tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64742826975115320922024-03-12T23:11:10.232-07:0075% HippieI'm a slightly (some days more than slightly) crazed, mostly hippie, vegan, single mom. This blog is where I put the funny, the sad, the frustrating, and all the other parts of me. I'm bound to offend you at some point, but I think you'll be okay!
<br><br>I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-40999918299337837852022-05-31T10:11:00.001-07:002022-05-31T10:11:05.852-07:00Endings Pt. 1<p> So, I have been gone a very long time. This is going to be a series of posts that explain what happened and allow me to say goodbye. </p><p>Physically, I am fine. I am healthy and safe.</p><p>Emotionally and mentally, I'm healing. </p><p>From 2007 until December 25, 2020 I was best friends with an emotionally abusive narcissist. In that 13 years, I allowed this woman full access to my child and my life. I ignored the abuse that my daughter was enduring and didn't realize that I was being emotionally trained as a lapdog. I did not know that I was being manipulated and erased. </p><p>It started like a normal friendship, but quickly became far more. B infiltrated my life like a cancer that I <i>thought </i>was a gift. B changed my life in some good ways too, but all of it feels tainted by who I allowed myself to become. </p><p>I don't want to write about 13 years worth of memories. Lots of them are in this blog. </p><p>My daughter told me for years that she was unhappy and needed to not have B in her daily life. I ignored her. I made excuses. I was so delusional that there are entire gaps in my memory of things that my daughter went through. She'll tell a story and I will truly not know what she is talking about. She's not lying. These things actually happened and I DON'T REMEMBER THEM! I don't know that I will EVER forgive myself for doing that to her. </p><p>When I met Chris in 2014, things started to change. All of a sudden I was doing everything wrong. I apologized constantly because it seems I was always upsetting B. We went over 3 nights a week for dinner and spent many other evenings there. </p><p>Chris came over shortly after we met for dinner and to meet everyone else. (B was there when I met him) B cooks. She cooks well. She is also very intense about people "disrespecting" her food. Chris simply asked to not have the sweet potato fries with dinner. He was polite. She cut her eyes over to me and I knew it was going to be bad. She "joked" with him about hating her food. Chris felt terrible that he had upset someone who had welcomed him into her home. He doesn't care for sweet potatoes. She says that's when she knew he was bad news. She "joked" that he probably had people buried in his basement. Every day became an exercise in how far she could go in disparaging Chris. These weren't the little barbs she flung at my daughter which I had stopped even thinking were strange. These were blatant and pointed insults. I took it. I thought, well, she's just adjusting. I made more excuses.</p><p>I tried to switch our Mon/Wed/Fri schedule to Tue/Wed/Fri because Chris had Monday's off. That started a meltdown of epic proportions, but it was a slow melt. One of the kids told me that they were unhappy about something but didn't know how to talk to B. I talked to her and the meltdown that had been little nitpicky things exploded. I was never there anymore so how could I tell her that one of her kids was unhappy? I no longer needed her because I had Chris. I was abandoning her, S, and the kids. I felt awful! How could I be doing this to one of my best friends? I backed down. Again. </p><p>A year after I met Chris, 2 of the kids (Kimberly and R) had a school concert. My father wasn't able to go and neither was Kimberly's father. B, S, the other 2 kids, and Papa came to see the kids. Chris and I came to the concert. There was ONE person in that room that was there especially to see Kimberly and that was Chris. Chris and I got there first. B and the family came in looking around. She saw us and went and sat on the other side of the room because Chris was there. Knowing how hard things for me in public were at that time. Knowing that I was having massive anxiety being in a crowded room, and I know she knew these things because she had anxiety as well. I was so upset. During intermission, R came up to me, hugged me, and thanked me for being there. I asked if their mom was okay. They shrugged. I was so angry. I managed, out of not wanting to disappoint my daughter, to hold back my panic attack until I got home that night. I fell apart. The next morning, I did not stop by. B called. We fought. Our friendship was over I thought. I was devastated. We kept a civil relationship so our kids could still hang out and I could see the Hobbits. I will never regret having the Hobbits in my life. I love those 3 enormously. </p><p>One day, early in our friendship, B told me that one day I would leave her because everybody leaves her. That was a little bit of foreshadowing that I let slip by. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-14530597950064491382018-11-18T00:23:00.001-08:002018-11-18T00:23:14.641-08:00Life Is Not Easy(Written May 23, 2018)<br />
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I clicked a link the other day to listen to Matthew McConaughey do an <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKJImnk-gzQ" target="_blank">inspirational speech</a>. I didn't really think I'd be inspired, but I'll spend 5 minutes listening to that voice any day of the week.<br />
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Since then, I have listened to it dozens of times. I want to spend as long as it takes me to really analyze why this speaks to me. So, here I go.<br />
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"I'm going to talk to you about some things that I've learned in my journey. Most from experience, some of them I heard in passing, many of them I'm still practicing, but all of them I do believe are true. Life is not easy. It is not. Don't try to make it that way."<br />
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LIFE IS NOT EASY. It is such a simple concept, yet I am consistently surprised at how hard things are. Yes, I know, there are people worse off then me. We're not talking about them, we're talking about me. This is my therapy session. Life is so damn hard sometimes that I want to not get out of bed. It's mentally hard, physically hard, and emotionally hard. I get so tired. I want to lay down and sleep until it's easy. Why? Why do I want it to be easy? What on earth do people do with an easy life? They exist I guess. I want to live. I want to breathe, to laugh, to cry, to scream, to hug, to bleed, to really truly live. I don't think you can do that if life is easy. I'm working so hard some days to change my life and improve it. Other days, I wonder why I bother. I wonder if I can do it. I slack off and slide back. Do you know I've lost the same 36 pounds 3 times in the last year? Every time I lose weight someone is proud of me. I think "Why? It's the same 10 pounds I lost 6 months ago. I just gained it back because I slid down the hill of life". I can't celebrate that victory because I've already celebrated it, I feel like I'm cheating if I celebrate it again. I am terrified of succeeding because if I succeed, then I have to self-destruct. Why? Why do I have to sabotage my life? What am I so scared will happen if I'm happy? Is it because then I think it will all be taken away? I've gained and lost so much in my life. I feel like I had a handle on things until my mother died TWENTY ONE years ago. I've spent 21 years in this weird suspension of emotion that interacts with the rest of my life but is stuck there. Mourning. Missing her. Wondering why. Wondering how much is my fault. I would love for my mom to still be here. If she was, I wouldn't have my wonderful, smart, witty, funny, sarcastic, stubborn, beautiful girl. I wouldn't give her up for the world. So here this emotion hangs in suspended animation, knowing that I would die before giving up my girl. Since time travel isn't a reality (that I know about. It probably is, but I'm not in on that loop...HA! That's only funny if you're a nerd like me I guess!) that's all a ridiculous train of thought that is nothing but destructive. You see,not easy. Life is not easy. It is not. Don't try to make it that way. Laugh, love, cry, bleed, and live this hard life. Know that it's hard because it's worth it. The journey is worth it. If there are no hills and valleys, you're not living, you're just taking a walk.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-60675368752801390272015-02-25T22:16:00.002-08:002015-02-25T22:16:54.527-08:00Deep Thoughts Pt. 1<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">People talk about love and desire, but fear is
what really runs this big bad world we live in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s what makes us love, makes us hate, and makes us fight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re scared to be alone, we’re scared to get
hurt, and we’re so bloody scared of what we don’t understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fear of things we don’t understand has
led to enormous amounts of blood, pain, and death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Crusades, the Holocaust, Segregation,
DOMA; all things led by fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FDR said
in his first inaugural address that we have “nothing to fear, but fear itself”.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt
understood the things that plagued our nation had nothing to do with anything
but our fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish that was understood
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said “Happiness lies not in
the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill
of creative effort. The joy and moral stimulation of work no longer must be
forgotten in the mad chase of evanescent profits. These dark days will be worth
all they cost us if they teach us that our true destiny is not to be ministered
unto but to minister to ourselves and to our fellow men”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think those dark days were worth it
if today’s world is anything to judge by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s all about money and power, the need for both dominated by fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People don’t live for joy anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don’t live for peace, love, or the good
of humanity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes me wish for
superhero’s to be real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We could use a
Superman, a Wonder Woman, or even the ever flawed Batman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-42589271685190060222013-12-31T11:37:00.003-08:002013-12-31T11:37:36.124-08:00Happy 70th Birthday Daddy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Q8P3MMB_iI3fOiPgnL-JtNH0B4g-99LYzZOHv3EJB3VHfJ3-lHLON9Cn91tIYQikmyG_NXrOgqtNnL8e9u3Lw8Qw8TpCjLcpSH7IcFHddB1VArtTcroJ9jLRiW-iHCrnKBX2V4P5cyxg/s1600/S5001720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51dfSTcteRzh0Qi9XaYP3A_QGblgy1ntpIPCCdZVS8Z0BJSFuFgp8cY1BnFfgtGe5CmNmcwcK9f4rG5IVOI748RpLjrveHZP0k45yTp9GxHX1lCbOTBd48E0Hqb87XL1DjZ-4gFMTN-bN/s1600/dad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51dfSTcteRzh0Qi9XaYP3A_QGblgy1ntpIPCCdZVS8Z0BJSFuFgp8cY1BnFfgtGe5CmNmcwcK9f4rG5IVOI748RpLjrveHZP0k45yTp9GxHX1lCbOTBd48E0Hqb87XL1DjZ-4gFMTN-bN/s400/dad.JPG" width="343" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">There's
something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when
he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be
long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that
feels like love itself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">~John Gregory Brown, <i>Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery</i>, 1994~</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">You have woven me a blanket of love Daddy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">Thank you for all of the lessons you have taught me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">For learning how to love, how to be patient, and how to be a good parent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">I wish I could put into words how much I love and appreciate you!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">Happy 70th birthday!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">I love you so much! </span></div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-9860366157206374462013-08-27T21:51:00.000-07:002013-08-27T21:51:20.760-07:00Inner Voice<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJhzTh5LNwxTmvZuKOJBSm7i2uqO1hmVzO4C2-55YjJICdN7Pnugt1o0qCsVNdgAiegKIystT395zpMnL7VQQIul9Z9AhYGzmmgX57lt_BO_ihNKRCUZs3ydq2T2Kr7NGDmSITdfDQ8zt/s1600/8213part2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJhzTh5LNwxTmvZuKOJBSm7i2uqO1hmVzO4C2-55YjJICdN7Pnugt1o0qCsVNdgAiegKIystT395zpMnL7VQQIul9Z9AhYGzmmgX57lt_BO_ihNKRCUZs3ydq2T2Kr7NGDmSITdfDQ8zt/s400/8213part2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It takes courage to grow up to become who you really are ~e.e. cummings~</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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When I was pregnant, I was terrified that I was going to be a mother. I read everything I could find on how to be the best parent I could be. Six months into the parenting thing I figured out a few things. Number One: There is no way to be a perfect parent. Number Two: You are going to fuck your kid up. There's just no way around it. All you can do is try to minimize the damage and save for therapy. Number Three: Love your kid above all else and you'll make it all work out. </div>
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That's it. You're going to get tons of parenting advice when you have your first child. This is what I tell those woman who ask me for advice. "Listen to what everyone tells you to do, then ignore them all and do what feels right to you". </div>
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One thing I do believe that all the experts are currently telling us is about your child's inner voice. As they get older, that inner voice is usually going to be a repetition of the things you've said or not said to them throughout their life. I've tried very hard to make sure that my daughter's inner voice is one that will help her to be a happy person. She got her nose pierced today and needless to say, there are some people who are very unhappy about it. She's too young, she's ruining her life, it's disgusting, blah blah blah blah. I made sure I told her that I was proud of her and that I loved her. She thanked me and then asked me why all the lovey dovey. I told her that I wanted to make sure her inner voice was one that helped her and didn't make her feel bad. I love my kid so much. She said "My inner voice is me and I think I rock". Somewhere, clearly, I've done something right. So, you keep being you baby girl! Don't let anyone tell you differently. You can change this world and do it being the amazing person you are! Know that I love you and will support you! You're going to win in life and sometimes you're going to lose. Through it all, I will be there. Always. I will fight for you when you cannot and will fight with you when you can. My sweet girl.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfagrc6sem8UydBdUNfARO-al2YAbZhNRJXZphdDqFDc7N69kb8dCNQhhQYZSLWs_Jfhrr2QOuVYNeDDzSTxKIycLERsnbQfFu92w5vJ5i0Th5WzulIWxpZBXPcT993Yw3zR-orwGpk6CK/s1600/8413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfagrc6sem8UydBdUNfARO-al2YAbZhNRJXZphdDqFDc7N69kb8dCNQhhQYZSLWs_Jfhrr2QOuVYNeDDzSTxKIycLERsnbQfFu92w5vJ5i0Th5WzulIWxpZBXPcT993Yw3zR-orwGpk6CK/s400/8413.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="firstword">I</span> am unique. Do not compare me with anyone because I wasn't born to be like anyone, act like anyone and think like anyone. ~Frank Matobo~</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Many people would be surprised that I'm not a big fan of kids in general. There are exceptions to this rule of course. Three of those exceptions are the fabulous and unique children above. I am privileged enough to get to spend time with these children almost daily. I love these children like they are my own. </div>
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Sean, you are becoming an amazing man and I am so proud of you! You know your path and you will follow it with passion and fearlessness.</div>
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Sarah, I have watched you blossom into a confident and beautiful young woman. You no longer fade into the background but proclaim your uniqueness with a strong and powerful voice. It is such an honor to be a small part of that blossoming.</div>
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Shanny. So wise beyond your years. You see deeply and truly to the heart of what is. You fly your flag baby and you do it like nobody I've ever known.</div>
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Thank you, my sweet ones, for allowing me to be a part of your lives. </div>
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Know that I love you and will fight for you like I would for Kim.</div>
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Know that you are lucky in the mother you have been given.</div>
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She will always allow you to be who you are and that is a rare gift.</div>
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May your inner voices always speak with love. </div>
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That is all.</div>
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I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-39272592295497802672013-08-25T00:11:00.000-07:002013-08-25T00:11:39.851-07:00Demons<div style="text-align: center;">
We all have them. Mine live in my head, where most of yours probably live too. I wish mine would shut up. I've spent too long feeling less than and for stupid reasons. I'm trying so hard to feel like I deserve the things in life that many take for granted. I deserve to be happy, loved, and respected.</div>
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Warning: rambling ahead..... </div>
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It feels weird to not need your approval. I spent so many years needing what you would never give me. Not what you couldn't give me, but what you wouldn't. I always thought that you didn't love me because there was something wrong with me. After all, I was the common element in all of my failed relationships. Clearly, I wasn't good enough. Turns out, not only was I good enough, but you were really damn lucky that I loved you. You really missed the boat. It's okay. If you had told me a year ago that I was about to say this, I'd have said you were crazy. I am so glad that you didn't love me. I am so glad that you made the decisions that you made that enabled me to move on. Thank you!</div>
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Rambling ended.....</div>
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Just having one of those introspective nights with too much time to think. Rather than numbing out the feelings and thoughts, I'm just letting them tumble and jumble. Through it all, I keep internally chanting my positive self talk which is turning into a mantra. I am trying to remember that what you believe is what you manifest. So, I am worthy. I am lovable. I am loved. I am beautiful. </div>
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That is all. </div>
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I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-91977569398948415052013-07-06T15:22:00.000-07:002013-07-06T15:22:16.206-07:00Summer Fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOjmw3Ix9gI3nCk4zJ_Bp46LnYMS7r8hGRPuXFlGDzo6x3BZD-thaSxBLXBr01qc1wyRnehiOPtlJLZHLv_qkmH63BR9rhW55gsJwCGzUi8rgLDAhDsTy-qCBKkYdO_1pMh-Pu2yqb8KD/s1600/7-4-20131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOjmw3Ix9gI3nCk4zJ_Bp46LnYMS7r8hGRPuXFlGDzo6x3BZD-thaSxBLXBr01qc1wyRnehiOPtlJLZHLv_qkmH63BR9rhW55gsJwCGzUi8rgLDAhDsTy-qCBKkYdO_1pMh-Pu2yqb8KD/s400/7-4-20131.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Well, summer is here and so is the fun!</div>
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We had the after school celebration with the kiddos. We took them roller skating, lunch, Mallard's Ice Cream, and had a celebration cook out at home. They worked their patookeses off this year in school. Sean finished his freshmen year in high school (and how the hell did that happen? I'm getting old), Sarah and Kim both did their 7th and 8th grade curriculum, and Shanny finished up elementary school. Kim and Shan have chosen to return to public school next year. I'm trying really hard to be supportive. Really, really, really hard. </div>
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Strawberry picking was next with lots of fun and tons of yummy strawberry jam at the end of it.</div>
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Of course, there's the fourth of July with the fireworks and the one of two days a year that I allow myself to drink too much. Becca made tons of food and we spent the day outside in the sun (for almost everyone, I was in the shade). I am so blessed to have these wonderful people in my life. </div>
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B has some great stuff planned for the kids this summer. The NW WA Fair, Birch Bay Water Slides, a weekly jaunt to a nearby town to do some spelunking, Do Do Monkey's birthday, and of course the 6th (?) annual Water Balloon Wars!!!! </div>
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Never forget, the group camping trip is coming! WAHOO!!!!</div>
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<a href="http://www.bhampride.org/" target="_blank">Pride is this next week! I'm always up for a great parade and festival! </a></div>
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Sus is coming home for a few days in August and I get to meet her boyfriend which is super cool. At some point, Kim and I are going to make it down to Sunnyvale to hang out in the fun and sun as well. I'm not sure where that's going to fit but damnit, it's going to happen!</div>
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Of course, the last two months have been full of Chris. He really is amazing. For the first time in so long, I'm being treated well and I won't lie, it's nice. I am completely twitterpated over this incredible man. We have a lot in common but enough differences to keep it interesting. He's incredibly shy, sweet, and very funny. Yep, twitterpated. I don't care that spell check keeps telling me that it's not a word. If it's good enough for Thumper, it's good enough for me!</div>
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Off and running so more later!</div>
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That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-62095750284609154682013-06-09T09:34:00.002-07:002013-06-09T09:34:54.758-07:00A Year<div style="text-align: center;">
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I cannot believe a year has passed. </div>
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A year of birthdays, sunrises, and yes, of grief. You are so missed Nana and still loved beyond measure.</div>
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Thursdays still aren't the same. I made your cupcakes for your birthday. The cedar waxwings came back.</div>
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I love you Colleen!</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-33561038579851525832013-06-05T11:03:00.001-07:002013-06-05T11:03:52.959-07:00Worst Blogger Ever!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFJrw00j6ISdyCmDyIDTCnPiTs_DKrXDxH0Y4FWOyHiAUWHZaS4saf6OIelQiXn0m6gqowSQmDU_1_82bpKsPooIIVeU34CodNJ88-r2b3Rabw1P1bd3HIjFUm97_N73dz1LSObi03JUd9/s1600/2013_05_04+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFJrw00j6ISdyCmDyIDTCnPiTs_DKrXDxH0Y4FWOyHiAUWHZaS4saf6OIelQiXn0m6gqowSQmDU_1_82bpKsPooIIVeU34CodNJ88-r2b3Rabw1P1bd3HIjFUm97_N73dz1LSObi03JUd9/s320/2013_05_04+010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Hi Kittens! </div>
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Yes, I know, I'm the worst blogger ever. Over a month has gone by and I have not blogged. I feel shame. Shame and anguish! I do hope you'll forgive me! Life has been a bit busy but I am going to try to get better about blogging. I know, you've heard it before, but this time I mean it....;)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFD-wpALS_rVtpMepXsTRnkP0VnOSIU8DaMHN_tYKDUwOR9PEvjVhWThoZosUGmv1RGq0r5V_7ZI5o7L8OcaBd9bp3ovtlSd0jnBWTGJ0Oyehna69YTGxN1X0Mqmp64oYXFOedzpp_tG0/s1600/IMG_1282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFD-wpALS_rVtpMepXsTRnkP0VnOSIU8DaMHN_tYKDUwOR9PEvjVhWThoZosUGmv1RGq0r5V_7ZI5o7L8OcaBd9bp3ovtlSd0jnBWTGJ0Oyehna69YTGxN1X0Mqmp64oYXFOedzpp_tG0/s320/IMG_1282.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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As you can see, B bought the kids a trampoline. In completely unrelated news, Kim sprained her wrist. We also had a very scary trip to the emergency room. Like, call an ambulance for my passed out and unresponsive daughter, scary. Not a fun time. Still not sure what is going on but she had an allergic reaction to something and dehydration didn't help that any. She had food allergy testing on Tuesday and we are waiting for Children's to call about getting her back in with the gastroenterologist. She's been having stomach problems for a few weeks and we're not going to wait until this gets bad to get it figured it out this time. </div>
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Mother's Day is usually within a few days of my mom's birthday and it's rarely a good day for me. Although I try not to mire myself in grief, I usually spend the day in a funk. This year, mom's birthday fell on the same day as the Heritage plant sale in Ferndale. B and her mom went every year and this is her first year without her. We decided to be selfish and take the day for ourselves. We went to the plant sale which began with us crying in the car. We walked over and I immediately saw a Wisteria that had my name all over it. It was mom's favorite plant and what better way to wish her a Happy Birthday? Poppa gave B some $$ for us to buy plants and have lunch so thank you Poppa for the pretty plant! I picked up a few other plants and a present for Sarah's birthday, then I went to sit down. Part of my way of handling my anxiety is people watching. I noticed this guy who was cute and figured he was waiting for his wife because it was clear he wasn't interested in the plants. Becca and I were chatting back and forth across the sale and one of my friends showed up. I noticed, while talking to Michelle, that this man had gone to talk to Becca. Hmmm...odd. My friend went off to find plants and this man walks up to me "Susan"? "Yes?" "Your friend told me to come over here, my name is Chris". Let's face it folks. For such an intelligent woman, I'm kind of a moron. I assumed he was Becca's ex boyfriend Chris and she wanted me to meet him. I'm smooth too, let me tell you. "It's nice to finally meet you". A few seconds of small talk and I went back to talking to my friend Michelle. As Becca and I were leaving, I feel a tap on my shoulder. This guy hands me his phone number written on a piece of paper and all sheepishly (and how adorable can he be?) told me if I wanted to call him, that would be great. I smiled and think I said something like "Oh cool! Have a good day". He walked back into the store near the plant sale. I walk up to B and say "Your creeper ex boyfriend just gave me his phone number". "I've never seen that guy before in my life. He came up to me and asked if you were single. When I told him yes, he said you were beautiful so I gave him your name and told him he should talk to you. I think he came out specifically to meet you". Yep, smooth as glass, that's me. This totally cute guy is hitting on me and I'm not only oblivious but kind of ridiculous. Becca and I had a great day filled with memories, fun, and I think being together really helped us get through a miserable day. I got home around 9 that night and the next day was Mother's Day so I didn't get a chance to call Chris until Monday night. We talked for four hours that night and have been rather inseparable since. He's fantastic, my kid adores him, and he thinks I'm amazing. I am over the moon for this guy!!! It's so nice to finally be happy and he does make me so happy! Okay, enough gushing. You'll be hearing more about Chris in the future, never fear!<br />
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Well, I've babbled on long enough. School's almost done for the kids and summer is almost here. It's been a rough year here in The 'Ham and I'm hoping the next year will gift us with happiness, peace, and love.<br />
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That is all Poppets. </div>
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I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-32109731507568900312013-04-20T15:02:00.000-07:002013-04-20T15:02:04.192-07:00Victory In My Defeat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVMpM5dxEVzKs81yEY9EO6UoE_R7S7iOCSg-odnZyoN4oAkNsSi7BrEoCuIl1gDihr2PUBfe70nulkTawhM_vpkuDLJ3oUzeFmKGADy9xEXq6v0iGTBNwK6KJzGPByVIs1KxAJ5LJMAZM/s1600/IMG_1186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVMpM5dxEVzKs81yEY9EO6UoE_R7S7iOCSg-odnZyoN4oAkNsSi7BrEoCuIl1gDihr2PUBfe70nulkTawhM_vpkuDLJ3oUzeFmKGADy9xEXq6v0iGTBNwK6KJzGPByVIs1KxAJ5LJMAZM/s400/IMG_1186.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I've talked about my anxiety on the blog before. </div>
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It is pretty severe and every time I think I'm getting better, I am reminded that I'm really not. </div>
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I've talked about how some days, it takes everything I have to crawl out of bed.</div>
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Today, I crawled out of bed knowing that I had a garden project meeting. </div>
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This is a great program. They build you a 4'x8' raised bed garden, fill it with awesome soil, section it into 1' sections, provide you with training, seeds and starts. </div>
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There are 3, two hour meetings. The first one, today I thought, is where you learn about what grows here in Whatcom County and you order the seeds and starts that you would like. Kevin ended up having to work because it is the <a href="http://www.funwiththefuzz5k.com/" target="_blank">Fun With The Fuzz 5K</a>. Kim and Beth had plans to volunteer at the <a href="http://www.whatcomhumane.org/" target="_blank">Humane Society</a> and then spend the day together just bumming around the mall, value village, and <a href="http://www.goodsproduce.com/index.html" target="_blank">Goods Produce</a>. That left me on my own. Going to an unfamiliar place with people I don't know. Cue the anxiety. I got dressed, I waited and waited for what seemed like forever until it was time to go. I drove into town and got a coffee at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cool-Beans-Coffee-Bellingham/123938034342781" target="_blank">Cool Beans</a>, then went to the <a href="http://www.re-store.org/index.php" target="_blank">ReStore</a> where the meeting was being held. I thought.</div>
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I get there and have to choose between the stairs and the elevator. I was shaking a lot so I took the elevator because I didn't want to fall on the stairs and embarrass the crap out of myself. Can we say wrong choice?? I get in the elevator which is tiny, but I can handle that. The door closes. The light does not work. I am now in a pitch black box that is not moving. At all. I pulled out my phone for a bit of light. Three minutes later the box finally ascends. Sort of. It groaned, stuttered, stopped at one point, and finally got to the 2nd floor. The door stayed closed. At this point, I really am proud of myself for not curling into a ball and sobbing until the vet showed up to put me down. The door opens and I practically flew out of the death lift, shaking even more than when I got into it. I walked down the to entrance door on this beautiful veranda with lovely plant boxes and nice chairs to sit in. The door was locked. There were no signs. Nothing. I knock on the door thinking maybe I got the time wrong and there was somebody in there. Nothing. I peek in the very dark windows. Nobody. I sit down in one of the chairs, take a sip of my coffee, and text Becca. JoJo calls me back because B is driving (he went last year and he could tell me if I was in the right place). I was in the right place. A quick call to Julia (the coordinator) that went unanswered and I decided to take the stairs down and ask in the ReStore if anyone knew if I was in the right place at the right time. Blank looks and shrugs.</div>
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At this point, I feel like I'm going to pass out so I go out to my car before I embarrass myself more. I drive to the redbox at 7-11 and grab a few movies I had reserved for Beth, Kimmie, and myself. Becca called to make sure that I was okay. I was. Ish. I knew I'd be okay once I got home. </div>
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What happened here? </div>
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I checked the calendar. </div>
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Well, that's what happened. </div>
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I need to learn to read a calendar because it's next week.</div>
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I am going to do this all over again next week.</div>
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I choose to find victory in the fact that I not only went, but I went by myself. By myself and without passing out, vomiting, crying, or otherwise making a complete fool of myself. </div>
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Screw you anxiety, I won today!!!!</div>
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That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-35424029362168040782013-03-26T21:50:00.000-07:002013-03-26T21:50:04.054-07:00Step Out: Walk to Stop Diabetes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrPtqdan7FjbMvN3ilyIq_D7fOOSyAaflPVKSrCIAVeX-08WOXiVYdmDP9UOl7hRxMOICnno-_XAfMlYd9B-nwdcmJWqnymEbKX16W-ydiEpGbv7QnfrAWDY_shVmpry-p1G3NXk7xCSVX/s1600/adastepout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrPtqdan7FjbMvN3ilyIq_D7fOOSyAaflPVKSrCIAVeX-08WOXiVYdmDP9UOl7hRxMOICnno-_XAfMlYd9B-nwdcmJWqnymEbKX16W-ydiEpGbv7QnfrAWDY_shVmpry-p1G3NXk7xCSVX/s1600/adastepout.jpg" /></a></div>
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I have been involved with this walk in one way or another since 2004. Growing up, one of my best friend's mom had this scary disease called Diabetes. I didn't know a lot about it but I knew that she was sick, had "reactions", and sometimes went to the hospital. Watching what I now know were diabetic reactions to low blood sugars was scary. For a long time I didn't know what to do or how to handle it. Over time, I learned a little bit about what to do, but was still mostly just scared.</div>
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In 2000, I found out that one of my best friends had Type I Diabetes. He kept a lot of the effects of it from me, other than occasional low blood sugars and it wasn't until 2007 that I finally saw the hell the he lives in. It's a hell of constant vigilance or risk having a low which, for him, leads to seizures if they aren't caught soon enough. He had to have reconstructive shoulder surgery and in order to do that, we had to have his blood sugars under strict control. It became a focus of our lives for over a year. I've learned an enormous amount about what this disease can do to you if you do not manage it properly and sometimes even if you do.</div>
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My father was diagnosed with Type II Diabetes several years ago. He manages it well but it's always a worry with neuropathy, possible vision loss, what he's eating, when he's eating, if he's resting enough, and if he will get sick or not. You see, people with Diabetes don't heal as quickly as they should. A simple cut on the bottom of your foot, if you don't feel it or just think you stepped on a rock, could be life threatening. </div>
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I want to live in a world that doesn't have this insidious disease. I want people to educate themselves on some of the causes of Type II Diabetes. I don't want to wonder anymore if this seizure is the seizure that takes him away from me. I don't want to wonder just how much shorter Diabetes has cut my loved one's lives short. </div>
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If you can donate even $1.00 then please do so by <a href="http://main.diabetes.org/site/TR?px=1793031&pg=personal&fr_id=9113&et=mo1BBkIZ4wkgIHGRfLIZKw&s_tafId=477293" target="_blank">CLICKING HERE</a> for my personal page.</div>
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If you are in the greater Seattle area (I live about 2 hours away) and want to walk then please <a href="http://main.diabetes.org/site/TR?team_id=584383&pg=team&fr_id=9113&et=0Uv_JDLc2mXA4WiiXIMUBg&s_tafId=477293" target="_blank">CLICK HERE</a> to join our team. You can also join the team as a virtual walker if you cannot attend the walk but want to raise money.</div>
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If you want to join or start a team for a walk in your area, you can find a walk by <a href="http://stepout.diabetes.org/site/PageServer?pagename=OUT_homepage" target="_blank">CLICKING HERE</a> and entering your zip code on the Step Out homepage.</div>
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Whether or not you walk or donate, please pass this information to your friends through email, Facebook, Twitter, or whatever social media you would like to use.</div>
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The American Diabetes Association asks walkers why they walk.</div>
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I walk for love.</div>
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That is all. </div>
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I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-90634260011344832982013-02-23T16:43:00.001-08:002013-02-23T16:43:35.938-08:00The Pampered Chef, Saturday, and an Award.<div style="text-align: center;">
Hi all,</div>
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I'm hosting an online Pampered Chef Party. </div>
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If you have ever purchased anything from TPC then you know the top quality product and awesome warranty that they provide. </div>
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Although I am hosting the event on Facebook, you can order without even going to the page. </div>
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<br /><span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl">Here's how to place your order:<br /> <br /> Go to </span></span></span></span></span><span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><a href="http://www.pamperedchef.biz/intveldkitchen" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank"><span>www.pamperedchef.biz/</span><wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>intveldkitchen</a></span></span><br /><span class="text_exposed_show"> Click "Shop Online"<br /> Enter "Susan Fine" as your host <br /> Select the blue link “Susan Fine "<br /> Shop! Shop! Shop! <br /> <br /> ***FREE Small Batter Bowl with purchase of $60 or more!! ***</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show"> </span></span></span> <br /> All orders will be submitted together and shipped when the
show closes on February 26th; </span></span></span></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show">credit cards will be processed at that
time. </span></span></span></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show">Direct shipping is available to anywhere in the U.S. </span></span></span></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show">~ local
orders will be shipped to Susan for pick-up.</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCG4S993e3mzzLocEx_IEYRPhX1iX_LUSfmJPpDuzWFsfjpqD-Hs23nqwSjeopgSBCKAZM7jQEjon-r8Dk5bkrJMoRlFy5rLjKKMgJDnJZyoSFUiD48ZmLHRJAnLz_xuntWJ-D5Z_ezRN0/s1600/garden-bracelet666667610777766.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCG4S993e3mzzLocEx_IEYRPhX1iX_LUSfmJPpDuzWFsfjpqD-Hs23nqwSjeopgSBCKAZM7jQEjon-r8Dk5bkrJMoRlFy5rLjKKMgJDnJZyoSFUiD48ZmLHRJAnLz_xuntWJ-D5Z_ezRN0/s200/garden-bracelet666667610777766.bmp" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show">A big happy shout out to Becca who took my kid clothes shopping today.</span></span></span></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show">$40 for 3 pairs of jeans, 2 pairs of shorts, a pair of yoga pants, and 7 shirts.</span></span></span></div>
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl"><span class="text_exposed_show">YAY! Thank you Becca!!!!!</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmM23rpAD5w0IuVb_qo0EybktkKYY3O0J0S7t1hoDQRlTxBGbf9TgJiGZQR_umDgZn3utqpxnZ-8G4Zdst_G7sVW0_2qTqamzuY_gFUlzeSI3OpiSDtxkkSjiZM0BJic44OLD30d6bdVa/s1600/veryinspiringblogaward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmM23rpAD5w0IuVb_qo0EybktkKYY3O0J0S7t1hoDQRlTxBGbf9TgJiGZQR_umDgZn3utqpxnZ-8G4Zdst_G7sVW0_2qTqamzuY_gFUlzeSI3OpiSDtxkkSjiZM0BJic44OLD30d6bdVa/s1600/veryinspiringblogaward.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://menopausalmother.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Menopausal Mother</a> has nominated me for the Very Inspiring Blogger award. </div>
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It always makes me feel good to know that my blog has impacted someone, other than sending them to the funny farm! </div>
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The rules for this award:<br />
1. Link back to the person who nominated you.<br />
2. Post award image on your site.<br />
3. List 7 random facts about yourself.<br />
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers.<br />
5. Notify the bloggers that they have been nominated and link back to their site.</div>
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7 random facts about myself:</div>
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I have 2 birthmarks. </div>
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Both are photosensitive so one has all but disappeared and the other is barely visible except in the summer.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjwInbho6_peAEH7FXNaWnHYEf53yjhvVlYoaWNnVBNtkki0DrHmQ_nZRgTImZ8pt3HDZgm4UVSL6BgwrBc8JgmMbYxxDEZgPeGzhTM1RCSaQGutjV6rS2mdQ334mzLsW258hF9PUZa_1R/s1600/Nickelback-nickelback-642027_1024_768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjwInbho6_peAEH7FXNaWnHYEf53yjhvVlYoaWNnVBNtkki0DrHmQ_nZRgTImZ8pt3HDZgm4UVSL6BgwrBc8JgmMbYxxDEZgPeGzhTM1RCSaQGutjV6rS2mdQ334mzLsW258hF9PUZa_1R/s320/Nickelback-nickelback-642027_1024_768.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I like Nickelback. Yep, I do! I don't understand why people don't like them or make fun of them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGxq02LYYrvUhJM7H-U3mVsCnca5jZf9LQQem8agR99R3j78ztobbhxWGTZRT3BhnRTyxHjwIt087xTignRTgvzkoruTlnxDLFExmre5ECVkjDr-6VQchERlwWOYAtvp0dF5PiPd-58oo/s1600/marvin-the-martian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGxq02LYYrvUhJM7H-U3mVsCnca5jZf9LQQem8agR99R3j78ztobbhxWGTZRT3BhnRTyxHjwIt087xTignRTgvzkoruTlnxDLFExmre5ECVkjDr-6VQchERlwWOYAtvp0dF5PiPd-58oo/s320/marvin-the-martian.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
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Some of you know that I have a Marvin the Martian tattoo. </div>
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I LOVE Marvin. He's so cute and destructive. </div>
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I have several tree ornaments, the tattoo, a notebook, pencils, </div>
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and goodness knows what else with his cute little self on them!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSRAjbROAXD2LnM2Absy4EIp97D_VFFPjdq2FG30WbERAv5rc_tIaNbxVa7MJfe5i6gpVa50b3JfIUleCA6FerkSAqKRrwItodVTDhMZsdqi7FTok1ubKQ34thFp-g405p1znuCE1l4JdN/s1600/BlankBaseSepiaAngelbyMoSusanF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSRAjbROAXD2LnM2Absy4EIp97D_VFFPjdq2FG30WbERAv5rc_tIaNbxVa7MJfe5i6gpVa50b3JfIUleCA6FerkSAqKRrwItodVTDhMZsdqi7FTok1ubKQ34thFp-g405p1znuCE1l4JdN/s320/BlankBaseSepiaAngelbyMoSusanF.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I love using Paint Shop Pro to be creative. </div>
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I also make cards and scrap, and my hope is to start doing some more creative stuff with materials I already have. I love re-purposing things.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4Z9s-OvseZjQSm1DnV_6frfkE7VnUBJP7nkj1gnFLY9ffPhwEhG-0fr2oeI1IAaCU834jTE0Iia6CjP3I3163HwJptsLHWnJSLNdJSNB2Ch4jgInU0XChThG1GaxUN4Jm9MPIEVRCYNq/s1600/thanksgivingdisaters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4Z9s-OvseZjQSm1DnV_6frfkE7VnUBJP7nkj1gnFLY9ffPhwEhG-0fr2oeI1IAaCU834jTE0Iia6CjP3I3163HwJptsLHWnJSLNdJSNB2Ch4jgInU0XChThG1GaxUN4Jm9MPIEVRCYNq/s320/thanksgivingdisaters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cooking stresses me out. What if it doesn't taste good? What if the people eating it aren't being honest. </div>
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I have mentioned that I have issues so this should not come as a shock that I am a bit OCD about it. </div>
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Although cooking stresses me out, I love cooking utensils. I love using them. It makes me smile and helps me to think that maybe it will taste better because I used kitchen gadget x. </div>
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Neurotic, party of 1! Neurotic, party of 1!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtWlyrSDVgffr_JLWgC9bzIse4vGEjIaIDcsg6OV04Gf_r99gJWap6sWVu00_hiMhg5jwAxgfOD1WP5qQz_yghi5uz9sKGIOVyBr61gYizAIscrtbn5tOcAZElhQgrynnRmFS0UBgJ9n7/s1600/nice+pentagram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtWlyrSDVgffr_JLWgC9bzIse4vGEjIaIDcsg6OV04Gf_r99gJWap6sWVu00_hiMhg5jwAxgfOD1WP5qQz_yghi5uz9sKGIOVyBr61gYizAIscrtbn5tOcAZElhQgrynnRmFS0UBgJ9n7/s320/nice+pentagram.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I am not religious but I follow an earth centered spiritual path. </div>
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I am constantly trying to be a better person in regards to those around me, new people, and the earth. </div>
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I am going to nominate 6 bloggers who inspire me:</div>
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1. <a href="http://theracyredhead.com/" target="_blank">The Racy Redhead</a></div>
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2. <a href="http://massholemommy.com/" target="_blank">Masshole Mommy</a></div>
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3. <a href="http://notwinningmomoftheyear.com/" target="_blank">Not Winning Mom of the Year</a></div>
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4. <a href="http://www.green-4-u.com/" target="_blank">Green 4 U</a></div>
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5. <a href="http://jules-beautifulday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">A Beautiful Day</a></div>
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and in a shameless plug for Becca and my blog:</div>
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6. <a href="http://happyhippieheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Happy Hippie Heart</a></div>
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In all seriousness, HHH inspires me every day to get outside of my head and be positive. </div>
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It forces me to look for beauty in the world, even when I'd rather turn from it.</div>
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I know I'm supposed to do 15 but I've already spent the whole day doing stuff, coming back to the post, taking a nap, coming back to the post, etc.. so 6 is what you get. :)</div>
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<img border="0" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCG4S993e3mzzLocEx_IEYRPhX1iX_LUSfmJPpDuzWFsfjpqD-Hs23nqwSjeopgSBCKAZM7jQEjon-r8Dk5bkrJMoRlFy5rLjKKMgJDnJZyoSFUiD48ZmLHRJAnLz_xuntWJ-D5Z_ezRN0/s200/garden-bracelet666667610777766.bmp" width="200" /> </div>
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Hope you all have a great weekend!</div>
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That is all. </div>
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I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-46648569831112638372013-02-17T12:10:00.002-08:002013-02-17T12:10:46.474-08:00Why I LOVE My Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMQpHlCvmwg5OUjj7Q1dDlejKHaAXrFuoopsIkpu0zN0iRqN2KJ8hhwYJn8Q4f3YkVu0RKFuiz2HdC_IycnV1CncrecHs7TvwhSIvJ4i6_ZGs-GpZDIWZRnsskwQp_DFLn9tmm4oSqzbj/s1600/IMG_1018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMQpHlCvmwg5OUjj7Q1dDlejKHaAXrFuoopsIkpu0zN0iRqN2KJ8hhwYJn8Q4f3YkVu0RKFuiz2HdC_IycnV1CncrecHs7TvwhSIvJ4i6_ZGs-GpZDIWZRnsskwQp_DFLn9tmm4oSqzbj/s400/IMG_1018.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Actual conversation that happened yesterday:</div>
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Me: Beth, could you measure the Flarke bookcases in the hallway please?</div>
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Beth: 9 and 3/4 inches.</div>
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Kim: (Exploding out of the bathroom): Platform 9 3/4?</div>
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Me: Yes Kim, we are sending you to Hogwart's next year!</div>
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Kim: YES!</div>
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Beth: helpless laughter</div>
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Kim: You're not really sending me to Hogwart's, are you?</div>
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Me: more helpless laughter</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-63555410952476094052013-02-15T22:18:00.001-08:002013-02-15T22:18:41.054-08:00Truth<div style="text-align: center;">
I deserve better.</div>
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That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-24866417005815886372013-02-11T11:54:00.000-08:002013-02-11T11:54:19.014-08:00Cake<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I thought I'd be upbeat today.</div>
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What's more upbeat than Birthday Cakes?</div>
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Here are some cakes that Beth and I have made over the years.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zogHDzGbupi-KGprZWZRQkr_RPDNSSSqHiZLWnOPsJL9eelC_XBcwLrfHrh7N_vzryIksY3M-Pb8fFd774f59zBfJ93mhGvgoN_dMUew_NiGAF3Yst3gbb-yZ2qP66yaenxOcrLC5wW_/s1600/0617002051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zogHDzGbupi-KGprZWZRQkr_RPDNSSSqHiZLWnOPsJL9eelC_XBcwLrfHrh7N_vzryIksY3M-Pb8fFd774f59zBfJ93mhGvgoN_dMUew_NiGAF3Yst3gbb-yZ2qP66yaenxOcrLC5wW_/s320/0617002051.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sean's 5th grade graduation cake. </div>
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It looks more like a guy in his nightshirt and cap but he liked it and it was fun. </div>
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I need to work on my people. :) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5R0A_HeSZq3-yeueGq8ISnZMp166C9X6GAT-z_TplN_6jz0scEd1FnXuatFsbsN5SZHkttYIROmJNJasFaeO7yMjHOdjE7nHSjzgQQnCHxXHKpsBd6dDAKe0LqTJF4SrloCFO4-Ov_h8/s1600/IMG00346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5R0A_HeSZq3-yeueGq8ISnZMp166C9X6GAT-z_TplN_6jz0scEd1FnXuatFsbsN5SZHkttYIROmJNJasFaeO7yMjHOdjE7nHSjzgQQnCHxXHKpsBd6dDAKe0LqTJF4SrloCFO4-Ov_h8/s320/IMG00346.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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This was for Sarah's(I believe) 9th birthday. It weighed 15 pounds and looked awesome. It is supposed to be a castle but we can also go with Smurf houses! :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXTZoXpnvlYKudhyNhxt3VioSFP615ws-BYvPPVDFuuWV0idRkEmCZLYiQZVx2yG_joaK35_dK8sri0tkmvhbmuWIlvi8qjTeU1Zlmhf-nNQHChtc9-OCa4FG2TKuPijfO6HMK1cWmlG0/s1600/IMG_3468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXTZoXpnvlYKudhyNhxt3VioSFP615ws-BYvPPVDFuuWV0idRkEmCZLYiQZVx2yG_joaK35_dK8sri0tkmvhbmuWIlvi8qjTeU1Zlmhf-nNQHChtc9-OCa4FG2TKuPijfO6HMK1cWmlG0/s320/IMG_3468.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEH6_VVcsZPQvsz1tE1euHNc0_fgT7DGfQIz2QXcEGLNkROJ42ku7O4_Q4NZzAAUr7V80IfAeiqHcSYnwIT61r0G453sLyBQpBHIYmZ7OXcfWkaHj2jKvhgL26OLnlW98szqemql4MmIz9/s1600/IMG_3469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEH6_VVcsZPQvsz1tE1euHNc0_fgT7DGfQIz2QXcEGLNkROJ42ku7O4_Q4NZzAAUr7V80IfAeiqHcSYnwIT61r0G453sLyBQpBHIYmZ7OXcfWkaHj2jKvhgL26OLnlW98szqemql4MmIz9/s320/IMG_3469.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7sUZGVNnEh-xt2MjS2M2lOdMQ0zo-JVqG6rHP0WphPc0fo-feHVovCgYRGD4szfeLRnAhFjjgXXMhOyg3VjhmWaIwyQhu7eLjO1GFbK13HPFx3FhYOdbAFCqznJVoFYm5DCUkwmzJwKq/s1600/IMG_3470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7sUZGVNnEh-xt2MjS2M2lOdMQ0zo-JVqG6rHP0WphPc0fo-feHVovCgYRGD4szfeLRnAhFjjgXXMhOyg3VjhmWaIwyQhu7eLjO1GFbK13HPFx3FhYOdbAFCqznJVoFYm5DCUkwmzJwKq/s320/IMG_3470.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
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One of my favorites to make was Sarah's 10th birthday cake. She wanted a square foot garden and that is what she got. Becca had the great idea of using crushed Oreos for the "soil". Awesome. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEx-cQ7FzZXWeZ35TABgxisHZFI1pEu4tq3XjDrfN5yM0_KZzJp8fP_hasJ1tCoFULTjlx2eLrPHRa6i3aKHdHzCUQGdlI3tJkFro3tRVK_YVFMNWr6xjsAPkOxILKtA0FvKMpQyoo74B/s1600/tinkerbellcakekaitlyns4th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEx-cQ7FzZXWeZ35TABgxisHZFI1pEu4tq3XjDrfN5yM0_KZzJp8fP_hasJ1tCoFULTjlx2eLrPHRa6i3aKHdHzCUQGdlI3tJkFro3tRVK_YVFMNWr6xjsAPkOxILKtA0FvKMpQyoo74B/s1600/tinkerbellcakekaitlyns4th.jpg" /></a></div>
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This was for Kaitlyn's 4th birthday and it was a lot of fun to make! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVPvVLrSsXcu8na4kBX4KtZf4GkvHOaw6m4jhyphenhyphend2K8oxElTCtVE8t_URHSxEcHChy9vK9IvOW2oTbGPOckuY6feuXWSLW1B4jJH3cx1INVerutzNUZZQoCBOqbNS95XZnajumPk1_x1cQ/s1600/kims10thbdaycake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVPvVLrSsXcu8na4kBX4KtZf4GkvHOaw6m4jhyphenhyphend2K8oxElTCtVE8t_URHSxEcHChy9vK9IvOW2oTbGPOckuY6feuXWSLW1B4jJH3cx1INVerutzNUZZQoCBOqbNS95XZnajumPk1_x1cQ/s320/kims10thbdaycake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBtThwSBHoQEb6l7LVJz6R3aeKmSaC6SoFD4N2M5Lc8nbB7QzEYHR9zs6eRs1WfI0eoQlBx8zVw9ucgmArOlFhqK3JDFAhqEFvuTkJ_tnWGXsEPB9ueS9B6IUszSg3vuFM-oYGImCDt9U/s1600/IMG_1408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBtThwSBHoQEb6l7LVJz6R3aeKmSaC6SoFD4N2M5Lc8nbB7QzEYHR9zs6eRs1WfI0eoQlBx8zVw9ucgmArOlFhqK3JDFAhqEFvuTkJ_tnWGXsEPB9ueS9B6IUszSg3vuFM-oYGImCDt9U/s320/IMG_1408.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
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This was for Kim's 10th birthday and was challenging. </div>
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I don't work in fondant, so trying to get the skirt as smooth as possible was interesting. </div>
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It looked great though at the end of it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOz7VA6pyMzCiEmQlazx6adKfWgMWQUqruhTVNGpaf5Mr3TRC4o4tvBRSJG0xx6qFoqlodBMS0RMUwcmeb7RACeXijF3W1THHTZB5pfyH3kngpVudd0CCz44RUizFHyeiZn_fChW9Mqdo/s1600/IMG_1548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOz7VA6pyMzCiEmQlazx6adKfWgMWQUqruhTVNGpaf5Mr3TRC4o4tvBRSJG0xx6qFoqlodBMS0RMUwcmeb7RACeXijF3W1THHTZB5pfyH3kngpVudd0CCz44RUizFHyeiZn_fChW9Mqdo/s320/IMG_1548.JPG" width="240" /> </a></div>
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Super Roller Chick Kim's 11th birthday cake. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiyqYzW1zu20HgMirQrawL4cRVA4R2PGU0C8MVlXxwbi3COyfLughudBTYuXM2sqeMd7HbDxz66zSOc0lX66vvgJBs6oghk38sCk8BeXFoh8XkKwZsmP132Lt8p7zTi2Gx7nG_HfJdbAH/s1600/0528111650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiyqYzW1zu20HgMirQrawL4cRVA4R2PGU0C8MVlXxwbi3COyfLughudBTYuXM2sqeMd7HbDxz66zSOc0lX66vvgJBs6oghk38sCk8BeXFoh8XkKwZsmP132Lt8p7zTi2Gx7nG_HfJdbAH/s320/0528111650.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrThpif-6O1BB-v5KUPCwFBSuMfhYmhh4Xw4p1X2i7iPWvI9nI0InnbwJNGpR_a6a8qrlRj7o_I2qYkKPpOkcYPztYfZFI1PES1DxPQpX4zlHvNdocUOCrDBzmh_w8zdtIzoV7izCK07x/s1600/0528111821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrThpif-6O1BB-v5KUPCwFBSuMfhYmhh4Xw4p1X2i7iPWvI9nI0InnbwJNGpR_a6a8qrlRj7o_I2qYkKPpOkcYPztYfZFI1PES1DxPQpX4zlHvNdocUOCrDBzmh_w8zdtIzoV7izCK07x/s320/0528111821.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Let's try not to laugh at my attempt at a sock monkey cake.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
First time we worked with modeling chocolate and it was FUN!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9_fbuFl18SGvQs00uR98SBL9kxE1PwSvtdQuJ7pdB9sRMybgnAeESI5CfrJ2ru_KcijiFA-zg9yvafEa86YGK3gl7A3LTsHGxVJIDvlaPTMqaujYZ1jhrg0lMfZBdPXcW4ttXHdS1SMj/s1600/IMG_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9_fbuFl18SGvQs00uR98SBL9kxE1PwSvtdQuJ7pdB9sRMybgnAeESI5CfrJ2ru_KcijiFA-zg9yvafEa86YGK3gl7A3LTsHGxVJIDvlaPTMqaujYZ1jhrg0lMfZBdPXcW4ttXHdS1SMj/s320/IMG_0020.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Kim's 12th birthday looked awesome except for being lopsided and tasting really bad! lol </div>
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Note for future: Test new cake recipes BEFORE making the actual birthday cake.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, those are some of the cakes we've made through the years. </div>
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Hope it made you smile!</div>
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That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-15183881406465427212013-02-10T17:41:00.000-08:002013-02-10T17:41:10.064-08:00The Cycle In My Head<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uw8N2NzfeY71qcoyNDIph3QKSU36CTZu0tRz41OCyRdV3IEyAomD48aplBpThSLG3IOe0laalowZ45EUKdMnJDaVDt3VoiExdNGBjj5w0gtTXakSxtLxcX5EceLCU79VPd4kafEUvEC2/s1600/9-20-12+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uw8N2NzfeY71qcoyNDIph3QKSU36CTZu0tRz41OCyRdV3IEyAomD48aplBpThSLG3IOe0laalowZ45EUKdMnJDaVDt3VoiExdNGBjj5w0gtTXakSxtLxcX5EceLCU79VPd4kafEUvEC2/s400/9-20-12+024.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nobody
trips over mountains. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It is the small pebble that causes you to
stumble. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Pass all the pebbles in your path </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and you will find you have
crossed the mountain. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">~Author Unknown~</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">Depression sucks. After 13 years of this, you'd think that I'd be able to ignore it or shrug it off easier, but that's just not the way it works for me. A lot of times, it is insidious and it sneaks up before I even notice it. All of a sudden, I feel like everything is just too hard and I want to go to bed. Most of the time, I don't. Most of the time. I end up giving up everything that's good for me for a day or two, then feeling like a failure and not going back to them, then I don't blog because I'm embarrassed that I failed, and on and on until even I'm bored of myself. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">I'm trying to fail forward. I'm trying to learn from my failures, and I'm trying not to give up. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When the world says, "Give up,"<br />
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."<br />
~Author Unknown~</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">So,back on track. Back to the 90 Kick Ass Days challenge (even though I missed many of them!) </span></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://theracyredhead.com/2013/01/10/90-kickass-days/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGb7p8R3xRWDoy7OcxwlHzr-g6yR3orpEZaVCnxShz_ZoMB4BPBjxuYLLw7EGNT75BY7wneIU_GzYkxHSlYqKY-Y2BRh46qIS2aqnhlHcRLmU7PiTOsDEXJ9KnoscrPHxxREpWW8nMTUMS/s320/%2390KickASsDays.jpg" width="320" /><span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"> </span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">and taking on DietBet.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.dietbet.com/games/8805" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wYMvGZ1sxHzOG20uC8McpvR1DEE7fVwb_fBF0yycVkVgkwTxEUDS7HDmtzIeZc7vCm5QnCnAxTN1jj3V2x8yuQ2Ub7-GwAmLD5BW-TTiznlrBq1s43qbzmTJDbziAmhyNtFSGGiT5mGi/s1600/money-scale.png" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"> Okay, time to dust off me bum, again, and start all over. Again.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">That is all.</span></div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-6738946338228592472013-01-11T21:20:00.001-08:002013-01-11T21:20:54.595-08:00Get Moving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGKF_Cs3ycd4PNVGzpYs10Cv09J7ZlQ0odsbMNvYr5vwaWWYmf4ZEIul7LRALFOMvcMeWii9CnHJEGrvvIjwvkYPlxPd-ZZHnm34MMKMSyQoPVoD25O_Wa6O_n7JCRbYWBNCDMJdUTyEJ/s1600/IMG_0990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGKF_Cs3ycd4PNVGzpYs10Cv09J7ZlQ0odsbMNvYr5vwaWWYmf4ZEIul7LRALFOMvcMeWii9CnHJEGrvvIjwvkYPlxPd-ZZHnm34MMKMSyQoPVoD25O_Wa6O_n7JCRbYWBNCDMJdUTyEJ/s400/IMG_0990.JPG" width="328" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today is Day 3 of <a href="http://theracyredhead.com/2013/01/10/90-kickass-days/" target="_blank">90 KickAss Days</a>.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday I walked for 26 minutes </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(5 minutes more than Wednesday which made me happy)! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, I still wussed out and walked around and around my garage because it's in the 20's here and it's really dark where I live and I'm scared of monsters.....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
:)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today I worked out with Becca on the Wii. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Phew. I kept up for almost all of it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There were two exercises I couldn't do very well but I walked in place during them and during the cool down. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am really proud of myself.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Reasons I love working out with my skinny friends:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They inspire me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They don't mock me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They encourage me through the whole workout</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They praise me when I'm done</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Okay, I'm sure that my fat friends would totally do all those things as well </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but I didn't work out with them today, so there.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Plus, there's only room for one fat chick making jokes during a workout. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, you can head over to <a href="https://twitter.com/susfine" target="_blank">Twitter</a> and join us using the hashtag #90kickassdays if you want!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I feel really accomplished working out these last three days.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hope you join us or at least get moving!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That is all. </div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-29104978692924207472013-01-10T00:15:00.001-08:002013-01-10T00:16:38.021-08:0090 Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://theracyredhead.com/2013/01/10/90-kickass-days/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkIAJsEmdp6fx7xA9eqio15Vhc03I4Cq4z_qEFKZEGgeeOud8tHt1B24mZwkQ_xDiFHWm5ep1ZtPYN0XyqCAHARgPC2f1jfJTWJVbn_CM2pS9Fgwi_opuINvSyfuXIHm2gc8QxC3yQCX44/s320/%2390KickASsDays.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Once again, Cyn over at <a href="http://www.theracyredhead.com/" target="_blank">The Racy Redhead</a> inspires me to get my butt moving!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
1/9/13: Day One of 90 Kick Ass Days</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I didn't read this until almost 8pm last night so I walked around and around my garage for 21 minutes which is about all I can do right now. I'd walk outside but it's cold and I'm a wuss! </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hope you'll pop onto <a href="http://twitter.com/susfine" target="_blank">Twitter </a>and keep me (and Cyn) updated with your progress using the hashtag #90kickassdays!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-66832294981841407462013-01-09T19:08:00.004-08:002013-01-09T19:08:50.684-08:00Priscilla<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSN0D_oIlWZR8aRPPtEY91Gq-MK9XOpbHrUyVHmqQhUGmiVQaFwLRM5bhxFfDPqKYAVeVd5VT2lHAjy-58nACD7HEPtzEBNX3yCz4pB9I4MgAxSPYgLBldtlDG-etHnAJwDUBgVVyBe3S/s1600/530463_428735607196462_1388117682_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSN0D_oIlWZR8aRPPtEY91Gq-MK9XOpbHrUyVHmqQhUGmiVQaFwLRM5bhxFfDPqKYAVeVd5VT2lHAjy-58nACD7HEPtzEBNX3yCz4pB9I4MgAxSPYgLBldtlDG-etHnAJwDUBgVVyBe3S/s320/530463_428735607196462_1388117682_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Although this is not a picture of my dog, it might as well be!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She has decided that she is a part time guard dog. By part-time, I mean that she barks when she wants to! </div>
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She's great though! We adopted her at the end of November from the Whatcom Humane Society.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She is a 3 year old short hair chihuahua and is absolutely magnificent.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She is sweet, loving, nervous, needy, and such a delight.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8oQszjXGlqvqyeNCZxx4P3USsj3UX_IgwsEFSdK7ws_nvVyl3MS0SWoJum5950Sck5qazfa_EwP_DkZLqeiu7oYDiHW2gK9hUe-dMwHeCYap1royWwvdfaG2nJBbltfCezoB8_y-tCAd/s1600/102_0739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8oQszjXGlqvqyeNCZxx4P3USsj3UX_IgwsEFSdK7ws_nvVyl3MS0SWoJum5950Sck5qazfa_EwP_DkZLqeiu7oYDiHW2gK9hUe-dMwHeCYap1royWwvdfaG2nJBbltfCezoB8_y-tCAd/s320/102_0739.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is her and I today while Kevin made his first juice (more on that soon).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Isn't she pretty?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Check out your local shelter, save a life, and make your family even better!</div>
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<br /></div>
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That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-76761876520383788352013-01-04T14:31:00.001-08:002013-01-04T14:31:28.023-08:002013? Really?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLzOs2rMOhTt8cnnigfkD16L0Qg08FH_ykbX8oNTP6UpHmSlm8YY_mlNG0OOX7wQVzjOGzoH_a89qwFYvShGUU6Qa1DebGteA_HHS8gOw1rVI4ijx86blFbGSi9z0o6tIbwEUMwoI4xn8/s1600/IMG_0982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLzOs2rMOhTt8cnnigfkD16L0Qg08FH_ykbX8oNTP6UpHmSlm8YY_mlNG0OOX7wQVzjOGzoH_a89qwFYvShGUU6Qa1DebGteA_HHS8gOw1rVI4ijx86blFbGSi9z0o6tIbwEUMwoI4xn8/s400/IMG_0982.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
How is it even possible that it is 2013?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know, I've been all "Happy New Year" and "Wahoo" but I'm stunned.<br />
<br />
<br />
Phew!<br />
<br />
I've got a teenager now. She was just a little girl starting to walk and talk.<br />
Now, she's a young woman with her own opinions on life.<br />
<br />
Cherish every moment that you get in life.<br />
You don't know what is going to happen tomorrow.<br />
Love your family and friends like you won't be seeing them again.<br />
Hug your kids. Don't be too busy to listen to them tell you about their day.<br />
<br />
<br />
That is all. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-88794249033409527492013-01-02T22:30:00.001-08:002013-01-02T22:30:16.323-08:00Tired<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_jr1w92Y9jXbp_u31fb14iyknfk_kWWfiAwTnXMVeSDIQa5JXfEOw4UZ-9DNcdrsJUOSZt-sKPLKckZgFET9oTzlDyDdpiVQJzQdj90AtedU2BYwIGExO-quapMSomLTSCIoQp5LYhWaX/s1600/IMG_0710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_jr1w92Y9jXbp_u31fb14iyknfk_kWWfiAwTnXMVeSDIQa5JXfEOw4UZ-9DNcdrsJUOSZt-sKPLKckZgFET9oTzlDyDdpiVQJzQdj90AtedU2BYwIGExO-quapMSomLTSCIoQp5LYhWaX/s400/IMG_0710.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today's post has been postponed until tomorrow because my brain is tired.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That is all.</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-77498929930784057522013-01-01T13:27:00.000-08:002013-01-01T13:27:41.105-08:00Happy New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy8S3pwwMPlumHd_ZK1yXzs1fSvi2J50nFqtKpFt-oT9KkLQ943K2V4ijbE1ECpdiRweYY7VKuAuf8nR2XAQFPUxXrWy1eD268hZ3NlFdw9j4U-Eq4jRYdysZiWxP0NzB0C-8yKMmEVjg/s1600/IMG_0981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy8S3pwwMPlumHd_ZK1yXzs1fSvi2J50nFqtKpFt-oT9KkLQ943K2V4ijbE1ECpdiRweYY7VKuAuf8nR2XAQFPUxXrWy1eD268hZ3NlFdw9j4U-Eq4jRYdysZiWxP0NzB0C-8yKMmEVjg/s320/IMG_0981.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Welcome to 2013 everyone!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I wanted to let everyone know (and thank you for the well wishes everyone) that my dad is back home and doing fine. No stint was needed in his heart and he just needs to work on a few things. He's feeling great and is back to his normal self. We all appreciate the positive energy that you all created!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday was a great day with dad's birthday and doing well during the heart cath, New Year's Eve, and Shanny's birthday! For her dessert this year, she chose Unicorn Poop. Yep. It's one of the zillion reasons that we love her like we do. Here is a before and after shot of the unicorn poop.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47gnzotIzztDXqQPG6zBHaW64iUaHkYQI3tZLHhlPFxbUEEy1cMErMuOguTwOmTSNn50jm-rgfx_U4we42pUQdqIvUiWigHGx3dr1sjAh6F_quSTPu4_4R1p29FV4McfzSyCEiyJYxwGs/s1600/102_0713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47gnzotIzztDXqQPG6zBHaW64iUaHkYQI3tZLHhlPFxbUEEy1cMErMuOguTwOmTSNn50jm-rgfx_U4we42pUQdqIvUiWigHGx3dr1sjAh6F_quSTPu4_4R1p29FV4McfzSyCEiyJYxwGs/s320/102_0713.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtY5vpT2caSnPmzhauLM9k74QIUxp3THpbj6kqfw3Zz9MMdLPVG4rjdMJtr6gwtVek7QBbkloNVwXLMuJpL_cXtxtvzgkLz-xBWK95gm0Pqw338WGexfVa4WybDoF6ix2WbCyPeCgIFcIt/s1600/IMG_0974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtY5vpT2caSnPmzhauLM9k74QIUxp3THpbj6kqfw3Zz9MMdLPVG4rjdMJtr6gwtVek7QBbkloNVwXLMuJpL_cXtxtvzgkLz-xBWK95gm0Pqw338WGexfVa4WybDoF6ix2WbCyPeCgIFcIt/s320/IMG_0974.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don't do resolutions on new year's because I try to improve all year long. </div>
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I do know that this year I'd like to get serious about my health, my blog, and my businesses. </div>
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I always seem to have some excuse why I haven't done these things but it boils down to laziness.</div>
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I'd like to really stop being so lazy.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So that is what I shall work on.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I hope that your 2013 is the best that you can make it!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Blessings, Light, and Love to you all for a new and better year.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
That is all.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-10969200532953073752012-12-31T10:14:00.001-08:002012-12-31T10:14:04.656-08:00I Love You Daddy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPX2IOKuyS7RRugre9VkH4w5fe_r3Wmb8uw_sT7wbeU_SKp5wHtJ4OaAG2cpJ8PUMF9B6SjqMooIZbdSs0x9Xv74AzLoay47-GbBE1xuw1wy39jSLS_6MYffDJwJ3B3ZVoNGk-QSuturX/s1600/IMG_2793+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPX2IOKuyS7RRugre9VkH4w5fe_r3Wmb8uw_sT7wbeU_SKp5wHtJ4OaAG2cpJ8PUMF9B6SjqMooIZbdSs0x9Xv74AzLoay47-GbBE1xuw1wy39jSLS_6MYffDJwJ3B3ZVoNGk-QSuturX/s320/IMG_2793+-+Copy.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Happy Birthday Daddy!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Be safe and well today.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My love is with you during your procedure today, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as it always is.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I tried to find a good quote that said all that I want to say.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I couldn't find one because they all weren't good enough.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank you for showing me to be a good person.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank you for loving me even when I falter.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank you for knowing when I need to hear "I love you".</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I may have my own little girl, but I will always be your little girl.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I love you Daddy!</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-81848128219352426102012-11-23T16:13:00.000-08:002012-11-23T16:13:02.670-08:00Twas 4am On Black Friday<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Twas 4am on Black Friday, and
all through the house</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">The alarm clocks were
buzzing, people starting to grouse.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Blankets thrown off without
even a care,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">We got up and shuffled on,
with a zombie like stare.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">My child was nestled all snug
in her bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">She’s grumpy that early, I
don’t want bloodshed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Beth in her hoodie and I in
fuzzy socks</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Had our hearts set on fleece pjs
and on my black crocs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">When in my kitchen there
arose such a clatter,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">“You’re making a smoothie?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is the matter?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">To the kitchen I waddled kind
of slow like a duck,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">“Are you crazy, are you
serious, what the fuck?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">The moon outside was hiding
behind clouds,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">We were inside preparing for
crowds.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">When, what to my wondering
ears should sound,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">A text telling me it’s time that
we were store bound.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Now Becca, now Susan, now Bethie,
and Tim,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">We’re off to Fred Meyer,
where to begin?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Electronics, Housewares,
Toys, or Apparel?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">I began to think “These
people have gone feral”.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Their eyes did not twinkle,
no dimples so merry,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Their cheeks flushed like
winos, their faces were scary.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">We plastered on smiles, we’d
make someone happy,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">And if not, we’ve got Becca
who’s really quite scrappy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">We made it through without a
single harsh word,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">I’m so very proud that I didn’t
get flustered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Straight out to the car we
did hustle,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">Carrying that stuff took some
serious muscle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">With Beth off to work, three
of us crawled inside<br />
Another Black Friday down and nobody cried.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">I opened the window and out
of the car I did lean,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;">"See you all later,
we’re off to Cool Beans"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;"><span style="color: black;">My rhyming leaves something to be desired, but it was a great morning! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;"><span style="color: black;">I hope everyone had a safe and happy day today.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #7030a0;"><span style="color: black;">That is all. </span></span></div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6474282697511532092.post-2227821396145213892012-11-10T12:01:00.002-08:002012-11-10T12:01:51.981-08:00Happy 13th Birthday Baby!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqIiRbAPzglgVnRhiE9FoKEez6W05MyR0Xf5DQlyAyi5Q25LGIXW56XwfBs7bbDiSkqdEL5dOJd6ZUbU7t5Lb8vlea3EOmAXY42FcqnsV-kkFuAVtxlA-EZargXTBh94y7peY4OsUNV7E/s1600/1031121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqIiRbAPzglgVnRhiE9FoKEez6W05MyR0Xf5DQlyAyi5Q25LGIXW56XwfBs7bbDiSkqdEL5dOJd6ZUbU7t5Lb8vlea3EOmAXY42FcqnsV-kkFuAVtxlA-EZargXTBh94y7peY4OsUNV7E/s400/1031121.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTqGbbLzT81mg8tWrOeVh9b37m4pwuRJT1-dmOQKS03Ohz87LZGNbzN23W8iH6uHfHsFpCdqMhGTecK-5TW0NShEk0TctoxGslvHwPeOAbctUMl19mMN4kgVe6aCrM_ek8M94CwwLPK0m/s1600/IMG_0926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I cannot tell you how proud I am of the woman that you are becoming.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Your love, compassion, and beauty overwhelm me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Your Grandma Chris would adore you!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Know how much you are loved my baby girl.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Being your mother is a privilege that I spend every day being thankful for.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Happy 13th Birthday Kimberly!</div>
I'm free of the abusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00268444000594512557noreply@blogger.com2