p> <p align="center">That left me in a bit of a conundrum as I was preparing for <br>Buttercup and Biff’s reception. <br>How do I serve the tastiest morsels <u>ever</u> without spending a gazillion dollars?</p> <p align="center">My answer was simple: <p align="center"><strong><font size="6">I make all the food</font></strong> <p align="center">1) It’s much cheaper than catering. <br>2) I am in control of the ingredients. <br>3) I am in control of the outcome and how it ultimately looks and tastes.<br>If it tastes great, then I win.<br>If it tastes bad, then I can’t blame anyone else.<br>Which can cause a problem <br>because if it tastes bad and doesn’t work, <br>I’d rather blame someone else…<br>Ahh… what a vicious circle!</p> <p align="center"><br>I digress.</p> <p align="center">I felt that I would save a lot of money if I made all the tasty reception treats on my own.<br>So that’s what I set out to do.</p> <p align="center">Here’s our menu: <p align="center"><strong><font size="5">1) Ohio Buckeyes<br>2) Mini pies<br>3) Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread<br>4) Oreo Bark<br>5) Brownie Bites<br>6) Cream Cheese mints<br>7) Mini fruit pizzas<br>8) Mini cream puffs *<br>9) Mini cheesecake bites *</font></strong> <p align="center">* Foods that I purchased. <p align="center">I have to say that I’m pretty proud of how things turned out! <p align="center">************************ <p align="center">I’ve never planned a wedding reception before, so I didn’t know how to plan the numbers.<br>I made the Ohio Buckeyes first. <br>(They are a peanut butter balled dipped in chocolate)<br>I made about 700 of them and they were the crowning jewel of the refreshment table.<br>I didn’t realize how many 700 really were.<br>That was an <em>insane </em>amount.<br>Steck and I ended up dipping only about 500.<br>That was an <em>insane </em>amount.</p> <p align="center">***************** <p align="center">My mini pie shells were different. I only made about 300 of those. <br>I used my regular pie shell recipe and a flower cookie cutter to cut the shells out. Then I baked them in mini muffin tins. They were so tiny and cute and the crowning jewel on the refreshment table. <br>A serious amount of time and effort was needed in baking them. I felt like a quitter when I gave up after baking 300. I wanted to bake more, but I ran out of shortening and was too cheap to buy more.<br>If 300 wasn’t enough, it was too bad.</p> <p align="center">We filled the shells with pie filling purchased at <a href="http://www.preparedpantry.com/">Prepared Pantry</a>. which is pretty much the coolest store in the western United States.<br>We used chocolate, lemon, cherry and apple pie filling. It comes in pastry-type tubes, so it was a breeze to squeeze a dollop into the shell and then top with a squirt of whipped cream from a can.<br>They were so cute!</p> <p align="center"><font size="2">(From left: Oreo Bark, Mini Pies, Ohio Buckeyes and Brownie Bites)<br></font><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMeC4DwPcv0P4TSE9w_iQ_d2fhDILbsD1QLnhBrrQBmVi8FaDQATDEZ3I7UJ51cH8lMfoPfZbaCHPeM5hdVHUeWLyzbataD9aKgv3kDwEcZpdwDl1yxXY3Aj86OQVOeQFyjzSaXBa_mYCf/s1600-h/IMG_0838%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkH7vHNJw5mSEqrFwnDHgwNl1rnwEWPgBLzy2kg3aeC5uTCHVbf1QoCd8he-NJUxkLEg3ArBPAc_6JnWBjbYmPdMzz_qggRcWetqrXdOI8yvnKXwPBAeMhmBdAgtMX816fWGBDJ-BmKHO/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="416"></a></p> <p align="center">The mini fruit pizzas were my crowning jewel. <br>I saw the idea on Pinterest but used my own recipes.<br>I baked about 400 round sugar cookies and used my aunt’s fruit pizza recipe to make the cream cheese “sauce” that goes under the fruit.<br>That was topped with slices of strawberries, blueberries and kiwi.<br>They were so pretty and absolutely delicious. </p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiux0idX3XbWnWpL_co1fqIq6is2Bwdy9y9z_aeTwfs875CRLWSky7V_nfztWc1GREM_LFf2iGP_M4pjoVUTklFlbVthYd9dH2SxAJa3i7-UVTs_JmKbfIMZbrGRcwLZO7qd6P08USQiWeI/s1600-h/DSC_0360%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0360" border="0" alt="DSC_0360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUygZG32Lykkb4hEg2Dr6Ny20niJ0kuW1cj79N9Lr207SGa3lnD68NRInvoqIVYZ7i9jUXiFxzCe9-KXbUfil2COvYhF_X6triTCv9J2JNPKCzRn8-dEIvfqQyM2SrE4hGD8zSA3DE_2l/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="373"></a></p> <p> </p> <p align="center">***********************<br>Biff specifically requested the Pumpkin Chocolate Chip recipe. I had help on this one!<br>I baked the first 5 loaves….my recipe makes 3 at a time.<br>BUT WAIT!!The math doesn’t work out on that! <br><br>When I baked the first 3 loves, I didn’t put parchment paper in the bottom of the pan, so when I dumped them out, the bottom of the bread stuck to the bottom of the pan. <br><font size="5">It’s not attractive</font>. <br>And you can’t serve<font size="5"> “unattractive”</font> to your guests.<br><br>Sadly, my family had to consume the ugliest loaf that refused to be separated from its baking dish.<br>It was definitely a burden, but we sacrificed. ;-)<br><br>(The recipe is called <em>Better Than Great Harvest Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread</em>.<br>I promise it wasn’t a burden to consume that destroyed loaf.)<br>My wonderful seester, Red, made another batch of the bread, so that gave us a total of 8 loaves.</p> <p align="center">*********************** <p align="center">Remember when I posted my <a href="http://chellianne.blogspot.com/2011/08/please-sir-may-i-have-smore.html">brownie recipe</a> last summer?<br>That’s the recipe I used for my brownie bites.<br><br>When I was baking the mini pie shells, I looked at that cute little mini-muffin tin that I borrowed from Steck and had an epiphany. <br><font size="5">I wanted to use that pan to make brownies!<br></font>Brownies that were cute, and colorful chocolaty goodness.<br><br>So how could I do that?<br><br>I held on to the pan and slept and pondered and brain stormed (with myself) on how I could make those bites yummy and memorable and pretty.<br><br><font size="5">And then it came to me!<br></font><br>I have a recipe for mint brownies.<br>You make a mint flavored frosting and frost the brownies. <br>Then you slather the top of the frosting with a chocolate coating to seal it up.</p> <p align="center">I’m pretty sure the brownie bites were the crowning jewel of my refreshment table.<br>I bought fuchsia food coloring from Prepared Pantry and colored the icing, hoping it would match Buttercup’s color theme.<br>(It was close… which is pretty good when it comes to food.)</p> <p align="center">When I finished making them and putting them together, I was very relieved to take 300 of them over to my neighbor’s freezer. <br>Otherwise we would have taken only about 75 to the reception.<br>They were so good and extremely tempting!</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHnrzA5XL8-Ssue16uCVSjetQmk3tetSaaSDv7vM3ILqT0ebbDSr4U0y3EATUmLzOhbTCxZrG3yhI-YWwRG1uS0E55wMnqY0JweMK9UwTzH0LxsF1m-X9rJh963CCTH4QiZIju87yE34P/s1600-h/DSC_0347%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0347 (2)" border="0" alt="DSC_0347 (2)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmSlW10z-kBdzO2CEOSUBI-3iftqcGZHK6Rd9Z_JMYfhN1fyDRoKnYnabG8_9s7O_R1yKaCz7EVMorrEyBeUUAPPAyzO0M8sQgVg5OAP08Et5zrdgGbMcB-CueukNtHhJWqHyBfWIhQrn/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="373"></a></p> <p align="center">***************** <p align="center">The Oreo Bark was not planned. I made it the night before the reception. <br>Biff loved it.<br>I tried making a cream cheese and Oreo cookie to fit the color theme, and they <font size="5">FAILED</font>! <br>Dismally.</p> <p align="center">This left me with 3 packages of left over Oreos. And I wanted to do something with them.<br>I remembered seeing a picture on Pinterest where you take crushed Oreos and mix it into melted white chocolate and pour it onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper.<br>When it’s cool, you break it into small pieces and voila! <br>A delicious sweet treat is born!<br><br>I liked how the black and white of the Oreo and white chocolate looked on the table. <br><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKEzCDsxMcv1kAgPs072z-NVRgMOmqUyfcDRWdOSG_fZnSXQvNihm5qOUVWi0bZ6zq4r3ybxkh6fAuUxPojVEDPAIHdekb-8q2dqudp-zIrY7XceKzTnirIQMrm4RS9qevFSm9jIAaCxk/s1600-h/DSC_0324%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0324" border="0" alt="DSC_0324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzyZNqadO-78GckIvHEhQhDdz_0rmH4tZDJ-ravQMqMnzFe5rf5rrAp2P7TQm9DRYskCkWawscUaxicFuSgXa09Cxmu-4__0A1-mvxWyFHbARZ-bPd-Y3dE9gH63DYkjLcfdfTAPb_tyO/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="373"></a></p> <p align="center">****************<br>Also on Pinterest, I saw a recipe for Cream Cheese mints.<br>I remember my mom made these when we were little. <br><font size="6">I LOVED them!<br></font>So I asked Steck if she would make them for me, which she graciously agreed to do.<br><br>I was really bummed for a couple days because I couldn't find the left-over mints.<br> I searched high and low and I couldn't locate them. But today I started cleaning out "Command Central" <br>-- which is Mom Talk for "The Extra Bedroom Where All the Wedding Stuff is Stashed" -- <br>and lo and behold! there they were!</p> <p align="center">I was pretty excited! <p align="center">They were beautiful and matched Buttercup’s color theme as well. <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierf6fNhnKrcV7F1034fFbGMt0yLNP2vR_hWk7P_51C1b6TpiCc5466eji-28XVp5CLT7Do0BKOgFXg3rHo5F19JxKT32Ligu7EdiePV5q1E9un4NvIp0241jbjqNNhdw_5NT8plbZPF9v/s1600-h/DSC_0324%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0324 (2)" border="0" alt="DSC_0324 (2)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwxEvWAs2wxO46HkGFOxBGlE4xrbVSmu6bQ_88ZV0gEibmkXjPDynyiLjpXkKZhea6QpXbJtM-WyeCnqb4nGVKauv59ia4pcnXo89evhl7Wr1LEo2veeol9z-QDJm6JkId9WCcr-MIo3o/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="373"></a></p> <p align="center">I also found the left over pie shells, so put them together and took a photo so Buttercup and I can always remember what the treats looked like. <p align="center">***************** <p>My last two dessert treats were purchased at Sam’s Club. Mini cream puffs (which I hear are quite tasty) and cheesecake bites. I didn’t get a taste of either. <p align="center">************************ <p align="center">It was a lot of work doing all that baking.<br>But I had a <font size="5">BLAST!<br></font>I’m sure my hands will eventually recover and stop cracking and bleeding from all the washing (dishes and hand washing) that I did, but it was all worth it.<br><br>And I’d do it all again.<br><br>To save money.<br><br>To have fun.<br><br>To create a beautiful memory for my child.</p> <p align="center">********************** <p align="center">P.S. I will post recipes for these treats, eventually.</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-16515331807652814632011-11-14T10:49:00.002-07:002011-11-14T15:32:11.300-07:00Blood, Sweat and Flour<div align="center">I’m cheap. </div><div align="center">I admit it and I embrace that part about me. </div><div align="center">I hate spending money on frivolous things like: <span style="font-size: x-large;">FOOD!</span> </div><div align="center">Seriously, how stupid is it to spend a ton of money on something that is so consumable? You eat it, you enjoy it for the 30 seconds it’s dancing around on your taste buds, you swallow it and then… well… we all know where it goes after that.</div><div align="center">Yet, I (obviously) enjoy eating. <br />
I really enjoy putting that tasty food on my taste buds for that 30 seconds and savoring each flavor as I chew each bite <br />
(unless it’s <u>really</u> good. Then I just <span style="font-size: medium;"><u><strong><em>inhale</em></strong></u></span> the food.)</div><div align="center">That left me in a bit of a conundrum as I was preparing for <br />
Buttercup and Biff’s reception. <br />
How do I serve the tastiest morsels <u>ever</u> without spending a gazillion dollars?</div><div align="center">My answer was simple:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>I make all the food</strong></span>.<br />
<br />
1) It’s much cheaper than catering. <br />
2) I am in control of the ingredients. <br />
3) I am in control of the outcome and how it ultimately looks and tastes.<br />
If it tastes great, then<span style="font-size: large;"> I</span> <span style="font-size: large;">win</span>.<br />
If it tastes bad, then I can’t blame anyone else.<br />
Which can cause a problem <br />
because if it tastes bad and doesn’t work, <br />
I’d rather blame someone else…<br />
Ahh… what a vicious circle!</div><div align="center">I digress.</div><div align="center">I felt that I would save a lot of money if I made all the tasty reception treats on my own.<br />
So that’s what I set out to do.</div><div align="center">Here’s our menu:</div><div align="center"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">1) Ohio Buckeyes</span><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">2) Mini pies</span><span style="color: #9b00d3; font-size: large;">3) Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread</span><span style="color: #f79646; font-size: large;">4) Oreo Bark</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: large;">5) Brownie Bites</span><span style="color: #ff80c0; font-size: large;">6) Cream Cheese mints</span><span style="color: #ff8000; font-size: large;">7) Mini fruit pizzas</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: maroon;">8) Mini cream puffs *</span><span style="color: #4bacc6;">9) Mini cheesecake bites *</span></span></div><div align="center">* Foods that I purchased.</div><div align="center">I have to say that I’m pretty proud of how things turned out! <br />
<br />
************************</div><div align="center">I’ve never planned a wedding reception before, so I didn’t know how to plan the numbers.<br />
I made the Ohio Buckeyes first. <br />
(They are a peanut butter balled dipped in chocolate)<br />
I made about 700 of them and they were the crowning jewel of the refreshment table.<br />
I didn’t realize how many 700 really were.<br />
That was an <span style="font-size: x-large;"><em>insane </em></span>amount.<br />
Steck and I ended up dipping only about 500.<br />
That was an <span style="font-size: x-large;"><em>insane </em></span>amount.</div><div align="center">*****************<br />
<br />
My mini pie shells were different. I only made about 300 of those. <br />
I used my regular pie shell recipe and a flower cookie cutter to cut the shells out. Then I baked them in mini muffin tins. They were so tiny and cute and the crowning jewel on the refreshment table. <br />
A serious amount of time and effort was needed in baking them. I felt like a quitter when I gave up after baking 300. I wanted to bake more, but I ran out of shortening and was too cheap to buy more.<br />
If 300 wasn’t enough, it was too bad.<br />
<br />
We filled the shells with pie filling purchased at <a href="http://www.preparedpantry.com/" target="_blank">Prepared Pantry</a>. which is pretty much the coolest store in the western United States.<br />
We used chocolate, lemon, cherry and apple pie filling. It comes in pastry-type tubes, so it was a breeze to squeeze a dollop into the shell and then top with a squirt of whipped cream from a can.<br />
They were so cute!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(From left: Oreo Bark, Mini Pies, Ohio Buckeyes and Brownie Bites)</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9DHOje5iJZE3-TNRnDE-mhK2GIFJj8Ls_h6giwuQiL5BTMI1LzTDG5FLHYbU-fKMIMuFtX1oIedc6RWcJUYir4rKCLKmjwZnflj5qpvOHuPFwXHssBFb_RB2o2RKbXPiqKf5VXmZKR9D/s1600-h/IMG_0838%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzwRPm0JrNAGRpcltAVDP0XsJUwqwyVMGkCHcY7TnWfMftCqvr1wWYr_vHL5qi41o_jC4uMw6JBWDmSNC-4sIhzdY3Vcmhkd_3dC-lp3B1s6iOqiNAHV1he1R-Ezpewlzo7PVisYDEqra/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="" width="579" /></a></div><div align="center">The mini fruit pizzas were my crowning jewel. <br />
I saw the idea on Pinterest but used my own recipes.<br />
I baked about 400 round sugar cookies and used my aunt’s fruit pizza recipe to make the cream cheese “sauce” that goes under the fruit.<br />
That was topped with slices of strawberries, blueberries and kiwi.<br />
They were so pretty and absolutely delicious. </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpglqWg07ikGdnozM1qWiO5sMiasWZ2RYBnyELYemDa-6ZGLvnzHYCs_AsoRsFqlLaxms7IYTZodexcypWpoUkl_n-LsmrAFMQnMm9duDq0WyHQvW9jjvFZYbG_k2jyKRUHyMGEv2spmC/s1600-h/DSC_0360%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSC_0360" border="0" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEics7rQnhZZxHqlpTj4TC8ZED4mqC6ZkVk97j_KOlzw4nSqjJHQeC85GbC2Cu-U63ZgFhYQnhXwT9d75dE3SevMb5ieYudhuP3L5ujBQhRcGdAf3ZBxycUnT-sM0pcknTy3F40jBBvlCUOW/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSC_0360" width="504" /></a></div><div align="center">***********************<br />
Biff specifically requested the Pumpkin Chocolate Chip recipe. I had help on this one!<br />
I baked the first 5 loaves….my recipe makes 3 at a time.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">BUT WAIT!!</span>The math doesn’t work out on that! <br />
When I baked the first 3 loves, I didn’t put parchment paper in the bottom of the pan, so when I dumped them out, the bottom of the bread stuck to the bottom of the pan. <br />
It’s not attractive. <br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And you can’t serve “unattractive” to your guests.</span>Sadly, my family had to consume the ugliest loaf that refused to be separated from its baking dish.<br />
It was definitely a burden, but we sacrificed. ;-)<br />
(The recipe is called <em>Better Than Great Harvest Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread</em>.<br />
I promise it wasn’t a burden to consume that destroyed loaf.)<br />
My wonderful seester, Red, made another batch of the bread, so that gave us a total of 8 loaves.</div><div align="center">***********************<br />
<br />
Remember when I posted my <a href="http://chellianne.blogspot.com/2011/08/please-sir-may-i-have-smore.html" target="_blank">brownie recipe</a> last summer?<br />
That’s the recipe I used for my brownie bites.<br />
When I was baking the mini pie shells, I looked at that cute little mini-muffin tin that I borrowed from Steck and had an epiphany. <br />
I wanted to use that pan to make brownies!<br />
Brownies that were cute, and colorful chocolaty goodness.<br />
So how could I do that?<br />
I held on to the pan and slept and pondered and brain stormed (with myself) on how I could make those bites yummy and memorable and pretty.<br />
And then it came to me!<br />
I have a recipe for mint brownies.<br />
You make a mint flavored frosting and frost the brownies. Then you slather the top of the frosting with a chocolate coating to seal it up.<br />
<br />
I’m pretty sure the brownie bites were the crowning jewel of my refreshment table.<br />
I bought fuchsia food coloring from Prepared Pantry and colored the icing, hoping it would match Buttercup’s color theme.<br />
(It was close… which is pretty good when it comes to food.)</div><div align="center">When I finished making them and putting them together, I was very relieved to take 300 of them over to my neighbor’s freezer. <br />
Otherwise we would have taken only about 75 to the reception.<br />
They were so good and extremely tempting!</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLwGcMZFgicJLiP_tMvvkj6Yt0ToiNUhIQyywa_ihUALS4jCLrmY8Xah7ILFgq8oDmTdxCRlYpEZZURSEpZtP2y3f8SdpvtE4I2Jh8da-uCnQV9iU3BW6voIvDj2SSRecINcYfOFWNECT/s1600-h/DSC_0351%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSC_0351" border="0" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEL5PriEI0TFi9efOUNaDERUKOOwHcdlBadkvNH-hDyDZb5yiafCOz90DwevFouX_YQkARgJJ-3mbYX2VaLkc3DuxZlC0q0Y7H2cuLAF3WjEIrTlcZsYqhjo_WJvka2SxXf80-fyYuA0lj/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSC_0351" width="554" /></a></div><div align="center">*****************</div><div align="center">The Oreo Bark was not planned. I made it the night before the reception. <br />
Biff loved it.<br />
I tried making a cream cheese and Oreo cookie to fit the color theme, and they FAILED! <br />
Dismally.</div><div align="center">This left me with 3 packages of left over Oreos. And I wanted to do something with them.<br />
I remembered seeing a picture on Pinterest where you take crushed Oreos and mix it into melted white chocolate and pour it onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper.<br />
When it’s cool, you break it into small pieces and voila! <br />
A delicious sweet treat is born!<br />
I liked how the black and white of the Oreo and white chocolate looked on the table. </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg53uP6Tk7HXGk5VvLUJVHvvPA9jvowhrjWXWtn7ullH0EHNLMKSBERLmGjlEmJosBo-Mg92vOWoYa5v0JnM_aLHTSmTqvWBWfGnS0yOogG4icFRGrk7xFxZEdw6wA4KU_sIUkW0F70t-fZ/s1600-h/DSC_0324%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSC_0324" border="0" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkCExnOsnbQ01KTs91bygtVNPe2hdFhTpSVw4nyQ0gcPCOY4jpIsYT9C6RdaphNImrro1K-HxZ6uDTUIuya7ph1vHVSuVgDzIQj08vuVj6NtpNXH_XeyPSC3Wh4NAfoEER8DNOUOJyyaA/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSC_0324" width="554" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">****************<br />
<br />
Also on Pinterest, I saw a recipe for Cream Cheese mints.<br />
I remember my mom made these when we were little. <br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I LOVED them!</span>So I asked Steck if she would make them for me, which she graciously agreed to do.<br />
<br />
I was really bummed for a couple days because I couldn't find the left-over mints. I searched high and low and I couldn't locate them. But today I started cleaning out "Command Central" -- which is Mom Talk for "The Extra Bedroom Where All the Wedding Stuff is Stashed" and lo and behold! there they were!</div><div align="center">I was pretty excited!</div><div align="center"><br />
They were beautiful and matched Buttercup’s color theme as well.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQUU5ZwLb79l5Qci07nVKhw1Oe-lzigfamm8ydICpC78DXy27SsWs9uVeuW3D7GeckcdyfCvqlO9h_QY7AxlPB_ok9Ol0Q6ci2JYiph0q5_ZCM1NTsl0hRB8yWeB-QyliIJPmre0yJ0jW/s1600/DSC_0324+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQUU5ZwLb79l5Qci07nVKhw1Oe-lzigfamm8ydICpC78DXy27SsWs9uVeuW3D7GeckcdyfCvqlO9h_QY7AxlPB_ok9Ol0Q6ci2JYiph0q5_ZCM1NTsl0hRB8yWeB-QyliIJPmre0yJ0jW/s400/DSC_0324+%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also found the left over pie shells, so put them together and took a photo so Buttercup and I can always remember what the treats looked like.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div align="center">*****************<br />
<br />
My last two dessert treats were purchased at Sam’s Club. Mini cream puffs (which I hear are quite tasty) and cheesecake bites. I didn’t get a taste of either.</div><div align="center">************************</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">It was a LOT of work doing all that baking.<br />
But I had a BLAST!<br />
I’m sure my hands will eventually recover and stop cracking and bleeding from all the washing (dishes and hand washing) that I did, but it was all worth it.<br />
And I’d do it all again.<br />
To save money.<br />
To have fun.<br />
To create a beautiful memory for my child.</div><div align="center">**********************</div><div align="center">P.S. I will post recipes for these treats, eventually.</div>Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-68845347688071454992011-11-08T23:00:00.001-07:002011-11-08T23:00:27.812-07:00The Final Countdown<p>It’s 9:30 pm -- two days before Buttercup’s reception --and I have<em><strong> two choices</strong></em> of what to do with my time:<br>a) Go to bed. <br> I don’t need to explain this, do I?<br>b) Keep cleaning my house. <br> Yes, the house that has been sorely neglected for the past 6 weeks while I have been feverishly crafting, painting and baking. <br>I won’t go into the sordid details, but I will confess that the spiders from town saw the neglect and brought their U-hauls and have been escaping the sudden temperature drop outside to take residence in the cozy comfort of my dusty corners.</p> <p>What’s my choice? What am I going to do with my time?!?</p> <p>Why, I’m going to start blogging of course.</p> <p>Sometimes, it just feels good to do something that you don’t <strong>HAVE</strong> to do, right? I’ll let those spiders have one more night of frolicking frivolity before their demise at the sucking end of my Hoover. (I’m benevolent that way sometimes.)</p> <p>We got Buttercup’s bridal pictures back from our photographer and I wanted to share a couple. </p> <p>That’s a good reason for a blog post, right?</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6AYyMIPSZlCXyo8eYXTNuoMctB57KgXjCr2mKoxe4ZKdrnGjuDEjaAId8HRxsKVTUwa4KiWMwVgpQ4FqTqZ00v3rCkQLa-1XoDjOdsz6t2g9rP4YqJm5yHUBmJmrVc1mcnquKHalYQ06/s1600-h/IMGP3915%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMGP3915" border="0" alt="IMGP3915" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRdhhQoRd2H9j-Bn3IkWrDKSz648nfszVIB3vhXbQU2ZfYm6eydOg7p2tRigY7EqWwC7eHFeczoHGWCAxkIG0cSKPj80vbUcWPrNPfn_pG1aJUpMo_X9BpD4NAXZPhzIJ5b-aSSCwSM5T/?imgmax=800" width="379" height="570"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7i3dxabX2ucCLFtQ2xYMJ-kvazVutwQlh8z5-qHLeVuM5iQfJhZ8jGMfNYDfTUZV3g344b_sjzgiIauPXzDkVAUplMIaEWHSA7XXFKFzBY5Pzx0NQzHShgHZQIdmlmTnhy8531Fycvky3/s1600-h/IMGP4041%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMGP4041" border="0" alt="IMGP4041" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEklhHa6F87MHzbOFrWNCq4r4yX2cSJhxwogoDaXt_htcyeyEbbbetBkLPrjQ1Eg580bzeClozJO2w_pHFQ9U4Eg1gvmfLNtQV8X4zatjB1lE7MUcj7KwBvrIwCcIP9fQ8bXWPBzMkAUb9/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="368"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQfJ3X_yGeLqxKy_CY6Api6JnBXumUCM9wxTZWoiXAhEcxsuRe8MVLpJkVCjCRKlYbtmFCFHsHwHj5pNNvulVr-i8E-_LzSss_hM2hZOFsMMMO0XDHvaTrcLHlAe0hlFONk0szq8206gTw/s1600-h/IMGP38631%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMGP38631" border="0" alt="IMGP38631" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_fuawIpggYN9btNNPM_XRY6PwSha83RQ_T2JaEG-UN0R4caPBB8VwKkKlN6OnjZMNsGQFdWRCtOqor1aDfiVat-29p06UKJ8LphACyx-ObDV683YtDhZTzMqixwksLE33svoyKaXo6Ig/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="608"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNY_86tolc7boUd8g_aEOf1yY7UAnnkRkkAqOaUq9L9459OpTlQsMopplWDeCV8VW7dVYtGszE8CLuL0rJCKnpfNCjStVY_TNNoFy4vU1d5IKBBa6j9yUF5ELMkdNTzn_DaUI3kXnhZMw/s1600-h/IMGP3914%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMGP3914" border="0" alt="IMGP3914" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmBaOqaC1nGxstm5Sy-t7ehaRX-rhRnJg6D7PJLq6uoaIDX8kGF6QDBWrpUDCCto_K2-KZYZjMO0to1mVA9dIkcRuApwRJnBJN76QprE4QwqSuDbG1ewXHkmd3SfH5DXrl61a3UgJ9bYv/?imgmax=800" width="454" height="683"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQGfqoz7dPnV947Mfi9OwZlwGhDmvjcj52O6fm5OqxFxsLCRZqRJCTRpbj4ap3dc9Rfj5xKciEKwGhqmYrzFCsnXkFp5mp-1W7Flq2cxHb5z9Scm27pkr838BHtSq9yb4urZ0fIuX2F1V/s1600-h/IMGP3938%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMGP3938" border="0" alt="IMGP3938" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ADyUqn2Sve9CJzT_B8fj85-Rm_1GxqC9Y8pryeZ3VnePAni0YcKx6274R9ZFPafJwqy_s-H2wMbG-F_ssJXv5J4DurNipwIrztUMig1RHYx4ZqdrBf2EXm-6N3P1CAN5BRTQWC-Kmqoj/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="335"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd9NUdHc00_NiFTFf4YGVkNQLMZXBy10dkJt05va_bgK2sCX1P3AtcgA7_B0ywXngn06xQV9hWiZevqdpVJ2_F7ZXd4NTcYNc9d4MFR0_Oozh1KK1_9k7grN_ByiqKVYDY_wlSyvRQ7Ser/s1600-h/IMGP3986%252520cropped%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMGP3986 cropped" border="0" alt="IMGP3986 cropped" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8MQWO1imIEhBUA1COd3G4yF66D-7iAxu621V-SxZF6wq21RDnSCHa5rWZmC7ctGOX2Zq-5Py1cV2iWRQz9dVWGkROeKinCm9j5YaRf-YYMDrx6A7OfWECNGTLk6MxyMMH_XDqlqua4vfn/?imgmax=800" width="454" height="454"></a></p> <p align="center"><font size="2">(The photo below is actually a photo I took. The photographer was very gracious and let me practice while she was working.) </font><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTyzwAaYfbpjwPB5-JvYVaBBojKhYNxOzTcwM0e6gItJ19Ki13Y9hMoKFUjMZ5JJTrxtVZXGKsVZS1Xl3BCAaOXoyluufHkMEzEPODIn5e_0qPPRhu0J0e_Pr8-mTX34YN4jCAEOni6y6/s1600-h/DSC_0388a%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font size="2"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0388a" border="0" alt="DSC_0388a" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2rMTX6SyRhe6otG4cXKqXBVAfrERisKSlRhEEroc0wLmQpn9jxIs-oq-9DQoGYtr5qS5of9KaSyzV-gI-wujchmgJ21yLFhFxqpWT3zfcy8iU2ZiXBecekNWAJ5b0MVkqz9FdT6hcijW/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="565"></font></a></p> <p>I am ready to choose option “a” now. My eyes are feeling so heavy. But before I go, can I tell you how excited I am that we chose to have the reception the day before the wedding?!? (Gelly, you know I got the idea from you, right?!) I am excited to spend one whole day doing each event individually. I feel so busy and swamped with all the reception details that I am afraid I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the reason we’re celebrating… the actual wedding. By having the reception over with, we can just sit back and enjoy the wedding and celebrate the fact that these kids decided to make sacred covenants and enter into an eternal marriage. Saturday (actual wedding day) is looking to be blissful and calm and completely peaceful for me…. maybe…. Hopefully….. Keeping the fingers crossed.</p> <p>Oh, and another wonderful thing has happened: Buttercup and Biff chose to be married in the Guilder Temple, which is the same Temple that Max and I were married in 24 years ago. I started to get curious about our sealer. Is he still working at the Temple? Could he actually perform the wedding ceremony for my daughter? I contacted the Temple secretary and found out that <font size="6">yes indeed</font> he is still a sealer in that Temple! All we had to do was call him and see if he would be willing to come in on his day off.</p> <p>Well, I knew we had that one in the bag. See, this man is an old family friend. He has been a friend of my family’s for <em>decades</em>. He was my mom’s bishop when she was a teenager (he was the youngest bishop in the church at that time); he was my stake president when I was born; we all lived in the same ward together and I’m sure some of his children used to babysit my siblings and I; he gave me and my siblings our patriarchal blessings; he married Max and I; and when my seester, Wees, was sealed to her husband and children, he performed that sealing. He has been engrained in our spiritual milestones!</p> <p>I gave his phone number to my dad and said, “Dad, do your magic. See if he’ll come marry Buttercup and Biff.” Without hesitation, wonderful President said yes. </p> <p>So… the same man that married Max and I will be marrying our daughter and her new husband. How cool is that?!?</p> <p>It makes me happy. </p> <p>And now, Option A, I CHOOSE YOU!!!</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-67918556757487523602011-10-24T23:08:00.001-06:002011-10-24T23:13:43.958-06:00Dear Mom, I’m so sorry…<p>… that I got married one week before Christmas.</p> <p>Yes, I did that to my mother. </p> <p>Max and I thought we were acting in the best interest of everyone by getting married between semesters at Ricks College. That way I wouldn’t lose money on my housing contract, we wouldn’t be too distracted to get our school work done (that part of the plan didn’t work so well) and – well – we would be “on break” after all, so it would just be <em>easier</em> if we got married on Dec. 19.</p> <p>Obviously, I was NOT the person planning my wedding. </p> <p><font size="5"><em>And now I understand what a terrible thing I did to my mother.</em></font></p> <p>I’m planning a wedding – I don’t have a huge holiday looming that I also have to plan and prepare for – and I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. People warned me about the intense work that is involved, but I didn’t fully comprehend what they were saying.</p> <p>It’s like having a baby. People tell you that you can experience moments of being uncomfortable, but they don’t spell out the details of how uncomfortable you can actually be.<br> They tell you that labor and delivery are painful, but somehow they don’t communicate that it really <font size="5"><u><strong>IS</strong></u></font> similar to pulling your bottom lip up over the top of your head… pain-wise.</p> <p><font size="7">Holy cow!!</font></p> <p>The days are winding down…. we have just under 3 weeks until the reception (remember, Buttercup’s reception is the day before the wedding) and my goal is to have EVERYTHING put together, completed and baked in two weeks.</p> <p><font size="6">TWO WEEKS?!?!?</font></p> <p>If you think I’m crazy now, just give me another 10 days and I’ll be completely bonkers!!</p> <p>But even though I feel like my life is totally out of control, I should recognize that I actually have a lot accomplished. The dress is bought and we will pick it up from the alteration lady on Wednesday. We have most of the clothing we’re providing for the members of the bride and groom party. I have the centerpieces organized and ready. After searching long and hard for affordable, GOOD photographers, I feel confident in the ladies we have hired… and can I tell you that I feel we have them for a STEAL? Seriously, don’t ask how much we’re paying. It’s embarrassing. I feel so <em>cheap</em>! </p> <p>Wait!</p> <p>We’ll call it <font size="6">FRUGAL</font>!</p> <p>I have decided in an effort to save moola, I will make all the refreshments for the reception. I’m still working on that, but so far I have between 500 & 600 peanut butter balls rolled and frozen, waiting to be dipped into chocolate the week of the reception. I have about 400 sugar cookies baked and frozen (for mini- fruit pizzas). I’ve only made two loaves of pumpkin chocolate chip bread, because I had a slight disaster baking them, but I will finish baking them tomorrow. Also this week, I will be making about 400 mini pie crusts. Here’s hoping they turn out! And a few more items.</p> <p>Yep,</p> <p><font size="6">Crazy.</font></p> <p><font size="7">Certifiable.</font></p> <p>But I haffta do it! I only have one daughter. I only get one shot at this – unless Inigo marries a girl from across the country. Then I get to plan another reception, but on a much smaller scale, I’m certain.</p> <p>Here’s an observation I recently made: Remember when I was Camp Director? The first year I planned camp, I was a basket case. I worked myself to the bone trying to learn everything, organize everything and make it the best camp EVER!</p> <p>The second year was easier. I still worked hard, but it wasn’t as scary. I was a lot more confident in my abilities and had learned that whatever we had planned, would be fun and the girls would all say it was their “best year ever!” (Don’t they say it every year?)</p> <p>The third year (yes, I was camp director for <u>THREE YEARS</u>!!) camp planned itself. It still required a little effort, but I had learned enough and had things left over from previous years that it kind of just fell together.</p> <p>Planning a wedding/reception is exactly like camp. At first, I planned NOTHING. I was scared, overwhelmed and didn’t know where to turn or who I could ask for help. Little by little, people approached me and said, “Do this,” or “Look here” and I began to see that I actually can plan and prepare. Slowly, things began to fall into place and I gained a vision of what to do and where I can turn for resources and ideas. <font size="6">(HELLO PINTEREST!)</font></p> <p>And now, I really believe that if I had to, I could plan another wedding reception. Yes, it would still require work and effort, but it wouldn’t be nearly as stressful. But, I don’t get to plan another one. Not for a long time anyway – at least 13+ years. </p> <p>(Someone told me that if you’re the mother of the groom, you wear beige and SHUT UP! Meaning: leave it all up to the bride and her mother. It made me laugh!)</p> <p>So anyway, in all my camp/wedding analogies, I was trying to decide which is more work: A week at girl’s camp with 10+ girls, or a wedding reception.</p> <p>The race is close… very close… but I think the wedding reception wins! After all, when you’re planning camp, the bishop calls someone – an assistant – that HAS to help you. As it is, I’ve done most of the work for the reception on my own. HOWEVER!!! Let me add the disclaimer that I have had MANY offers of help. I’m not sure where to have people help, so I haven’t taken a lot of people up on their offers, but there’s still time… <font size="6">so all you friends and neighbors who read my blog, BEWARE!! I may have said no to you last week, but you may not be so lucky next week! :)</font></p> <p>And if I have been neglecting my blog lately, please understand, because my daughter’s getting married and I’ve been otherwise occupied!</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-5850411745022323462011-09-23T11:52:00.001-06:002011-09-23T11:52:06.960-06:00Communicating…<p align="center">Last night I caught Inigo in a lie.</p> <p align="center">A full on, outright lie.</p> <p align="center">To be fair, this kid is usually extremely honest.</p> <p align="center"><strong><em>Painfully</em></strong> honest.</p> <p align="center">I haven’t caught him in a lie in <em>months</em>.</p> <p align="center">Last night was one of those times where he felt it was easier to “stretch the truth.”</p> <p align="center">(The kid <u>IS</u> human, after all!)</p> <p align="center">He was being punished and dealing with the consequences of his actions<br>(non-violent of course)<br>and he said, </p> <p align="center"><font size="6">“But mom, it was just a miscommunication!”</font></p> <p align="center">Oh really?</p> <p align="center">Is that the “new” way of thinking these days?<br>Just like “new math”,<br>telling untruths/lies can be construed as<br>”miscommunication?”</p> <p align="center"><font size="5">Nah.<br></font><font size="6">Not in this house!!</font></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-16375182505886011892011-09-15T19:09:00.001-06:002011-09-15T19:10:19.075-06:00Dumpety Dump Dump<p>I’ve got a lot of things running around in this old brain of mine…. time to clear them out and make room for more. Plus, I’ve decided I’ve had enough wallowing in my own self-pity… So, my daughter moved out of the house! Get a grip, Valerie! It happens! So, we’ve had a few flat tires this year? Hello! At least we have a car that can get flat tires! I’m ready to stop feeling sorry for myself and ready to face life with a smile again…. <p><u>Walking</u>:<br>I have found a trail in Florin that I have started walking on every morning! It’s amazing and wonderful! I have always said that if I can find someplace <em>interesting</em> and not boring that’s outside, I would walk it every day! AND I FOUND IT!! This trail is in the dry farms and it’s got a fairly steep incline, a gradual incline and then a beautiful downhill portion. Since it’s in the farming area of our town, I’m walking in the fields of potatoes and wheat, along with patches of sage brush and wild grass. I hear the grasshoppers hopping around in the dry grass and on the dirt of the trail I can see hundreds of footprints: people, dogs, bunnies, and birds. Lots and lots of birds. I wonder what kind they are? Sage grouse? Pheasants? Quail?<br>I also hear that there are lots of skunks up there. I take Lola Dog with me, so I’m hoping that they are sound asleep from their night of carousing by 8:30 when I’m up there. <p>I think the loop that I normally walk is only about a mile, so the other day I walked it twice. Today, I went with a friend and we walked a new (to me) portion of the trail, which I believe is just short of two miles. I’m working hard at getting faster so I can go farther. I’m happy to have found this trail. Sad that I found it after living here in Florin for 13 years! <p align="center">This is the only tree along the trail. There are always LOT of birds singing their early morning song from the branches of this tree as I walk by. <p align="center">You can see my faithful walking companion, Lola, chasing something… a magpie perhaps? <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWliJHA3a3UgEQoO7zWlUbINh_O6cjBrsvmHFgT4x7Ow-7kPYRneGnGabDZQ3AveJjLCfL_uEPj1IefLHtIcQA8nqJoSIVfB8kKnZfke-ySGFSxktmnjSN2IiGf3SeTmuUAB6HzZUKjnUk/s1600-h/665%25255B1%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="665" border="0" alt="665" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigPG4HEGA1ku79WAF3Yp4AOywkAmcEPnA0MKCmOnCACVSXmBkPS5RsIpPKiN6Q4a3yUSixnHO62ZUkzyMu_1SHNnaRrlz_zQv3EVqWTGsfadTjH2aUfctXdsF94rKX1xaMU4QjzM9G4qD/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="626"></a> <p align="center">(The other day a crop duster was flying over and spraying the potato fields while I was up there. Lola tried her hardest to catch that plane! It was hilarious watching her run – at top speed – through the fields, with her little cocker spaniel ears flapping in the breeze. I wish I had the presence of mind to video it!) <p align="center">Just some of the footprints I see on my morning journey.<br>Both of these pictures were taken with my phone, so they’re not the greatest quality</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MSIlZOyXA8sb0iwjV7nD8VwF_iG4_v22Iy9O_f6-v3aIFdkcQlTZieVdlP7NUAX8zoSJwoibhzOYQb2jvs0JLCd6rrA5cwpqNXxWXxBSR_vc94lENgbU-3RN-DryR8l9fLKm2ZCLQAwV/s1600-h/668%25255B1%25255D%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="668[1]" border="0" alt="668[1]" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTKsusayR4sQkSOZYeTOLKkROUcWbMf56SN8oU0LAPUUfz3B3nAya9ZYNCOrREK4Q1e6jcBeNmjo7Z09AtUtokYoQCorb-zA4GhyphenhyphenTShgzyj7ZMccy6l3SIudXQlwX3_xf0jV_poyJPLXK/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="285"></a></p> <p><u>Wedding Planning</u><br>Seriously. How do you plan a wedding??!? I have been feeling completely lost and in the dark. I really didn’t plan on Buttercup getting married so soon and so young. I really thought I’d have another 3 years before I had to start thinking about it, so I didn’t pay attention when I went to receptions. She’s been engaged for a month, getting married in two and what do I have to show for it? Not a lot! I have a couple crafty things completed and she’s picked a color scheme. We have the dress on lay-away and I know which ties to purchase for the groom and his co-horts. <p>I have needed serious HELP, but I’m not the kind of person that calls someone up and says, “HELP!!” <p>Finally, I realized that that’s exactly what I needed to do. So I called for help today. I contacted a friend in my ward who offered to help with food. She says she’s very good at planning food for large gatherings. Well, I don’t know how to plan food, so I’m going to use her. I called a local person who has a business in decorating for weddings. I wanted to do most of it on my own, but finally realized I <em>simply can’t</em>. I’m here alone and I can’t do all the planning, organizing, assigning and everything else required for a wedding in addition to packing up the house, keeping the house clean, keeping up with Inigo and helping out with his activities, etc. etc. We’ll meet with her on Monday and I can’t tell you how <em>GOOD</em> it feels to know that I have help in that area! <p>Now, I just need to find an <em>affordable</em> photographer…. <p><u>Television</u><br>We turned off network TV. We realized that we were paying a lot of money each month to only watch about 3 hours of TV a week. (Love my Judge Judy and Jimmy Fallon!) We watch Netflix a lot more, so we opted to get rid of TV and keep both Netflix plans. <p>So, now that I don’t have Judy or Jimmy, what am I watching? Let me tell you, I have gotten reacquainted with Sam and Diane, NORM! and Cliff… Yes, at that place where everybody knows your name. I just finished Season One of <em>Cheers</em> and have laughed my head off. I have also gotten reacquainted with the good folks flying out of Cape Cod on <em>Wings</em> and both Inigo and I are totally and completely in love with the Huxtible Family. Inigo has even said that he wants to have 5 children so he can name them all: Sondra, Denise, Theo, Vanessa and Rudy. If he’s lucky, he’d also like to have a Cliff and Claire. If I’m upstairs in the kitchen and I hear him downstairs watching TV, giggling madly, I know he’s watching <em>The Cosby Show.</em> He’s made it all the way into Season 4. <p>I will admit I watched the British comedy, <em>The IT Crowd</em> and found myself laughing so hard that I thought I would disturb my neighbors, but in the middle of Season 2 (I think) it turned raunchy and when the “F Bomb” started being said at least once in each episode I stopped watching. BUT, before that, it was simply hilarious. Why they ruined it with such foul language, I’ll never know. <p>I will miss <em>Modern Family</em> on network TV, though. It starts next week and I’m excited for the season premiere. It was filmed in Jackson Hole and I’m so excited to watch it! Hopefully it will be on my ABC app for my iPad soon. <p><u>Houses</u><br>Inigo and I are still in Florin. There are still no houses available in New Florin. I don’t know how we’ll ever get over there. Poor Max. Poor, lonely Max. (The rental that we thought would work only had <u>one bathroom</u>. I’m sorry, it may sound snobby, but we need more than one bathroom in our home! Even if we are living out in the sticks, I will NOT allow the men in the house to relieve themselves in the yard if the commode is already in use!) <p>And that’s it… for now at least. It feels good to get all this stuff off my chest. It makes room for other frivolities and nonsense. So I say, BRING IT!</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-64857611052880119112011-09-14T22:50:00.001-06:002011-09-14T23:27:49.581-06:00Grown Don’t Mean Nothing<p align="center"><font size="5">░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░</font></p> <p align="center">Buttercup is gone.</p> <p align="center">Outta here.</p> <p align="center">Removed.</p> <p align="center">Missing.</p> <p align="center">In other words:<br><font size="5">No Longer Living At Home.</font></p> <p align="center">She thought (and we agreed) that she needed the experience of living away from home and her mommy before she committed herself to living with another person for eternity.</p> <p align="center">So, she found an apartment and moved out!</p> <p align="center">I’m proud of her for making this decision, but I miss her terribly:</p> <p align="center">I went grocery shopping the weekend she left and I realized I don’t <em>have</em> to buy her favorite cereal any more. (Okay, I still <em>choose</em> to buy it because she doesn’t have a lot of money to buy her own groceries yet!)</p> <p align="center">In the morning, I still wake up suddenly when I realize that I can’t hear her getting ready for school. There were many, many times I’d frantically run down to her bedroom to wake her up because she overslept or missed her alarm. <br>I still have that impulse to bolt out of bed at 6:30 if I don’t hear her.</p> <p align="center">I listen to Pandora Radio through my BluRay DVD player and one of the channels I have programmed is Broadway music. (It also plays a lot of Disney and Glee songs.) I can’t tell you how many of those songs remind me of my girl!<br>The song that plays that most, that can make me sit down and bawl because I miss my girl so much is <em>You’ve Got a Friend in Me</em> by Randy Newman. <br>It’s from the first <em>Toy Story</em> movie.<br>That song was from her first dance recital when she was in kindergarten.<br>Even after all these years, I can see my sweet little girl, in her white tu-tu with silver stars and pink ballet slippers dancing while the teacher told them the steps:<br>”Heel….<br>Toe….<br>Heel….<br> Plié ….”</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gQi36KRhvYvs73hvk7Dzxh0G-xzT4VLOU3KSNNPKvUh4fXYTipxAEIF0lmEAmrIpphnQU_KtfSaDuo-LvbEz5HVuKQAfL3_8ZJLBJstD272GZz3NtIPeMzNcDG_sX7KzKwstRlWxVspV/s1600-h/Alyssa_35%252520%2525282%252529%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Alyssa_35 (2)" border="0" alt="Alyssa_35 (2)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnr6C8FXBFQDq_XHY-R9JfFCx2dfgSx_g12-GLCTR6Jos_fjuzq5UIWcyPzKMtycmLZKWwB5mqkNWuU2o0mfAsXFUrQdxmISrz4RgpaRi82_SZtIHGEArgiiJdRnFXuHnd00Mpwk52u8h/?imgmax=800" width="254" height="469"></a></p> <p align="center">Even though she spent most of her days and nights at school and work, and she hasn’t spent a lot of time at home in the past year, the house seems unnaturally quiet.<br>She was never a real chatterbox or an “in-your-face” kind of girl, but I can <em>feel</em> that she’s not here anymore.</p> <p align="center">Someone said to me at church on Sunday:<br><font size="5">”Motherhood. It’s the career that if we do it right, we work ourselves right out of a job.”</font></p> <p align="center">So, here’s my question:<br>Is it this hard on EVERY mom who says goodbye to a child when they move out?<br>Is it a secret “Mother’s Code” to not talk about it, and how sad it leaves you?<br><br>Or am I just a big cry baby?<br><br>Do I notice it more because I don’t have a house full of kids?<br>Do I notice it more because it’s only me and Inigo in this house that once seemed too small but now seems too big?</p> <p align="center">One mom I was talking to said her mom rejoiced when a kid moved out, because she had 8 kids and it made life so much easier at home when they left.</p> <p align="center">I guess I don’t understand that.</p> <p align="center">I recently found this quote:<br><font size="6">“Grown don't mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What's that suppose to mean? In my heart it don't mean a thing.”</font> ~Toni Morrison</p> <p align="center">(Well said, Ms. Morrison!)</p> <p align="center">I read to Inigo every night. And when we get done reading, he climbs into my lap to hug and kiss me good night.<br>When I say good night and I love you to him, I find that I’m reverting back to saying it the way Buttercup said it when she was little.<br><br><font size="5">”I’ll You!”<br></font>was the way she said “I love you,” until she was about 4 and starting to talk more clearly.</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">“I’ll You, Buttercup!!”</font></p> <p align="center"><font size="5">░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ │ ░ </font></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-91374477648577338012011-09-07T10:07:00.001-06:002011-09-07T10:07:03.888-06:00Still Gloomy<p align="center">Remember in June when I wrote <a href="http://chellianne.blogspot.com/2011/06/gloom-despair-and-agony-on-me.html" target="_blank">this post</a> about all the bad luck we’ve been having?</p> <p align="center">Well, the bad-luck-sisters are still playing with our life string!! And they are having<br>waaaaay too much fun with it!<br>At night, when I go to sleep, I can hear them cackle and laugh while they wad it up and throw it back and forth to each other.<br>They are tying it in knots and lassoing each other with it.<br>They play jump rope for hours with it.<br>They are displaying too much gaiety if you ask my opinion.</p> <p align="center">Let’s fill you in on what’s happened since my posting on June 29:</p> <p align="center">* Buttercup ended up in the ER with severe abdominal pain. This was only an hour <strong><em><font size="6">after</font></em> </strong>an emergency visit to Community Care in Florin.<br>(Max and I were out of town, so we didn’t have a lot of control over the situation. We probably wouldn’t have taken her to ER. We would have waited to see if the previous dr.’s diagnosis and treatment worked. They diagnosed her with an intense bladder infection.)</p> <p align="center">* Buttercup ends up having a CAT scan and having more blood work taken. The ER docs think it’s appendicitis. (Sound familiar?)</p> <p align="center">* Finally, about 2 am I get a phone call that says she has a cyst and that’s what’s causing her pain. It should burst on it’s own and no further treatment is needed.</p> <p align="center">I’ll sum up:</p> <p align="center"><font size="5">In two months time, two people in my family had two separate ER visits with two separate CAT Scans.</font></p> <p align="center">And here’s the kicker:</p> <p align="center">Our insurance, that I was so happy to write about on June 29, has <font size="6">DENIED</font> all our medical claims. The medical care we sought was “out of network” so they are refusing to pay. But they are so generous in applying all the costs to our deductible, which IMO is incredibly high for an employer sponsored insurance program.<br>GREAT. <br>Super.<br>Nice Insurance people.</p> <p align="center">I have to ask the question:<br><font size="5">”WHAT IS THE POINT OF PAYING MY INSURANCE PREMIUM EVERY MONTH IF THE STUPID INSURANCE PEOPLE WON’T PAY MY MEDICAL BILLS?”</font></p> <p align="center">I could go on and on,<br>but I won’t.</p> <p align="center">There’s even more bad luck.</p> <p align="center">Back in June, I wrote that we had accumulated 6 flat tires during the course of this year.<br>Now that it’s September, I am “happy to announce” that we can add</p> <p align="center">(drumroll please…..)</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">TWO MORE<br></font>flat tires to the count!<br><br>Seriously.<br><br>We had the 8th flat over Labor Day weekend while we were up at my parent’s cabin in Montana.<br>It wasn’t a total on-the-ground flat, but air was leaking enough that Max and my dad were worried that it would be completely flat by the time I made the 2 hour drive back to Florin. And with holiday traffic, it wasn’t worth the risk to go totally flat on the highway, so we put the spare on before I headed home.</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRti-xT4XdLgs_KaaBGY1MmlXwZLmxQ81t0ukS8OEBEpRvMNtokVA3O-JoqaZMRDbeNQmXmj4zVQcJC4dfl6-QZVeaoq0CXd6r9BOtIcuV6oQQfzMhggX1-fV5s6d-fkUEPgzHziTBb1YU/s1600-h/DSC_0476%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0476" border="0" alt="DSC_0476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPUrBJHO080kBTVtAwNwWxUoEM3a2nstZU7zN7DUbA1BuqNrzOwR-SLfgnzg66trgMIY-K2h2e0mU4vHQCmZ2lN6YdIb0NnxgnU13j5-VL9bRpE2TnTmaMqfkZeLedr8mn4ihAPxwCNjB/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="339"></a></p> <p align="center">While we were there, my dad noticed his tire was looking low, so he got out the air compressor and filled it up. While he was putting tools away, I could still hear air coming out of the compressor and I thought that was weird since the compressor was completely turned off.</p> <p align="center">Turns out it was<em><strong> his tire</strong></em> that was leaking air.<br>There was a <font size="5">HUGE</font> hole in it!</p> <p align="center">So, before we left the cabin, we had to change <em>another</em> tire!<br><br>(This tire is NOT added to my totals, even though I feel our bad luck is starting to rub off on other people.)</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7R3AD9DQZM8y2rO_POOEcmEDNZr-eSebaNkCqWSaRkRkubuhZBfGAbZooIotHOjI-MXCpFODrueeOzyogxo0ZCa7feJ4urrqVg1g09PUk2N2Q-0pzDXpOdBn2hwQyKg3ixks1Wy90wLr/s1600-h/DSC_0489%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0489" border="0" alt="DSC_0489" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-yYg1DaX9RsGyT3zFhO1hTYEZfhiu-qY2V3Khi-W_NAJqGEtG0sfMQjsbeddCxgrTQsvvm_dZ6iHd2PMlXgetpR9nb1QDX5enFhQ_ldYsjf5UcGg8hFqTY_yTO8ioHZexoWT2w3-smTU/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="339"></a></p> <p align="center">Add to this list: <br><font size="5"> </font><font size="6">Buttercup’s car.<br></font>She drives an OLD (1991) Chevy Corsica. <br>Yes, her car is older than she is.<br>She likes to point that out.<br>But, I say, at least she has something that has 4 tires and a steering wheel!<br><br>She has had some trouble with it.<br>The “serpentine belt” broke and all the equipment that goes along with it had to be replaced.<br>Also the alternator.<br>$400 in repairs in a car that cost $800.<br>Oh, she had a flat tire too.<br><br>(It’s included in the flat tire total.)</p> <p align="center">We are also having some mechanical problems with the Tahoe.<br>* We need new shocks<br>* The battery is wearing out<br>* Something is up with the fuel injector<br>* The catalytic convertor needs replaced</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">WILL SOMEONE PLEASE GRAB THE BAD-LUCK-SISTERS AND KNOCK THEM IN THE FACE?!?!</font></p> <p align="center"><font size="6">************************</font></p> <p align="center">I usually try to be upbeat and positive. <br>Sometimes I just need to vent.<br>I’m still trying to follow Max’s<br><font size="5">”LIFE IS GOOD!”</font> motto.</p> <p align="center">*************************************************</p> <p align="center">Max has found two houses in New Florin to look at.<br>One (to purchase) is a new home they are in the process of building.<br>It’s very small and probably cheaply made, but it’s the only thing in our price range.<br>The housing market there hasn’t been hit hard like everywhere else and home prices are still <em>very high</em>.</p> <p align="center">The other home is a rental that is about 3 miles out of town in the country. Rent seems reasonable. But we don’t know what the inside of the house looks like and what condition it is in. Rentals are a rare find, so if we want it, we’ll have to move fast. The house is available October 1.</p> <p align="center">Looks like we’ll finally be making the move.<br>I’m scared and a <strike>little</strike> LOT sad. <br>I knew the day would come when we would leave our happy town and our great friends,<br>and I’ve had more than ample time to prepare,<br>but it’s going to be hard to leave.</p> <p align="center">**************************************************</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">My next post will be happy and upbeat.<br>I promise!</font></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-51975210020907266972011-08-28T22:51:00.001-06:002011-08-28T22:54:42.190-06:00Engagged To Be Marred<p align="center">I decided to save money and take the engagement photos of Buttercup and Biff (his own nickname… I didn’t give it to him). As always, I struggle with lighting, but thankfully I have some fun actions on my Photoshop and I can fix some of the problems. Also, it’s still light in the evenings and the weather is still nice and warm (HOT!) so we can get outside and take pictures all the time.</p> <p align="center">This is the best one I’ve come up with so far.</p> <p align="center">What do you think?</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75DdRSOHqq_mf7ItAB-aGavy4tG4VmM4KrzekV12OYkyw9ZfFpvjzHEnspA6ILiaWxMyHQ72AjkGF3iq1PPYsfmqKSmRWOwXmf0hTq0s2KoX6if9CtJvDnWLQtxL4-MWLb5bbmCfasDKs/s1600-h/Aly-Josh%252520Goofy%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Aly-Josh Goofy" border="0" alt="Aly-Josh Goofy" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTr7a5nWamPS1Pmb-ewEZ5ly-8t20sKCtbu4HSjEb3r_tZDn94yfSKm-BKT3F6GJzEvaxPbR5a5wVIYABZDhltM3Vvuw8TIfZkKoySjffYqxC-hJDoiFgshIMriSdE60dZI1YQs1LcJwzh/?imgmax=800" width="454" height="304"></a></p> <p align="center">I think it brings out the best in them…. ;-)</p> <p align="center">Okay! To be fair, I’ll post a real picture:</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazBGBV3_79YL3w3d0-iJzcAC34u6s0Il8tNAox5WvCFVhfV4ZYZs2zooM2mKw0TJCrGh6syItwXm6_mIytXqEFGIacO8R6ueC5ymIOgpXhnsruEM5ISQhSsafSYo1hlE3LUSSNpUEcMYw/s1600-h/DSC_0286a%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0286a" border="0" alt="DSC_0286a" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytG9bEVeyoPZXXsyhtR8uLTz5XehzhiO2sxfHLJw4MRTpx_SO37O67ADxCRlNrYGaffe5QSi6zJGQUC0vEwjb6Yb7wxAptxg-ako3ddfg1UQ3zqSUtVY6Dl3cw21OihZUV0w16JCdIb5t/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="451"></a></p> <p align="center">We’re just getting started, but I hope to get some great shots!</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-81552057754157025142011-08-28T22:41:00.001-06:002011-08-28T22:41:11.741-06:00Hello 3rd Grade!<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaHJtPFG8FG7x25n9D-EqTQsUbuYQRhHlFZbT8o5smzClk4w5cHOCiDJ4qhsQ8p6EjgRZSuKiZhiuZiOTB1klJvE-mJiyDL5W5xErojijdUhRMFXbbk9932fI44HcS816tMgAfBuaUGgCQ/s1600-h/DSC_0285%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0285" border="0" alt="DSC_0285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFP3gZmUnZbrMFwlj3VT8xQ0TuY3caoxusaGhY1_NekAhEU-OjiZYULWfHYV5ORG5rYjasBTyZ3h83UYx8K3n9aqSFjKrfsF8FpBw5xoxT5QZms83NIvMpBv_qzgReewvduMRjdIa8DKs/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="600"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUY9aPqmYnmBRpW3_lKC0eVSCeOd4BWxDDot0SH3Nn-2Tgmvjcaav7ImoRiPUPpm0cASt5DJ9FVSMuEZi_dTSZMqUEwV9nA_bTz5v35GY0_oDDCmkz-mzyU4t0rPts_SRdu1svrw5uq6s/s1600-h/DSC_0288%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0288" border="0" alt="DSC_0288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshsOOME6wZ9a9k2YvOLdGihtvns-1voDd5DnE1DTUlJF4YxCNlLH2xTGSdnZNSe14q-xOz7WF9snAI5ZveSbO3WhGQ0N4dK4W031cPV_3DScAufjPiso0bFdvBP9MYezvquSQNCGbKUNL/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="600"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2QSwMNNx1O3uoUF0S13yg-K4gwn1Z1PP4iazlIFiZy3aNJm9jlERR402gzuXARqNtqwn1qdhIEt35U4Hv5yebWru695RgDQ5I1egbpFHVkQY5Dab3czmSib0N0PRzHOoiqyAC9_WnuuL/s1600-h/DSC_0289%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0289" border="0" alt="DSC_0289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YgLQgx9G2T65By3iAawM8kRpjVaGL-C2dh8OXqwwAZpUKre_UfAzJB3iSrKqsJQRPKvOpPCfoV8JBUXG80UQJJo8lhaOjNBc6OrStqjeh3IrYoObOtHagE-lEZdxxFSAmyAt5UYnbUOi/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="205"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojATIPvYJOwcXcg80RFwh0Nl9opMmWyUnNtnHUITv0kx22sKrmOo3uxUpOhjHDa-ahoBC97JeW72DE_QSbaEfkL6E1yNuP199QYeew4tO3llcl2sdZUXHgOKMrSgFM6cNQ6tVbTCQSxjl/s1600-h/DSC_0290%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0290" border="0" alt="DSC_0290" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dF8J5fpLgj4OnrZgVXS1ILobmN7rOdta4Zriqvg_q3gmudbRZgOYuR7Oc8Zkie29PgsmqsiKVB5k0xARkQig6tXLYRPgM4jqWqAIbDE5ijalYIE6wzbXoEOZGCz1iGWXKX2y8yiS3F3O/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="188"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhia-JvhnCg0W7oHogrg2uSFrdJji2A5F2C4c1H0Cwabqu2p_EHK_IF8vmyQj_WqA61Y6Mrhz5f76FzBY8uhAB3rZ9ucTNwIG-I4S1MFeIN8OUJnNpJL8bEYn8szojG7fu7lxYWEUrT_tv0/s1600-h/DSC_0291%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0291" border="0" alt="DSC_0291" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6GXc4PKKIBCWJlZgLm9wnN0QPnghFqMcyV-UhDNRKcmzJSNvfLFAZUBzzn6eVctDQ7Hh7O9MTmBAxmSRMl1n6VL1BPkBhp-bQLM7rl9w9vKavQvWzo28oaF95iGxivLiMiXMnGCfeAAM/?imgmax=800" width="279" height="188"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQuDlW66ss1GPom51f4_kn2QqyvYWBbI_Y-mzqDvLkDBeRVi1Xa4A8BjpjSVOG2UXuECLN4fvV2M3A_7-osp2-hh4WWH91vyssdBLXOQlZw58Vpj-t6wozbrI8dSURIyzzly81xk7BW0H/s1600-h/DSC_0292%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0292" border="0" alt="DSC_0292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkcgmqFRTbyApeHTRfFiBp10pDLjqSuTzdWVXsisHdiJl4JXbaENsmrqxs-OzmrF5aCMd83g3UOlq1UZ6WxZgpdKvmeosNVNCWFIGcAvfTNMwOZ3PPWetfvUzTKxe8XHhhEXPX67rhQLL/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="205"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5spnLFxrhMd1oy8dTT2UEopbufOMUZMYfsRXPuXAJni9Hb3tbOwzhulvqowoxuwBZq_A_miKjRD_3jxbgl_vlL0BwYHIF_1BcHc9Qmk6wBMs-f9f63WRKWX1orRTLpzhRTH5xfPa3ZCrI/s1600-h/DSC_0297a%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0297a" border="0" alt="DSC_0297a" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiiSzE8Pf61Wmlw2v5pA3B0bxJOhOWKycWWvhEka9lZHZQG8QYDS3ztlnndNBDnDxsRol1fMmfHDLXNpIw_vm-KHF8VHplsCOjcNsglYQDWRyrJ22o9-1AfD2Oe1EwOvKiJ4Qx_35NFZmk/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="600"></a></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-19580036759068859512011-08-26T16:12:00.001-06:002011-08-26T16:12:23.581-06:00You Are… My Biggest Fan<p><font size="2">(For all you <em>That Thing You Do</em> fans out there, this is twice in a row I’ve quoted this movie. I think maybe it’s time to pop it into the DVR and watch it!)</font></p> <p>It’s no secret that Inigo is a HUGE fan of Michael Jackson.</p> <p>I mean <font size="6">HUGE!!!</font></p> <p>So much of a fan, that when we went shopping for school clothes, the one and only thing on his list was to find a Michael Jackson t-shirt.</p> <p>We scoured the mall, up the halls and down. In the stores and out. JC Penney, Sears, Old Navy and Hot Topic (I made him hide his eyes in Hot Topic).</p> <p>Nothing.</p> <p>Nada.</p> <p>Zilch.</p> <p>Ok, so maybe Michael Jackson fashion is a year or two old. He died two years ago, after all. It’s sooooo not the happenin’ thing anymore! :)</p> <p>But my boy is -and remains- a die-hard fan. He goes to sleep listening to his music, he practices the moon walk, he reads books about MJ. You get the picture.</p> <p>Anyway, Inigo was terribly disappointed that we couldn’t find a shirt for him. And I felt bad that he felt bad. That was just too much bad feeling in our car on our way from Guilder to Florin! So we devised a plan. We decided we would design and print up our very own MJ t-shirt.</p> <p>Inigo gave me suggestions, told me what he was envisioning and I opened up Photoshop and Google Images and tried to implement his plan. The next day we took the jump drive with the saved design on it to our local screen printing shop and ….<br><br><font size="6">VOILA!!!!</font></p> <p>I think we came up with a pretty decent shirt! </p> <p>And the best part is, it’s one of a kind, original, designed by Inigo. It doesn’t get any better than that.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkg2cfudhw1377WPLKUDytFKyaRf8mPpA_QYzsWWl_MXrkT51LxtAyl3USJ4XsqF06p4SRvGFuLdndOknurZKRiVHBgn4Af_sZ15ULysWdRA7n3y4C9A3thHDq3bUt74_U6hKOe67l2UHm/s1600-h/Adam%252520MJ%252520T-shirt%25255B1%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Adam MJ T-shirt" border="0" alt="Adam MJ T-shirt" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBr0IGw9nd-J_bl1F-veZGCKWDRWGIp_JVc6bWn-WwU8RuC02rKo4xdaqb7hDivqQKv2Srt4ZMTIxskgqyLsmuAlX6fMokPfOD_wivn14oZGuznpeLGU87p8ZSo7XU3ykpyRVqnzvwBVZr/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="715"></a></p> <p>(I took this picture with my phone in the glare of the morning sun. He tried his hardest to keep his eyes open, but he just couldn’t do it.)</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-36928148280571937792011-08-23T15:00:00.001-06:002011-08-23T15:04:25.753-06:00Blue Ribbon!<p align="center">In the movie <em>That Thing You Do</em> (one of the <font size="5">BEST</font> movies EVER, IMHO) there’s a scene where Lenny says, “I’m not with them, I’m with the piggin’ competition down at the pavilion and <font size="6">I’M GOING TO WIN THAT BLUE RIBBON!!”</font></p> <p align="center">Well, at our county fair I won a blue ribbon too… only it wasn’t in the piggin’ competition.</p> <p align="center">Inigo and I entered a couple photos in the photography exhibit. </p> <p align="center">Inigo got a new Nikon point and shoot camera for his birthday a couple days before the fair, so we went out and had a quick lesson in composition and holding still while you press the shutter release and took some pics that we felt were good enough to enter.</p> <p align="center">I went through my files (I have <em>thousands</em>) and picked two pics that I liked.<br>We had them printed up and mounted them on mat board and submitted them to be scrutinized by the critical eye of judges and the community.</p> <p align="center">And then we waited….</p> <p align="center">Judging was supposed to take place Thursday night, but it happened on Wednesday night.<br>A neighbor stopped by on Thursday afternoon and said, “I saw your picture! You won a ribbon!”</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">SWEET!!</font></p> <p align="center">It’s what I was hoping for.<br>Having a stranger judge my picture, telling me they like it feels very good.<br>(Having my friends and family tell me they like some of my pics <br>is gratifying, but they kind of <em><u>have</u></em> to say they like my pics. <br>Right?)</p> <p align="center">Anyway, when we went to check things out on Friday, I was expecting a ribbon, but was expecting a white, Third-Place ribbon.<br><br>Inigo was expecting nothing but blue, because he is young enough he <br>doesn’t have any self-doubt built into his self esteem.</p> <p align="center">We both squealed in delight when we finally found our photos.</p> <p align="center">Inigo won two third place ribbons!<br>We’re pretty excited since this was his first competition!!<br>(He wasn’t disappointed at all that he didn’t win a blue.)</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBtYW3drJVBqEr8w_Zw3vzbZvrjhqINnlBoj7BuiJO8GwbyNNq-QzwxjZ16Ee8xg81RLy7ftZbGCs2xFqktQIazIJRhNPafVrYD-wqeocaNAmqUmvoqn0o6AceVi-CuiL2428f7mU3TBY/s1600-h/IMG_3277%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlb3rqfwTP19N-T2PyWPb4obwcPIOF8FPF1g90LishtRXkdIhYeunYln4rfh-YWFHbxfhm6sZWuYiCNuMDjQ3MiKw4Cu8ANJq2Xqut9kXq2QqhNcYqNMaz-4UNWeTXWfw0XX-NsfIH6sh/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="529"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLNqCuaANwxbyU-5M_ARKM_z1PHJ-aFDQMwCeOYef9ovfvubw1yD0ciC3eQCj6mq1kB9mjdzEAyn__FMVshODEsNjc4moOzvdTsYiYRz580PPqtFarJyC2WWTfWmEosJrNZ5beSQ1bEv5/s1600-h/IMG_3278%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4mr30OQdUNrEt2jXCa6dQALDVL0BcDthnIvJKwaTb6CbyAf6LMs5DM557_YhdQHIfRERYbArM-oVD9jsNbZTJO7pPR8D0gn779ozWmaE6sOxQbE-DMpe06AI6Y4oSh8o-8wGyuSRa8OB/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p align="center">I won a blue ribbon and a (very) small amount of money for this shot. <br>I’m so glad I did. This is one of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken<br>and I felt validated that the judges liked it too.</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeO83Yk0AgeCpDkf_PMB6S2_vZ98bL7b6HOi1IDxXrUMDm9lfEYk4STxWfiOzCrFdS6fwXKhVochqn7cISAIBEgawhUSXzx8I8l4Ts3aiUA5JUMOERUXbRRCtz1jhlvoWh6OvJjSt-WcSV/s1600-h/IMG_3275%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuVstPXc9vroKuH4eEbOoitXqWQtsh6q0JOv-rPigrF3yClYoJpKzz5o97LgmYj8yN1BuwrO7W16ku6ZiN4jLijx0ihEG8DsoJxhKYkIJfjRz3zVvQxhQd505jT8D-aDReCtW-eu-Iinu/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="304"></a></p> <p align="center">This is the second photo I entered. No awards with this one. :(<br>Oh well. <br>You can’t win ‘em all!</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7ufmRRooQZxY9wHEXDfaNE1UB6dYjfpYY-JVkl_kq_TCtB2dUHFfAkjMo68M3vH95tZ4V6DLuNEYFNfRwswDz5E1fQ8nYgC2XJDQ2-UTuMBRmZBwSOOzSb8pi8BFQPB3P-sxDWrvd2Rj/s1600-h/IMG_3279%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjhijLAOudrRGz31wz-u5bU8qJ64d9jLqWLTalYPtMEjtp6W7A3Pamf9KdwZK3_Ulr_qyLAI4-9v43vZxrZP9SdGeMiRV1Kzo6DPQ1bQFz1Bwg5CVWc__66NPiiadoVe6P4Qi-9mFjzsBB/?imgmax=800" width="164" height="244"></a></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-21734502301844754772011-08-22T00:39:00.001-06:002011-08-22T00:45:30.383-06:00The End<p align="center">School starts this week.</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">BOO HOO!!!</font></p> <p align="center">I have friends who count down the days from May to Sept. They can’t wait until their kids step back on that school bus in their fancy new clothes, carrying their backpack and lunchbox. On the contrary, I spend that first morning in deep mourning: total depression and utter loneliness crowding into my thoughts. I also have thoughts (or reminders) of all the fantastic adventures we were able to accomplish and crowd into the summer months, as well as think longingly of the many activities we didn’t quite get to. I ALWAYS wish we had two or three more weeks before starting the grind again.</p> <p align="center">This year is different. Buttercup is at the <em>END</em> of her schooling adventure. September marks one year since she began cosmetology school and Oct. 1 marks the day she walks out of those doors for good. Inigo is starting third grade here in Florin, but probably won’t finish it here. He’ll finish it in New Florin with a whole new group of friends and adventures…hopefully all positive and wonderful. </p> <p align="center">Max was in town for the weekend, so he gave the traditional start of school year blessings. Yes, that’s a plural. Even though Buttercup isn’t beginning a new school year, she’s beginning a new phase of life (moving out, getting married, starting a career) and we thought a father’s blessing would be highly appropriate. Inigo LOVES getting father’s blessings, so he was first in line. It was a good way to end a Sunday evening and a nice send-off as he heads back to Florin for another week of work. </p> <p align="center">This post shows some of the fun things we did this summer:<br><br><font size="6">╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ ╚ </font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XDn-G5SKWLgXEQKUq-wwP0uBYOEjIASwQIdXyhnfVnECSRnMmMPJdbzp5-CNH4cxmnZeKYv2PRG0mfO5qGP5tb7EPxzSjiZTIl2pi5zBsjVan5h5LP-5B2vb0DSnsYe0xtJ8RyUIKZlo/s1600-h/DSC_0036%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0036" border="0" alt="DSC_0036" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFYDxWK5vsVTDtBVFbVdVG5ST-AXMeh-b9TEPUzbNUs1qDU8sYkrx32Poghyphenhyphenmq5ebF28eQDoILBNcq1KS3-A65Eurpa5mHWf4xbz8YJKb_21IDFFl1ArnF1wkboD17tSY-ZiA2GYIUPLc/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="526"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvjTW-9dOOt9KXbvcyt0IEuMszSPj7yZdDb_YaMfYHRD6yHPDyQl-jAGGsZUgbNvGA62kDRz54zOwagTya4YKe3kYPtzeM8sSC_PivIW1_XtEuS5X83GDnxlSmqwfZGAnwR2fmSSG147R/s1600-h/IMG_2454%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; 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border-right-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0404" border="0" alt="DSC_0404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FBtI-aRL_1dbE-P0_jjc8j9qNljAfRxcWAGqSFIoupE7zwXVdG6MhHsoUVSZO3J6Sib-r4dfbNREJeCPmhYlfxj74Qmtv19BtIwtOEs5DZ06q7r-9WHMXdurFsnIHSL8FsJ9GM5tHRgo/?imgmax=800" width="321" height="217"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_Umv6gsxcerbVNLRlVtmM4YFba0kZY7b2-WUUpcqpU4vyZzaIq2x-cKXO_okhH40QSGrDQgSoRZ3kkD7aowDTlc4dQhk1aSxFY2MVsUeT6iqj1L7rHdaFdAbbcvxczxiiLpJLjnEd16f/s1600-h/DSC_0417%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0417" border="0" alt="DSC_0417" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlTWCCSMCBZ9ebSN7CgQpg4X3K7aHDCa4S49-8qJfTZ3iA5GC7MjYe6cEuRdIsZBW8gYzwbvS9qD8pW_KEgFA7jGoZUbJBaLUUmxZAirnAxhSfykH1d_Z7M3LIr57z3w5kUrSAiWHZb-U/?imgmax=800" width="404" height="272"></a></p> <p align="center">(No camping pictures because we didn’t make it out! :(<br>We’re hoping to finally sleep outside over Labor Day weekend!)</p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-35304727991053527622011-08-03T14:02:00.001-06:002011-08-03T14:13:54.204-06:00J-j-j-j-jealousy<p align="center">Approximately 9 days ago, Inigo challenged my 22 year old neighbor, <br>T-man, to a race with RC cars.</p> <p align="center">The date was set (8/02/11).</p> <p align="center">The time was determined (6:30 pm).</p> <p align="center">The racetrack was determined (across the street).</p> <p align="center">Inigo invited friends and family to come watch the duel. He practiced for hours beforehand.</p> <p align="center">6:30 was looming closer and closer.</p> <p align="center">Anticipation.</p> <p align="center">Electricity.</p> <p align="center">Suspense was hanging in the air.</p> <p align="center">Ooops.</p> <p align="center">Everyone was still eating dinner at 6:30.</p> <p align="center">The race was postponed until 6:45.</p> <p align="center">Anticipation.</p> <p align="center">Electricity.</p> <p align="center">Even more suspense.</p> <p align="center">You could cut it with a knife.</p> <p align="center">T-man’s cousins were in town. A family with 10 kids to cheer him on.</p> <p align="center">Steck came over to help me cheer Inigo on.</p> <p align="center">As the race began, 15+ people began chanting “T-man! T-man! T-man!”<br><br>2 people began chanting, “Inigo! Inigo! Inigo!”</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOg_j7h2G_w6sNgwU83NbGRW6zKHl_PEGN42qRxTUkBIaE4j_xqt_eaf5P54p0snPMRlwVdqah5EluhbhlZyDaL-qI8vp42HeKhWt4Qs6V9-kOw9XPw3e3tCn1t9HkDMg8Z_3dvDH8yQ8/s1600-h/IMG_3197%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FjBH4MszM-h7AlpsO99vNqhKbPOM_kyX-R_dWdIp4EejXOM_IM9oYy-v3bkKN-gHZ7tIMkJ5Zy0B_4yI5z4JqcHDV0CwRxp_Vjo7acMyJ6fC91bXbh0aMppSyAnC8WEeUJwE9pVT74Jd/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p align="center">AND THEEEEEY’RE OFF!!</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF9Z-5OXC-jTrfTwA9GLXjUxsg7rK1cThp3mPRxV4cUddcQV9_JvTsxsfL1Rp2DvFEmEaxT2xo-VYZO9I_-V1gpyIKk5rXiJ-Hc7KwyciiP8z7tnbsMsvPJB-SoHP_j7hilCHWk5-ISq5x/s1600-h/IMG_3203%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisceRLjnbLtL_hS1Pi0iYJtmC2kl5mcfIl-js4ZwfQArmi2H_B55Av5iHyON4lumjt974eAm6mT_SmM3VxMb3WrnGRPm_Me6oTsX3JRJCXkkDhyphenhyphenkKmpOejEJpeFlpBUMKdB82WCde4ki8l/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p align="center">OFF AND RUNNING!</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivchp2VFghImkzcjQoaXcsYW5lQMUZhwlAHl10QY5ttwbKNEd9TVr113QD5q71MXmrdID9kozUt1AM30wkeicHEozU5JIPwnbn67h2UVc3HUmtK0TOt2qS5xH_bUgGmH7zz7f75uirtXet/s1600-h/IMG_3200%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWtgCCMd1erQI7UUIZedRg9K-9LqQenh-oT95T1t2aomCvtkUUI3Y_lTqtbgxRWCjweaokbYTPFjMXNwFBBE0B-YptRCiyHs_531zCToxoY2zpdgB47BO7NK40QfkM_JqnWl7ZmM4E896/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p align="center"><font size="6">GO INIGO!!!</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUVgyNvU4x_f27k2dZctFLKtSwaLqJudNra36-QTYz-2x7598aenV5Tn5gnZOczjMLynwtjU18oOaB8gzF_7ZsrGVlqmRGwvBWTnFymyRFYGBl8xG9DmrVwppdAQiRN4fLI7mErh8R11sY/s1600-h/IMG_3202%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7Y_vj1kA8Da-6FqjpzKQOGto2XDhhl3XrPLwhT0_7bER7HghjNOg2KR-KR_CkKRIhulpNt2S9kjuV_zcBY6wL6oekskySy67EUUSiHH02QJE0He9Hp78IwWYf0Q5UENGfY6bUddLJGfQ/?imgmax=800" width="354" height="471"></a></p> <p align="center"><font size="6">GO T-MAN!!!</font></p> <p align="center">And the results?</p> <p align="center">Inigo won of course.<br>By a landslide.</p> <p align="center">Poor T-man’s car would go sideways and backwards as much as it would go forward.<br>I’ve never seen a RC car like that before.<br><font size="4">It was just too much car for him!!</font> (he he he)</p> <p align="center">To be fair, when they switched cars, T-man won the race.</p> <p align="center">Winning boosted Inigo’s ego a lot.</p> <p align="center">Maybe too much.</p> <p align="center">Later, after we went inside Inigo (who was in a jubilant/winning mood) ran up the stairs and yelled at me,</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">“YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK? <br>I THINK YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS!”</font></p> <p align="center">I yelled back in a questioning tone of voice,<br><font size="6">”Of what?”</font></p> <p align="center">He yelled back as if the answer was completely clear,</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">“ME!!!”</font></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-31342469342149197762011-08-03T11:42:00.001-06:002011-08-03T11:53:32.561-06:00Please Sir, May I Have S’more?<p>Some people tell me I’m a picky eater. </p> <p>I guess I am. It’s easier and faster to make a list of foods that I like as opposed to the list of foods that I don’t like.</p> <blockquote> <p>Fish – UGH!! If something filters air out of water to survive, it doesn’t cross these lips.<br>Pizza – I know!! Who doesn’t like pizza, right?<br>Spaghetti – Ditto to the pizza statement. I honestly think it’s the red sauce/marinara sauce. Blech.<br>Vegetables – I like <em>some</em> vegetables. Only the extra starchy/carby veggies though. </p></blockquote> <p>Just to name a few.</p> <p>Monday night I had some friends take me to a Thai restaurant here in town. They have tried for YEARS to get me just to walk through the doors. Chinese/Asian food doesn’t sit well with me, plus I heard that Thai food has a lot of spicy curry in it… NO GOOD!! But since the parade we were attending was getting rained out and we needed to get dry, I agreed to go.</p> <p>When the server came to take my order I just asked for a glass of water. But they brought me a small plate so I could do some taste testing. I was very brave and tried a few bites. I will admit, <em>some </em>of it was good, but there were also several bites that sent shivers down my spine. :)</p> <p>Let me reiterate: <font size="5">I AM A PICKY EATER!!!</font></p> <p>Brownies are something I am very picky about. </p> <p>Call me a “Brownie Snob.”</p> <p>I <font size="4">DO NOT</font> and <font size="4">WILL NOT</font> eat brownies that are made from a packaged mix. </p> <p align="center"><font size="6">Auck. Gack. ARGH!</font></p> <p align="left">I like brownies that are a little more “cake-y.” Meaning I like them fluffy and light. I don’t like brownies purchased from a bakery, or a grocery store bakery. They always look better than they taste and they are always thick and dense.</p> <p align="left">When I came up on this brownie recipe <font size="1">(Taste of Home)</font> I was THRILLED with it! Not only is it fast and easy, but the brownies are light and fluffy… just the way I like them.</p> <p align="left">But a plain old brownie gets boring after a while. I needed to change them up. And I came up with what I think is a WINNER!!!</p> <p align="center"><font size="6">S’more Brownies!!</font></p> <p align="left">I know…… right?</p> <p align="left">Man, oh man….. they were a little bite of heaven right there in my kitchen. Seriously. They were gobbled up in a FLASH! </p> <p align="left">I encourage you to give them a try. </p> <p align="left"><u><font size="4">S’more Brownies<br></font></u>2 c sugar<br>1 3/4 c flour<br>1/2 c cocoa (I use Dutch cocoa)<br>1 tsp salt<br>5 eggs<br>1 c vegetable oil<br>1 tsp vanilla<br>1 c chocolate chips</p> <p align="left">In a mixing bowl, combine the first seven ingredients; beat until smooth. (I just use a wooden spoon. I don’t think you need a mixer to make this recipe.) Pour into a greased 13x9” cake pan. Sprinkle with chocolate chips. Bake at 350 ° for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean.</p> <p align="left"><font size="2">(That is the basic brownie recipe that I got from <em>Taste of Home</em>. This is where I changed things up. S’mores made with Hershey Bars are good, but in my opinion, the best s’mores are made with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups!! So I decided leave off the chocolate chips and top 1/2 of the brownies with Hershey Bars and the other 1/2 with Reese’s.)</font></p> <p align="left">3 Hershey Chocolate Bars<br>1/2 bag of Reese’s Miniature Peanut Butter Cups<br>Chopped into small pieces<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2tTzoipghmGiMFalbe5TquUe8N31gmtwwHi4NJ6Dj1gJMQkElnVzixCQczJEs7ur6DsBAnAm2DzyWHZSbXq3ikYj3Mvw99rztuZKOhGVY_7VPtCMSPj24wMNPVev6x23KwBKMGdWqiXs/s1600-h/S%252527more%252520Brownies%252520%2525285%252529%25255B9%25255D.jpg"></p><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="S'more Brownies (5)" border="0" alt="S'more Brownies (5)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTHT4Qd5pVRhprDgK7oqLtjm2o9cedyp_fVz1U9c5ZAi5tGD0_vL9cuyF7H8fuKxYDqTCK4DalRHLJ5bbiDsFfUBGcnhq60JaTmo91yDS4UThlFnj-UcVnz0UD6I9Px__jBSqLDK8GBJm/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="229"></a> <p align="left">1/2 bag of miniature marshmallows<br>3 – 5 graham crackers, broken into small pieces</p> <p align="left"><u>BEFORE BAKING</u> the brownies, liberally sprinkle the graham crackers and candy bars on top. <br>Start baking the brownies for 20 minutes. <br><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqee_HXXy5QDU7frz_jrpdZc-QZX797lt3lZf8bQycBmrjDnGZOjTx67U9mXSUmcts1SjMMjZpnkI63iXbFCkaNK1nFIDPGAjCsyu-NhGD1jZy_WBcFGbL97k6Uc0GcbUTip8xdg7VvvC4/s1600-h/S%252527more%252520Brownies%252520%2525286%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="S'more Brownies (6)" border="0" alt="S'more Brownies (6)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89x64gBlEt35oWFzxVS9cdId4cw69h_TAD55JyMQmbogTkGLAXv8tyRSblI1e3_F5_kE6gXkZ8XRBEyAj-Ut2Cvw2S3JpodfyXGS3zFLttoL6-ETom2HAZPgJkScRcgzDduFiB5lCiDQs/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="229"></a>The last 8-10 minutes of baking, however, carefully sprinkle the miniature marshmallows on top and finish baking. (You don’t want the marshmallows on top for the full 30 minutes of baking time. It makes them too hard and crunchy.)</p> <p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFOEgH7DzgP2HPtS06cHJsHcBfkHZkEOUYksGiVlDp-oSWfzK_ZT59T2S3h1SPuK8qSllcxOsP4UiIY-FXgAKid93r-9xnyvDws-Z7fvk2-ZG4b8viiFM9CMdrAwgA50nMLa0Cia94w9H/s1600-h/S%252527more%252520Brownies%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="S'more Brownies (1)" border="0" alt="S'more Brownies (1)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhkfIchuphKzirBgu5nkYzVMuvgkp2bMtddMAMxBZoY6J1m79jLJtgVVfUbS146DCe4NFGOdXnc1WPQWafha66OmT0UEnu-DMTU-3Pp3sp9OH3Dt4dDUq9sk7bwOiJt49ghaoJFYW7Fbp/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="229"></a></p> <p align="left">If you decide to share these yummy treats with your neighbors and friends, I can <em><font size="5">GUARANTEE</font></em> instant popularity. </p> <p align="center"><font size="5">You will be everyone’s <br>favorite friend!!</font></p> <p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-y_86RuhPal6OYeOdGVvD-tbbWwsGi3xlXnLdIQCv4DxqiKGXNhN7vLo-DCmEhAhKvfrAnQCjyP1SlEJpo5HWLO1Ewyhnk4mdX_3qkHpw2oXUzanSVLR_U11txlzi0VkN1dhF5bC4NRM9/s1600-h/S%252527more%252520Brownies%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkczlkCyrFsXGoP-SojcS7n2JZ-LE-jykdKX59-h8CFoRFvFoeUyIf-uFe55pHSLKppk2AlxD-MHj4XEKHc0SgFIsGXz81avV7AluSxStvP07XGy5DtbLnAW7oQalpZOGMzz-oUMY_n-HD/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="404"></a></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-71332547037208858722011-07-27T00:08:00.000-06:002011-07-27T00:08:41.536-06:00New Look<div style="text-align: center;">Ha! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I changed the look of my blog.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I HATED the purple background I had before. So I decided to do something about it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Some of you may think the new look is random.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">But those of you who know where we're moving to, will know differently.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THERE'S A METHOD TO MY MADNESS!</span></div>Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562926390706605662.post-52983248569794165152011-07-26T16:14:00.001-06:002011-07-26T16:14:40.401-06:00Lonely Living<p align="center">Max and I text A LOT. It’s our main form of communication.</p> <p align="center">Frequently, I get a text from him as he leaves work and he says things like,<strong> <br><font size="5">“Going back to Loneliness.”</font></strong></p> <p align="center">What does that mean, you ask?</p> <p align="center">“Loneliness” is what he named his apartment. <br>His bachelor pad. <br>His place of dwelling.</p> <p align="center">Sad, huh?</p> <p align="center">It’s been awful for him to be away from his family this long.<br><br>Believe me, we miss him too, but our situation is different:<br>a) we are in our own familiar house<br>b) we have each other<br>which makes the separation somewhat easier to bear.</p> <p align="center">Since Inigo and I finished our production last week, we decided that since we have <strong><em>so much</em></strong> free time on our hands, we’d jump in the car and drive to New Florin to surprise him.</p> <p align="center">And we actually would have gotten away with it, if <br>a) we had left Florin a little earlier, I could have driven straight to his office and surprised him there<br>or,<br>b) if I actually knew where he lived.<br><br>He had to move out of the house he was renting, so he’s in a new apartment and I didn’t know where it was.<br><br>We texted Max when we were nearing New Florin and said, “Don’t go to the gym tonight because we want to Skype with you.”<br>So, he waited and waited for us to get to a computer<br>(we told him we were en route to Florin from Guilder)<br>while we drove up and down the streets of New Florin looking for the new apartment.</p> <p align="center">Finally, he said, <br><font size="5">“I’m going to the gym now. I won’t be gone very long. We’ll Skype when I get back.”</font></p> <p align="center">Uhhhh……<br><font size="5">”Please don’t go to the gym,”<br></font>I had to text back (or have Inigo text since I shouldn’t be texting and driving)</p> <p align="center">There was a short pause and the reply was, <br><font size="6">“Are you in New Florin?”</font></p> <p align="center">He got up that morning with a feeling that we might be driving over to surprise him.</p> <p align="center">Seriously?<br>Can I EVER surprise that man?</p> <p align="center">In a nutshell, we had a FABULOUS weekend and spent some WONDERFUL time together!<br><br>In a desire to better acquaint ourselves with our new area, <br>we drove over two large mountain ranges that were around 10,000 feet in altitude.</p> <p align="center">We played in creeks, and walked through snowbanks to get to sacred Indian ground.<br>We gazed with awe and wonder at some amazing waterfalls, wondering where <font size="4"><strong>ALL THAT WATER</strong></font> could be coming from.<br>We went swimming in the local swimming pool<br>and walked up and down the Main Street of the nearest<br>”Tourist Trap” town.</p> <p align="center">And I took photos. <br>Tons and tons of photos.<br>So many photos that Inigo started yelling at me.<br><br><font size="6">”STOP TAKING MY PICTURE!!! YOU’RE SUCKING THE HAPPINESS OUT OF ME EVERY TIME YOU DO!!”</font></p> <p align="center">But eventually he started smiling for the lens again.<br>Because he was having fun.<br><br>He didn’t want to drive over the big Bruin Bicuspid Pass<br><font size="1">(don’t you love how I change the names?)<br></font>but in the middle of the teeth clenching drive said, <br>“Wow!! This is amazing!”</p> <p align="center">We missed Buttercup.<br>But she was down at the Shallows <br>(an amusement park south of here)<br>with Biff (her new fiancé) at his family reunion.</p> <p align="center">Hopefully Max’s life was a little less lonely while we were there.<br>And while I’m finding it difficult to leave Florin, I know that being with Max is more important and I’m anxious for our own reunion!</p> <p align="center">Looking forward to the many new adventures that await!</p> <p align="center">░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░ ░</p> <p align="center">Waterfall in the Large Antler Mtn. Range</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAyBeBe24EUV_UocfkfrU-DfU9LWE40QdgOUSCriynrNNKmopaKnYPovilHOQ0W77dNEjQn_cbIjDFad6MPSqMqKn0c9S-70MNp1OJL-WrGImwLBw54LwDHMeXZUyBZzhLqav8l5T0JKjY/s1600-h/DSC_0006%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0006" border="0" alt="DSC_0006" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfdDOnteZ6oEpCPQLEBVVKSDOIRBNWy6ix4OIM7BgxaSvt9FrB2CZQW0NZu4H6OqWrx9ASEDbFyLuYd4P9IOr5OU71zj2RFmxLbe6b044l0VEkCEV-PQyw5KGJ61c88fg_4dLUfnb4_yp/?imgmax=800" width="304" height="451"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPNXN0Xc7L7412dm-kMcBS-yXn6nr90uM-rGDGN4skRjgiuvVdeBV4pmySPCalz6K7rTeUGfe_06WwdSqppXXZ4JXJ1rBMnnEGSUD9DpLPexIn4qlXikQPrOl9JI1d8kTmkNNxGiTO11i/s1600-h/DSC_0013%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0013" border="0" alt="DSC_0013" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYG-09oz7rCkIcR205DGCIsQ_W1DbgR-gAKimMDj_bvCcn7miZvE4XGDJtHpNqqnXlvTTlz26Zkcr19VDrVHW9M2za5meaQtlOE0qJEccuxLkVBqH40dguu8hyphenhyphenbhyCY7u7ZbJqU9Q1B_gK/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPeNNsfU0F9-rf2HDy14j_N0Hk6Q2hg_n9d02HTue2wcSN2S_0igRpJus38gGkE83eMF5LzWC_1fxiDHHgm6m9_FrBTzNeSq-2MgyQDCuBzUZw_2q641QYIpwrnKwl1iVs8rFxrR91P4R/s1600-h/DSC_0029%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0029" border="0" alt="DSC_0029" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1FIB27hT70LjrfkXsQGu5NvC8zJjRRWCGwFrxWkiaTvaA50DYcggq23RONHNbAGxfP5GoXAi0rw93kFM8RG2LiOomBFRTkNQSF-VCpdSRAhK9mf9Nh7uhlgfVCba5k-4C_T2jsDZtdh3/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LSKqEvqJ4Zy7xwJXTZ0z5qQdhGpl87eKU9V3HVEwS7nOcZCqRaIiPTAI63MlzTUrl29GpsbmQOdVU3iIojHi2AVWoN3LoWpv0Wi47WabFt7DS2vOuCrkFQwqr2D_qvREmojD36e8p6tY/s1600-h/DSC_0051%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0051" border="0" alt="DSC_0051" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEKeirbuG-EExlC5jSeCAJFOLlF4MItUNIvYTlYXGwbp5Z24n0GbaQjJ0clg88kFXvOVAeol-_s27IC_9exdRq4WkM7i2n_FdJ6zmguA-mtBOyOuuejslvoHznbvApwDBFytPiue4k9Jh/?imgmax=800" width="504" height="339"></a></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjYHvSVlnjTov6OmzIl277l_1nZ6Fi85ERbGnUz8oap_bJxlwErD7lQZQuEa07be5dCQ0k6VA_Fu_Df4bNfQ5BYbcEEOu16s8d6q5BXfXZ-zeqEBCMs16zMkGh3H6lIdEjlHEtUf_6h5a/s1600-h/DSC_0070%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0070" border="0" alt="DSC_0070" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHv0-SqwaK80qwnd5C2OhXqocYxP8OpwoxUNSFWWVnm07INnteHV_kuZHmk-9wxOjqb2EOeJeYT8UGfMaywI76EKFJyVrHcSQTc1BzX87lx309qm-_Xzc10GLuIrNmykm6f7BfRrXMQKc/?imgmax=800" width="229" height="339"></a><br><br>There is a Native American medicine wheel in these mountains and these are some of the religious relics that you find there.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVvT6_8cSVMf7Dl7o_7Us9aBbZ0mkh40dasBWWG5qNCbETZwtGFFAaBZqVsBNvCuaW0ze6MxXEpdj2Ih7caqdW7frN0Oi8_qpnOVFx1oKx_lcJ1SZXFY9L7DMEUIxPWc9gTVQsZW1_7DQ/s1600-h/DSC_0086%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0086" border="0" alt="DSC_0086" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQ7JR2tYCeiOVlm5I_NlWaAaTmneHD-Z9NKj9Q4Ss3xWicEbMdGtjn8iMgYFv8IG4dERmI-w7uZhMYOVEgo4i3bAhY4mC6GMStOOqkqPcxUOLrUrpW5psaRajrZPmKOV5iQkEoZh-cUY5/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhZylOPxt0fET1H98ddqsxlaOKYIJq9SbNnUxP5ht485Gomd12BU624_rT3_6Bdkg-tJHHwZYCYxtPzYzdNiZx0CANqJablfKKs_DnvZhfz2WLLtQgfPnebkldqEErx5cI4Ds2L2V262M-/s1600-h/DSC_0097%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0097" border="0" alt="DSC_0097" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSU6R26Jz8tfpSt-xu_Nczaawia6MPsXT0mwH_kKtI-dH9RVQ_qDOtZ3a9-fOTEeNCAVGBQwT3nAv4kvVX2Ked6yAUL6YkQXWxSdD5W71osD4kr9RY_I7H6VflLVIw2OtQtm2TrjRaipp/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p align="center">On top of the Bruin Bicuspid Pass.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6EolS8I3ntH4t6lZnBpkl3uCovFy40xRlKp0UfCPk1eBqvGsjXN9i2L0Z6iHRnI2jF5P719H5hxU87UWDpOFthe1rZ4JZp7UEcKSvFscuX0ZI3KGm53lm5C8fMWQJiYjEFAv1tFyFQI0/s1600-h/DSC_0114%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0114" border="0" alt="DSC_0114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCxDLCmn_jCpkq_zi2gWagmzmz2QQEdCbsdlEmvz8b5OxP6ZobnTObgKdlHbyCUYH5Xvek1ynQ-icJ-V1O3WZ7Ld6seIyRXHHBcLeXQWu144xfriqmssZf_J7RcCkTlU19ToXPKkIyUu8/?imgmax=800" width="479" height="323"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtTPc1XebI9klF5yZLUuQG-ZtVxg5LCrq6-RWjBUYaqP-7bwDBZz-vj4y3w2zIYOBesXZ69i6wBUi8XpjBJX8e2WH2yJeDPxq9aC0p8YNqq1GwqE0MGyYjfbhgJ08_f0p3xbnDlh0EoCA/s1600-h/DSC_0136%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: left; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0136" border="0" alt="DSC_0136" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxwelqztXD8vTqUihs3tbaODVkgAeh0bL5cRSrqS1-xGR2JoK7xw3P7jMTwkSb4JFyTZYwW9jgR-uCoE2b8m1O07XmYdd4Q8RxjWH6SzbzDWVXgOoeiXK1WMQdD4IRxPydeBPNzszuIab/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD1IucwrX8eXeH9kWCZg0KQsMx0ShKigzSUVAzSU3Tc3SYp6gEX0ARpXe04t3bIqehWN84YZOEIKdGbLHCiugbJ8YBqu6YXVlIAd-cINGeJzax0vFZYYUOJWOe4akgY1g0TJp66TRpF5B/s1600-h/DSC_0137%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: right; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0137" border="0" alt="DSC_0137" align="right" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpx9Uj9ExvRHh0E9kc0UXSA6LugaGCJn2i9hVgsGCA6hRIITSjGPyk_MgwouvSxsKPvRvNXlLzPd4lm_4TTz1yi0IQJSeH2P3ivst50TmwuvQtB1zYlUieqbrbrN8pvxdaeg9VPO1qREKj/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p align="center">To prolong our time together, we also stopped and walked through a geyser basin in<br>My Park.<br>(Max drove his own vehicle, so he could drive himself back to New Florin while I drove Inigo and I back to Florin. We each got to our respective domiciles at about 11 pm.)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqIL-s-Awumy1187cjcbg5VSXM8a20O30zFmJYEkX3jWRHDHeXs3OhJzBOOWJ2Etj5qvmsesE7qDDJ9ZG9XRMecNvffm5ZHYJRpdoxcyeKoiFKhJRGoabkBXhLnmfHj5OgydTS-OUElLU/s1600-h/DSC_0153%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSC_0153" border="0" alt="DSC_0153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hlPx6RH1p_U80ox1tTZ28-LYlPPbnLof_lf-JOVTpPAyRyR9jLMLb2sXiQE4CGz9oAwCFU8oZqoZP5uDqAT_TjMBiAyrzTLiqQ4V5P32-SPDERrk5lyZ-r1Fix7inMh6HlVGEdVbJmCI/?imgmax=800" width="284" height="421"></a></p> <p align="center">Okay.<br>Here’s the end of all my clever names. :(</p> <p align="center">I wanted to take a picture of Inigo at the same place we took a picture of Buttercup.<br>This was the last time we had driven over this pass – 2002 – and I was only a month or 6 weeks away from delivering Inigo when we drove over.<br>(I can’t believe we drove it that close to my due date! What were we thinking?)<br>You can see our dear, wonderful dog, Bandon in the windshield of Buttercup’s picture.<br>Sadly, he passed away in November of that year.</p> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwft0eYdOsjIJM_XRmgbdK5IbDWMHTijbWOFok9yrwoVUYpO6I_eZ-lF3wBNXSIdCrBtkZgQ60zlNZXBodxPYHVn0GhvwyogJ-eCP9bIOXGiPudl1aSQ3HyR4Ygry9nBR7dxmxFQTXF6oa/s1600-h/Beartooth%252520collage%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Beartooth collage" border="0" alt="Beartooth collage" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgtzJ17czIERcCWdshPaFXBN96gfRu-jeQ66Zi5mLRcwHa2HL9ItyO2NNglCNdyrWfNoRDIXEve9UQXNrj8jBkhI1PBCBAyxX53JN1UR5YHM57tsgLoAFHNxuQIzFxMEEMz5kP1Hti75U/?imgmax=800" width="554" height="692"></a></p> Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414478271912340592noreply@blogger.com3