tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80940201611252174522024-03-12T14:40:51.853-08:00pieces of the puzzleliving the cottage life, Alaskan style....The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.comBlogger241125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-7040514554858878042011-07-12T20:12:00.000-08:002011-07-12T20:12:21.185-08:00I've moved!I've moved! I tried my darnedest to figure out how to combine my two blogs, but just could not. So please follow this link to my new blog, <a href="http://theweatheredpane.blogspot.com/">The Weathered Pane</a>! It's still about me and my life, with a little garden thrown in, some food, lots of grandkids, an occasional funny and all that. See you! <em>Nancy</em>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-20863282527281954322011-06-28T16:55:00.000-08:002011-06-28T16:55:16.782-08:00projects waitingDo you have problem getting your husband to do projects around the house? Like painting? I do. Some times. I can bring it up in a conversation many times over and still nothing. I know plenty of women who would just take the bull by the horn and head to the paint store and get the paint and stirring stick and trays and anything else they need and do the job themselves. My husband won't let me paint. He knows how I would do it.... and he's right.... I'm a sloppy painter. I wouldn't tape baseboards or trim or light fixtures. I would paint right around it all.... <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4WBlorXWEx4/Tgn1TuUXp7I/AAAAAAAAGz0/BCeK8Z7eEPk/s1600/CIMG1291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4WBlorXWEx4/Tgn1TuUXp7I/AAAAAAAAGz0/BCeK8Z7eEPk/s320/CIMG1291.JPG" width="240px" /></a>Confession: When I get to that point that I'm ready to paint myself.... all I have to say is: "I think I'm going to paint the bathroom" and my husband will be on it it just like THAT! Do I actually intend to paint myself? No! I just know my husband will realize at this point that I am dead serious about getting the job done and he will, at that point, get on board with me. He's a good man. <br />
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With that said, I am "allowed" to paint outside! Where the spray paint can dissipate throughout the neighborhood and the paint on the blades of grass will get mowed. Yes, here I am master! Well, kinda sorta. He still directs me, which is fine, because what do I know about the proper way of using a can of spray paint.... <br />
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I have a couple projects this week. Lawn chairs. Those ugly, white, plastic lawn chairs that over time get stained and you dread having company sit in them. So I decided to paint them. A lime green. Or the closest color I could find. <br />
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I have to say that even spray painting is hard for me. I end up with drips, and runs, and dark blotches. So I sigh a heavy sigh of frustration, and my sweet man will take over and fix it all for me. Does he know I plan it that way? We do make a good team. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdSrgF2LUIk/Tgn1V1C30jI/AAAAAAAAGz4/6MZajMmgPKQ/s1600/CIMG1293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdSrgF2LUIk/Tgn1V1C30jI/AAAAAAAAGz4/6MZajMmgPKQ/s320/CIMG1293.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NS9c7-SqX9w/Tgn1X5BpuiI/AAAAAAAAGz8/8utMBcexwtQ/s1600/CIMG1292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NS9c7-SqX9w/Tgn1X5BpuiI/AAAAAAAAGz8/8utMBcexwtQ/s320/CIMG1292.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div><br />
Another project is this old chandelier I found at a garage sale for $5.00. I painted one a few years ago, but it turned out so well, that I thought I'd do another one. I bought white paint.... but am tempted to paint it a color much brighter! Say lime or light blue....? <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OmwRqaabufg/Tgn1ZXBWARI/AAAAAAAAG0A/xFi2-D3cLpc/s1600/CIMG1289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OmwRqaabufg/Tgn1ZXBWARI/AAAAAAAAG0A/xFi2-D3cLpc/s320/CIMG1289.JPG" width="240px" /></a><br />
What do you think? The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-590317229221312132011-06-26T07:16:00.008-08:002011-06-28T06:43:02.757-08:00Tracy Arm FjiordFor those of you who don't know..... Juneau is land locked. We're part of the mainland, but there are no roads in or out of Juneau. The only way you can leave is by plane or boat. This makes it not only expensive, but also difficult, to get away for the weekend. For those of us without a boat, a day trip is usually a drive "out the road." From one end to the other of our road system is about 60 miles. <br />
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Another option for a day trip is to take a cruise to Tracy Arm. This is a full day of pure enjoyment as you join Adventure Bound Alaska for some of the most beautiful scenery in the world! <br />
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That's what we did on Monday. My sister is visiting Juneau and it was a challenge to come up with some kind of activity that would keep her mind occupied for the day. This was important because it was the one-year anniversary of her husband's passing.... We knew it would be a difficult day for her. That there could be a lot of deep sadness. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wse_k_xFX30/TgdPG0hy9sI/AAAAAAAAGzI/-jnSsrdoAVg/s1600/CIMG1137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wse_k_xFX30/TgdPG0hy9sI/AAAAAAAAGzI/-jnSsrdoAVg/s320/CIMG1137.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div>So we packed some survival food.... and headed to the Captain Cook, a 65' sightseeing boat. Along the journey we saw so many whales....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OcSU6aWgCj0/TgdPNgJigLI/AAAAAAAAGzM/z8tXSslwEyA/s1600/CIMG1165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OcSU6aWgCj0/TgdPNgJigLI/AAAAAAAAGzM/z8tXSslwEyA/s320/CIMG1165.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div>And icebergs.... Deep deep blue in color. They say 80 percent of the berg is under water so just imagine the damage this berg could do to our little boat! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6fbw9T4JPU/TgdPR6yAcPI/AAAAAAAAGzQ/tklbYsygVls/s1600/CIMG1177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6fbw9T4JPU/TgdPR6yAcPI/AAAAAAAAGzQ/tklbYsygVls/s320/CIMG1177.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
I love finding shapes in objects--like this mushroom. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zI6EGgGRMxA/TgdPb26p5hI/AAAAAAAAGzU/viRdeTukTbQ/s1600/CIMG1180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zI6EGgGRMxA/TgdPb26p5hI/AAAAAAAAGzU/viRdeTukTbQ/s320/CIMG1180.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
We saw some of the most incredible scenery, with sheer cliffs etched out from glaciers long ago. There were deep deep cracks in walls of rock that look like it would break away at any minute. Dainty yellow, orange, blue and red wild flowers creeping along any inch of surface they could find. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1jTohjamJvs/TgdPlrWpQEI/AAAAAAAAGzY/SS3VHHQw1LY/s1600/CIMG1199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1jTohjamJvs/TgdPlrWpQEI/AAAAAAAAGzY/SS3VHHQw1LY/s320/CIMG1199.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is a trip everyone should take. At least once in their life time. I know Steve (my sister's husband) would have enjoyed this trip immensely as he was a mountain climber in his younger days. I bet he would have imagined himself climbing these very sheer cliffs. <br />
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But Steve is in another place now. Or so we thought.... Imagine my surprise when I learned that the Captain's name on the boat was Captain Steve! Coincidence? I think not. I hope my sister found peace on this day. </div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-9798688459141487432011-06-25T21:38:00.002-08:002011-06-25T22:15:26.040-08:00Father's DayWell, a little late posting pictures of Father's Day, but things have been busy here! It doesn't get much better than my son fixing us dinner. He's some kind of master chef, and everything he makes is a 5 star meal. I could certainly make the <u>same</u> meal, but it would never taste the same. <br />
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Like vegies roasted on the grill. They would be over cooked, or the onions would be under cooked. I'd have too much olive oil on it or not the right spices... It would be edible but wouldn't have that "just right" taste. <br />
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Our menu meat consisted of slow cooked country ribs. And by "slow cooked," I mean slooooooowwwww cooked. Four hours of cooking on a briquette bbque. They were the best ribs I've ever had. <br />
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Hunter learning to be a camera man: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d3tC18b4ZbQ/TgOEkbJZuaI/AAAAAAAAGyY/uIqMtwB7tHM/s1600/CIMG1064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d3tC18b4ZbQ/TgOEkbJZuaI/AAAAAAAAGyY/uIqMtwB7tHM/s320/CIMG1064.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ellis and Grandpa Soapy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BB3_Y1MrDi0/TgOEmQC_nUI/AAAAAAAAGyc/9YXSMmCrfsg/s1600/CIMG1065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BB3_Y1MrDi0/TgOEmQC_nUI/AAAAAAAAGyc/9YXSMmCrfsg/s320/CIMG1065.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Little Miss Avery. She's all tom boy! Look at how dirty she is!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PpBaTnQo6uc/TgOErV1EPMI/AAAAAAAAGyk/hAv_1QJMKhs/s1600/CIMG1068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PpBaTnQo6uc/TgOErV1EPMI/AAAAAAAAGyk/hAv_1QJMKhs/s320/CIMG1068.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The finished meal: slow cooked ribs, marinated flank steak, grilled vegies, and a salad. A meal certainly fit for any king! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thank you, kids, for the best day ever! </div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-34397389279392978922011-06-24T06:14:00.000-08:002011-06-24T06:18:51.962-08:00what my birds do....I love my Blue Jays, don't get me wrong... But my beautiful flower boxes go from this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bPUAKlftTwA/TgN4NeXHWeI/AAAAAAAAGyQ/ghcM0cnotzw/s1600/CIMG1002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bPUAKlftTwA/TgN4NeXHWeI/AAAAAAAAGyQ/ghcM0cnotzw/s320/CIMG1002.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
To this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a6xT0K7mDXY/TgN3aU3uFII/AAAAAAAAGyE/Ii_KTpRPuKQ/s1600/CIMG1093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a6xT0K7mDXY/TgN3aU3uFII/AAAAAAAAGyE/Ii_KTpRPuKQ/s320/CIMG1093.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
The Blue Jays scatter my soil all over the place, and new seedings get tossed to the ground.... <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-av_WqjJL9sk/TgN3g7ZJP8I/AAAAAAAAGyI/-QhyN5GZ7as/s1600/CIMG1089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-av_WqjJL9sk/TgN3g7ZJP8I/AAAAAAAAGyI/-QhyN5GZ7as/s320/CIMG1089.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
They pick the lettuce and the green onions. They peck off the flowers from my plants as if they're saying, "he loves he he loves me not, he loves me he loves me not...." This is (WAS) a beautiful rose....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3fu6I7wztY/TgN3lRnsATI/AAAAAAAAGyM/B7xdIIykObg/s1600/CIMG1087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3fu6I7wztY/TgN3lRnsATI/AAAAAAAAGyM/B7xdIIykObg/s320/CIMG1087.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div>I don't know what to do about these birds of mine. I suspect they're planting the peanuts I give them, so I have no one to blame but myself! But some times I think they do it just out of spite, because I didn't feed them when they thought they should be fed. I guess I'll never know.The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-62516340725581826942011-06-23T08:01:00.000-08:002011-06-23T08:01:52.670-08:00today....<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today is my birthday.... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am a "young" 59...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Well, my mind feels like a young 45, but my body...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">yea... 59... maybe 60.... </span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_hqTTOq6FCM/TgNfV37fYWI/AAAAAAAAGyA/j3RNamudH90/s1600/CIMG0990.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_hqTTOq6FCM/TgNfV37fYWI/AAAAAAAAGyA/j3RNamudH90/s320/CIMG0990.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: 0% 50%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today my sister also comes to town....!</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We'll celebrate my birthday, then tomorrow go on a day cruise to Tracy Arm Fjiord.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of the death of her husband,</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">and I'm hoping a day trip will help ease the pain of the day. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">We'll put in a full day of babysitting. I suspect the grandkids will be on their best behavior with someone new in the house....</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Then the birthday celebration.... </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I've never cared for birthdays and probably need to do some deep reflecting on why....</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Maybe I don't want to be forgotten.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Or maybe I WAS forgotten once....</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I know I'm not keen on a lot of personal attention.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Or picture taking (I take HORRIBLE pictures!), of which there will be some taken.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Maybe I secretly DO want all the attention....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But don't want to be disappointed when people don't show the love....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">so I pretend like it doesn't matter to me....<br />
(course, you'd have to LET them know it's your birthday<br />
if you want the attention)</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Maybe I've been disappointed in gifts before....</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Like the jump rope I got many many years ago from my husband... because he thought I could lose some weight.... (yea.... he's no longer my husband!)</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm certainly not one of those people who celebrate all week long. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I dread this day and only wait for it to be over....</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But then there's all the love from family and friends,</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">and it makes it a good day</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">and I wonder.... why do I hate birthdays so much?</span></div></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-53017059163465677392011-01-01T08:05:00.002-09:002011-01-02T08:33:20.340-09:00another yearGee, can you believe another year come and gone. It seemed like just yesterday that we were fretting over the end of the world in 2000. I'm not a big fan of New Year's Eve for a couple reasons, one of them I've just come to realize recently.<br />
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Where turning a year older on my birthday doesn't bother me, New Years does for that very reason. I feel another year has passed me by. Another year of possibly missed opportunities, un-wise spending, and unrealized dreams. Another year closer to the unknown. And this worries me. Just for the day. I'll spend the day reflecting on this past year, what went wrong, what I could have done differently or not at all, and how I can make improvements. I'll set priorities and goals, write them down in my notebook, and work throughout the year to continue achieving them. And every year I get better at it. <br />
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You see, I'm a list-oriented person. I make lists. Long lists. Short lists. Lists categorized. And lists of silliness. I write it all down in my annual notebook, where I keep all my most important papers, ideas, and plans. When I travel, I take this notebook with me. Why? I have no idea.... Other than it's important to me. It has my life in it. Or how I see my life. Or how I wish my life was. <br />
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So, today, I'll reflect. Not a lot, but enough to put the past year in perspective and determine whether or not I'm heading in the right direction. To set new goals, if need be. In doing so, I'm realistic. You won't find "lose 50 pounds" because I know, in reality, that for me to lose any weight, I need to work on five pounds at a time. But I will include "eat healthier" or "cut down on portions" or "cut back on sweets." Lifestyle changes.<br />
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This year I'm including a couple new goals:<br />
<ol><li>Be more frugal. Really consider whether I need the item I'm about to purchase.</li>
<li>Use cash for weekly grocery shopping. I've heard this cuts back on your spree spending.</li>
<li>Look at the ingredients list of all things. If I can't pronounce the ingredients, or know what they are, continue shopping. We've noticed we shop more in the Organics section now.</li>
<li>To use, reuse, or refuse. We already recycle as much as our city allows, but there's still so much waste. I'm going to try to get away from buying products that have so much packaging, or packaging that can't be recycled. And even if it can be recycled.... maybe I can find another use for it and extend the life a little longer before sending to the dump. Like mail. I keep all envelopes that come in the mail now and use them for notes or grocery lists before recycling. </li>
<li>Pay myself first. This simple thing.... yet so hard to do.... This year, "pay myself first" is on the top of my list. </li>
</ol>So there you have it. Some of my new goals for 2011. The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-22893779020459030872010-12-30T10:49:00.001-09:002010-12-30T11:48:49.459-09:00christmas 2010Christmas is over for another year. It's SO over, that we already have our trees down and decorations put away! It just seemed the right thing to do. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgbd5kRLI/AAAAAAAAGsU/WILOA9z4Vyk/s1600/CIMG0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgbd5kRLI/AAAAAAAAGsU/WILOA9z4Vyk/s320/CIMG0006.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was a good Christmas. Josh, Nicholas and Shodie were here to join us this year. It's been a few years since we woke up to a big Christmas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then we had a long wait before the rest of the kids joined us at 4:00. Dinner was made. Table set. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgiT8kPNI/AAAAAAAAGsc/OW5BUoIFFU8/s1600/CIMG0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgiT8kPNI/AAAAAAAAGsc/OW5BUoIFFU8/s320/CIMG0073.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then the chaos that is Christmas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgmO88RsI/AAAAAAAAGsg/7oskaR7XIXo/s1600/CIMG0094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgmO88RsI/AAAAAAAAGsg/7oskaR7XIXo/s320/CIMG0094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
It was Avery's first Christmas and she knew exactly what needed to be done. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgpRFLBhI/AAAAAAAAGsk/1qgurQkkY-0/s1600/CIMG0097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRzgpRFLBhI/AAAAAAAAGsk/1qgurQkkY-0/s320/CIMG0097.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
It was a good day. A long day. But an even longer day for the big kids and grandkids. I'm thinking we need to rethink our Christmas Day plans next year so the kids might be able to enjoy the spirit of Christmas rather than watching the clock to see where they need to be next....The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-75005085566244289732010-12-26T08:01:00.000-09:002010-12-26T08:01:10.310-09:00lump crab<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Do you ever question your sanity? Whether everything is really okay with you? Mentally? Or do you pass it off as <em>just getting older....</em>? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">We were getting ready to head to some friends the other night,for some holiday cheer.... I offered to bring an appetizer. My first choice was going to be crab tarts but I didn't have any Dungeness in the freezer nor could I find any cracked Dungee at the supermarket. You can buy canned crab off the shelf, but what's "lump crab"? Seriously? Is that the name of a type of crab--like Dungeness or King? Maybe a combination of crab? Anyhow, we opted against using a generic crab.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Plan B was to take some prawns over with a little cocktail sauce. That would be festive, and who doesn't love to chomp into a nice, cold prawn? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Unless it's a nice, cold, RAW prawn! I don't know what I was thinking. Mike offered to peel them while I got ready. I told him to rinse them good, and I showed him how to then lay them on a triple layer of paper towel to dry them off good. I'd even gone so far as to lay them on a platter, surrounding a dish of cocktail sauce. It was all so nice and pretty.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Then it happened. I grabbed one to take a bite and it was like I had been hit over the side of the head. WHAT WAS I THINKING?! How did I go from fresh frozen, in the freezer, to the platter? When did I stop having the good sense to cook raw seafood??? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Can you imagine how mortified I would have been had I taken that pretty little plate of tidbits to our friends for their gathering? Really. Seriously. Can you???</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">This isn't the first thing that has had me questioning my mental state of mind.... but the worst. </span>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-39891558373496796012010-12-24T08:00:00.000-09:002010-12-24T08:00:07.997-09:00merry christmas<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">My letter to Santa was short this year. I asked for peace. Peace for my family and friends who are struggling with relationships, finances, and grief. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">If I could, I'd wrap my arms around all of you and keep you safe. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">You're in my prayers every day and my hope is that you have a blessed Christmas and a wonderful new year filled with good things and small miracles. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I pray that no matter what kind of Christmas you're having, you can feel God's love and blessings sprinkled around you in all that you do. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S !</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRTI8Wis-jI/AAAAAAAAGsA/Kro6TWr7XqU/s1600/PC200018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRTI8Wis-jI/AAAAAAAAGsA/Kro6TWr7XqU/s320/PC200018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div align="left" style="text-align: center;"></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-15444543330061506832010-12-23T19:09:00.000-09:002010-12-24T07:11:37.240-09:00it was so worth itHey, sis. I suspect you're sound asleep as it's midnight on the east coast. I just wanted to let you know that I ate a cinnamon roll for you. I know how you're going in withdrawals. <br />
<br />
Mike makes a batch every year for Christmas. It makes four pie pan sizes. Some years they're huge, too big for me, but this year he really hit it on the nail. I wasn't going to have one. My blood sugar, you know. But that would have been just plain rude not to eat one. Disrespectful. So I did. And I can feel my blood sugar rise as we speak. But it was so worth it. Especially with that dabble of butter melted on top. Oh. So. Good. <br />
<br />
It's going to be a long night. I'm washing bedding.... This isn't something I would normally do at 5:15 at night, but Hunter had a little accident during nap time. You would think I'd have learned by now.... and put a rubber pad underneath the kids during nap time. But I don't. Well, not always. And especially not Hunter because it's been a long time since he's had an accident. So the bed got stripped down to the pad and the comforters and sheets are being washed. It's just that those big, bulky comforters take <u>forever</u> to dry. You have to keep turning and fluffing them. Well, maybe by 10:00, it'll all be done.<br />
<br />
We had a good craft project day today. On the spur of the moment, we decided to make gingerbread houses. Okay, first off....this isn't something you do on the spur of the moment. Had I given it any thought, we would have done the frame of the gingerbread house yesterday or the day before and let the frosting set.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdQq52cZI/AAAAAAAAGq8/f6ecn_DtJCk/s1600/PC220005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdQq52cZI/AAAAAAAAGq8/f6ecn_DtJCk/s320/PC220005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>OR.... here's an idea.... Maybe I should have tried making one on my own before subjecting to the little kids to it! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdVyh3E4I/AAAAAAAAGrA/SaHSASL5vtY/s1600/PC220014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdVyh3E4I/AAAAAAAAGrA/SaHSASL5vtY/s320/PC220014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>But they had a blast and put so much energy into it. They really concentrated.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdatGJt8I/AAAAAAAAGrE/LqHKiOwV8Zg/s1600/PC220023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdatGJt8I/AAAAAAAAGrE/LqHKiOwV8Zg/s320/PC220023.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>I felt horribly bad when the roof would slide off... or the walls would collapse. But we didn't let it deter (Peeezzzzz nahhhhhhh) and I'd re-caulk it with frosting and we'd continue on. I did find that putting a graham cracker on the bottom to kinda hold it all in place was a good move. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdeIYYoiI/AAAAAAAAGrI/5G22y34IoD0/s1600/PC220025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdeIYYoiI/AAAAAAAAGrI/5G22y34IoD0/s320/PC220025.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>All in all, it was a fun morning and I'm so proud of the little kids for sticking with it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdgsVaFDI/AAAAAAAAGrM/UwsCRX4WiWA/s1600/PC220024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRLdgsVaFDI/AAAAAAAAGrM/UwsCRX4WiWA/s320/PC220024.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Then when their moms came, and they rushed them over to look at it, you just knew how proud they were. It's times like this that it makes babysitting so worthwhile. <br />
<br />
Hope you're having a good time. N.The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-36465161063526025142010-12-23T07:00:00.037-09:002010-12-23T07:38:33.095-09:00Christmas traditions<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>House decorated. Check.</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Cards sent. Check.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Cookies made. Check.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Tree decorated. Check.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Christmas Day dinner planned. Check.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Packages wrapped. Check.</span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yEL7zTyI/AAAAAAAAGp4/Zv9ZUWCoIUQ/s1600/PC170083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yEL7zTyI/AAAAAAAAGp4/Zv9ZUWCoIUQ/s320/PC170083.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yep, it looks like we're pretty much ready for Christmas to arrive. We still have a couple gifts to deliver, but will hopefully get that done Christmas Eve. We've been to a couple Holiday gatherings already. A new "first" was a Winter Solstice/Eggnog party, but we opted for a wine tasting party instead. What fun! </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I love traditions. Especially Christmas. We wake up extra early. The kids arrive. We have a nice breakfast. We leisurely open presents. We visit. Laugh. Talk. It's a good day. NOT! </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Oh, we have a wonderful Christmas, but ours is an extended family and some year's it's like putting together a puzzle, trying to make all the pieces fit. But they do. Every year our "tradition" is a little different. When the kids were small and still living at home, it was easy. Our dinner was usually ham and scalloped potatoes. Bucky made Chinese food a couple years. But now my menu varies depending on what time of day the kids arrive. Bucky and Michelle also have her family to visit--her mom/dad and grandparents. Plus it's her brother's birthday Christmas Eve! Talk about a full schedule. Poor kids. Course, they somehow manage to fit it all in. </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">But some times it's hard to work around all these other commitments into a holiday that also works for us. I mean, really, who wants to wait until 4:00 in the afternoon to open presents! I'd rather be in my pajamas recuperating! </span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yTPJPy1I/AAAAAAAAGp8/CQwY5o7SjCU/s1600/PC170097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yTPJPy1I/AAAAAAAAGp8/CQwY5o7SjCU/s320/PC170097.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Because our holiday has become somewhat "un"traditional, I try to put a little twist on opening presents. Maybe I'll think of a theme and buy gifts that fit within that theme. For instance, if one of the kids was into gardening, their gifts would fall within that theme--gloves, yard art, picture of gardens or flowers. </span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yc8nYMFI/AAAAAAAAGqA/7oFCqiOHz8c/s1600/PC170107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yc8nYMFI/AAAAAAAAGqA/7oFCqiOHz8c/s320/PC170107.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One year the kids couldn't open up their gift until they guessed what was INSIDE, based on the wrapping. That was fun. Bucky got his right off. A DVD player. His outside wrapping consisted of an electronics gift card hanging as a tag. Tracy's present was a big box tied with laundry line. For the life of her, she could not guess what her present was. The morning was dragging on. We were getting giddy from laughter. Finally, we had to start giving her verbal clues. I mean, the poor girl just could not figure out what was inside her box. Bucky started guessing, trying to help his sister. We gave Tracy clues that had to do with laundry, washing, etc. Finally, Bucky yells out "IT'S A LONGENBERGER BASKET!" How he ever figured it out, and not Tracy, I'll just never know. But it was a fun game.</span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yrwcO2zI/AAAAAAAAGqE/V4g9KZvCo4M/s1600/PC170105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_yrwcO2zI/AAAAAAAAGqE/V4g9KZvCo4M/s320/PC170105.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">This year I'm not putting any name tags on the gifts. The kids will decide who gets to open the present.... based on the outside wrapping. On each present is a separate little gift, acting as the clue as to who the present might be for. This clue is based on a gift list I either got from one of the kids or based on a recent conversation, or a hobby of theirs.... Sound hard? I don't think so. Okay, so to give you an idea.... Let's say the present is for Mike and I know he loves baseball cards, so I attach baseball cards to the ribbon and bow. Course he would know it was for him. But not all gifts are going to be so easy to read and could go to a couple people. It should be fun.... </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">We've noticed a new tradition happening this year.... Toys appearing as Christmas decorations on the tree. Where's Waldo? Merry Christmas! </span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_y_S6rsDI/AAAAAAAAGqI/lvJ0inIpjW4/s1600/PC170091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ_y_S6rsDI/AAAAAAAAGqI/lvJ0inIpjW4/s320/PC170091.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-74539387432687744702010-12-22T07:00:00.016-09:002010-12-22T07:01:52.058-09:00child labor<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Dear Sir:</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Thank you for contacting us regarding the recent accusation that we use child labor in our day care facility.</em> </span><br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2IIZH25mI/AAAAAAAAGpU/Cl9jzM6Ho98/s1600/PC160071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><em><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2IIZH25mI/AAAAAAAAGpU/Cl9jzM6Ho98/s320/PC160071.JPG" width="240" /></em></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Hunter, I told you we shouldn't have been jumping on the bed.</em></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>I can assure you that the children that are entrusted into our good hands and kind hearts receive nothing but the best treatment. </em> </span><br />
<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2IQ19mpLI/AAAAAAAAGpY/PcYcP4I6roU/s1600/PC160073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><em><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2IQ19mpLI/AAAAAAAAGpY/PcYcP4I6roU/s320/PC160073.JPG" width="320" /></em></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Hunter, that thing isn't going to get you!</em></td></tr>
</tbody></table><em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You're welcome to visit our day care facility any time you feel it's necessary to check on the welfare of these children.</span></em><br />
<em></em><br />
<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2ITTrnhJI/AAAAAAAAGpc/xSWnHY96Ke0/s1600/PC160074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><em><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2ITTrnhJI/AAAAAAAAGpc/xSWnHY96Ke0/s320/PC160074.JPG" width="240" /></em></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>You missed a spot, Hunter. Then YOU do it, Ellis!</em></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Please call before dropping by so we can ensure the house is in order. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Sincerely,</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>No Babies Were Hurt Day Care</em></span><br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2Ib3Lfn2I/AAAAAAAAGpg/8bVdyLJsJEs/s1600/PC160075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><em><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2Ib3Lfn2I/AAAAAAAAGpg/8bVdyLJsJEs/s320/PC160075.JPG" width="320" /></em></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>The clock says it's time to quit now, Hunter. </em></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em>What can I say, they WANTED to vacuum!</span>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-240968302668964172010-12-21T07:00:00.007-09:002010-12-21T09:16:42.741-09:00a glitter week<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">A note to my sister. </span></div><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hey, sis! Hope you're having a great time in PA with the kids and grandkids. We had a busy week here. </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It started with baking some of Mike's favorite cookies. The kids like to refer to them as "pa's special" cookies. And they are special. I bet you can never guess what the secret ingredient is.... </span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2MFN_daAI/AAAAAAAAGpk/z14uiAMEc8s/s1600/PC020017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2MFN_daAI/AAAAAAAAGpk/z14uiAMEc8s/s320/PC020017.JPG" width="320" /></span></em></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ellis is the more exacting of the two. She's very attentive to detail and will take her time to get the right amount of dough on the sheet. Hunter, on the other hand, believes Bigger is Better. Especially when it comes to cookies, so why not just drop it all on top of one another. </span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Last week was also a <u>huge</u> glitter week. When it comes to glitter, Hunter is the King hands down! This kid lives to sprinkle glitter! I made some "frames" out of popsicle sticks for the kids to paint and glitter. They had so much fun. Did I tell you Bucky stopped by this weekend and goes, "yea, thanks for the glitter." Ha! But I know Bucky was impressed with them. He just has to be the "tough" dad. I put a picture of Avery in one, that Hunter picked out. And another one of Josh, Shodie, Ellis, Kona, and Hunter--the one of them all on top of each other on the stairs. When Hunter saw that picture in the frame, his eyes just lit up! </span></em> </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRDuh5TwKII/AAAAAAAAGqY/qeJ5YOCiBxA/s1600/PB250032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TRDuh5TwKII/AAAAAAAAGqY/qeJ5YOCiBxA/s320/PB250032.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">How could I not share that with his dad? And, what's a little glitter anyway.... :O I just wish I had taken some pictures of them. They really were so very sparkling. </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Let's see.... it's been cold. Really cold. We still have lots of snow on the ground. Frozen to the trees. Everything is pretty right now. Maybe we'll have a White Christmas. Love you. N.</span></em></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-91667377869312885802010-12-20T07:01:00.003-09:002010-12-20T07:04:00.441-09:00blueberry boyDear mom: <br />
<br />
Today I had blueberries for lunch. They were good. Ellis didn't want her's, so I ate them. They were good too.<br />
<br />
Love, Hunter<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2G4DLgFzI/AAAAAAAAGpQ/hRd9re5CHBQ/s1600/PC160064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQ2G4DLgFzI/AAAAAAAAGpQ/hRd9re5CHBQ/s640/PC160064.JPG" width="480" /></a>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-56161578441456419612010-12-19T08:32:00.001-09:002010-12-19T13:22:41.131-09:00annual sugar cookie decorating extravaganza<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></em><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuoWeYKv6I/AAAAAAAAGoc/bnSzlPb_Tmg/s1600/PC110033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuoWeYKv6I/AAAAAAAAGoc/bnSzlPb_Tmg/s320/PC110033.JPG" width="320" /></em></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>an email to my sister</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>sent Sunday, December 12</em></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We had another successful Sugar Cookie Decorating Party. I was up and at it by 7:00, getting blueberry muffins made and the breakfast quiche warmed up. I cheated and bought cut up fruit this year... I had planned on buying one of those fruit platters that Fred Meyers carries.... it used to be $14.95.... is now $24.95.... So I bought a smaller container and then added other fruit to it. </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz1J0-VJzI/AAAAAAAAGok/w36110NqrXI/s1600/PC110038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz1J0-VJzI/AAAAAAAAGok/w36110NqrXI/s320/PC110038.JPG" width="320" /></span></em></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I never buy orange juice but on occasions because I know the girls like it, and we also had hot chocolate and coffee (with Baileys). It was a decent spread for breakfast. Then for lunch, we had mini croissants filled with chicken salad. I love putting grapes in it for an added crunch and tanginess. </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The table got set up with all my mini spoons and knives, toothpicks, paint brushes; different tools to use to spread the frosting and make designs with. And don't forget the frosting. I think I made 10 pounds of powdered sugar icing this year with only a little left over! Yes, we were zinging! </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz2I-aSmQI/AAAAAAAAGo0/LTHi6jfy2Zw/s1600/PC110042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz2I-aSmQI/AAAAAAAAGo0/LTHi6jfy2Zw/s320/PC110042.JPG" width="240" /></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Okay, so this is how the event starts out: We're crazy about details when decorating the cookies. We make the snowman look life like; the trees are sparkling with miniature lights. The snow globe looks as if it's just been shaken and the caps and mittens look like they could actually keep you warm. </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then, as the morning moves on, and we realize we still have hundreds of cookies to decorate.... we start decorating with less details. Maybe the snowman only gets eyes and a scarf around his neck. Maybe the snow globe looks like it hasn't been shaken in years.... </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then, another hour goes by. Our pile of undecorated cookies doesn't look like it's getting any smaller. We start slapping on the frosting a little faster. Instead of individual cookies, each with their own personality, they're all beginning to look like twins. </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz2CXK_6nI/AAAAAAAAGow/eKR87fx_i7U/s1600/PC110040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz2CXK_6nI/AAAAAAAAGow/eKR87fx_i7U/s320/PC110040.JPG" width="320" /></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Still, we keep at it. An hour. Two. Then three. Tracy, Michelle, Shodie, Jill, and I. Oh, and Miss Ellis who's also here at her first Annual Sugar Cookie Decorating Event. She's the creative one this year, making sugar cookie SANDWICHES with frosting between them. Oh, so good! And Avery got to join us this year and was so good sitting in her high chair, enjoying all the crumbs we gave her. Hunter was hanging out with his dad today, which was probably for the best. I had a little table set up for the two little kids to sit at and decorate/eat to their heart's content, but I have to admit, it would have been a little more intense had Hunter been there. He has so much joy in him, and he would have been so thrilled with each cookie he had decorated, that he wouldn't have been able to contain himself! Still, it would have been fun to have him there enjoying our family tradition.</span></em><br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz1QHg7aUI/AAAAAAAAGos/Pqctf7N5X5M/s1600/PC110039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQz1QHg7aUI/AAAAAAAAGos/Pqctf7N5X5M/s320/PC110039.JPG" width="320" /></span></em></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Anyway, it was good to have Ellis and Avery there with us this year. A girl's party. But I'm glad it's done for another year. It's a LOT of work, but well worth it. We have fun. </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Now we have all these cookies to eat, and share, and eat some more. It's almost a shame to eat them, because they're so pretty! But we all manage. I keep mine in the freezer so they're a little less accessible... a "little" less accessible.... </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Merry Christmas! </span></em></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-80839223007202514132010-12-18T08:25:00.003-09:002010-12-18T08:47:47.729-09:00an email to my sister<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">An email to my sister (annual sugar cookie decorating party)<br />
Sunday, December 12</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Morning. Seems like forever since I've written, but it's only been a day. I'm looking out the window at all the beautiful snow. We got about 5" yesterday, and with the Christmas lights twinkling in them is so gorgeous. </em></span><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm pooped. Still have this darn cold. Thank you Hunter. I started feeling it Wednesday or Thursday, and now today it's in my chest and I can't cough the darn stuff up. Maybe after my shower. I woke up with my nose all crusted. Fun. But it sure has thrown me for a loop. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>I had a full day planned Friday and it was all organized--doctor appt, grocery shopping, make cookies, bake quiche, make chicken salad, get everything ready for Saturday morning. What I failed to add onto the list was a 2 hour nap first thing in the morning. So from there, my day just went downhill. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>I came home from my doctor's appt and just felt shitty so thought I'd take a little nap. Well, then grocery shopping ended up being a bigger deal than usual. My brain isn't working at even half capacity and I found myself going back and forth from one end of the store to the other, picking up items I forgot. Never mind I have the list, in order that I shop. It took me longer to shop than I had anticipated and we didn't get home until 1:00. I told Mike to just put the groceries on the table and I would put them away AFTER I got my dough made and chilling. Well, several items I needed were in the bags and I ended up having to scrounge through them. I had groceries out and laying all over the place. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Okay--Batch One. Went okay. It went into the fridge. I decided to make Batch Two and Three together, so I didn't have to waste time washing my bowls and blender, etc., after Batch Two. I have a Kitchen Aid and figured it could handle the load. So in went the 2 pounds of butter and six cups of sugar. Then the first six eggs. It was then that I noticed that oil was dripping out of my beater! Thankfully.... and don't tell anyone.... but I just wiped it down and hoped that none actually dripped into the batter. Hey, I wasn't in the mood. So I continue adding the "one egg at a time" and had added two more eggs when the third slipped from my hand and fell into the bowl. Within mano-seconds it had disappeared from sight, as I frantically tried to shut the damn machine off and salvage my dough! I kept pulling the lever closest to me, which turns out is not the on/off, but the lever to lift the blades up. By the time I reached to the other side of the machine and turned it off, there wasn't an egg shell to be seen.... </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>So here's my dilemma.... Do I keep going or do I toss the batter out and start all over.....? Remember: This is 2 pounds of butter and 6 cups of sugar and 8 eggs.... That's a lot of $$$. And if I can't SEE the egg shells, what are the chances you'll be able to FEEL them as you bite into the cookie....? What would you have done? </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Okay, so I tossed it all out and started over. This time, I still did the double batch, which was mistake number one to begin with. But instead of cracking the egg into the bowl, one at a time, which is a challenge in itself with a Kitchen Aid because you only have this little bit of room.... I cracked all the eggs into a bowl and let them slide in that way. Mission accomplished! Now the butter, sugar, and eggs are blended and I've started adding flour. It became clear that I was not going to get 14 cups of flour into this bowl. I don't know what I was thinking. So I poured the batter into a larger bowl and ended up mixing it by hand. Yea, you know how easy that was in my weakened state? Not fun. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>So the dough is in the fridge, chilling. I'm putting groceries away and making quiches and doing all that other stuff. I'm so very tired. It's 5:00 by now. The dough has been chilling about 2.5 hours.... I'm looking at the clock asking myself how on earth I'm going to pull all this off with the few hours left. But I go for it. I flour the dining room table (it's granite) and start rolling. As soon as the dough hits the table, it melts on me. I scrape it off, add more flour, try again. It melts. I keep doing this, adding a little more flour to the table, to the rolling pin. To the cookie cutters. Nothing. I can't get it to roll. It just turns to mush. So I gather it together and throw it in the fridge and grab another handful. Same thing. If I'm lucky, I can get one or two cookies cut out before it melts on me. I'm sick. I'm frustrated. I'm getting mad. I've never had this kind of problem before and I've never let the dough chill for 6 hours. I keep trying, with little success. I finally get two cookie trays filled and am feeling triumphant! Then Shodie and Josh arrive....</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>She starts helping me. By now, I think the table has become 'seasoned' enough. And the dough has chilled just a little more. And she's having a little more luck than me. But then, as the dough cooks, it melts out of shape. Georgia, it just kept going from bad to worse! I've never had this happen. My snowmen looked like a snowball. My stars looked like starfish. My Christmas trees looked like they were covered in so much heavy snow that all you could see was this rounded shape. Then Shodie asks, "did you use any different ingredients this time?" And I did! I've always used Tillamook butter. This time I used not only a Fred Meyer brand but butter from Costco (Lando Lakes maybe?). Plus I've always used nothing other than Pillsbury Flour and I've converted to generic brands. Same with sugar. So is this why I had so much trouble with my cookies this year? </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Bottom line.... we eventually got done. Shodie took over rolling the cookies out and I was in charge of putting them in/taking them out of the oven. This was something I could manage at 8:00 at night! I think we finally finished around 8:15 or 8:30, but man what a ride it had been. The whole event was just disastrous from the beginning. I finished cleaning up and just went to bed. I was so sick and so weak and so tired and I hurt so badly, that I could barely stand. I think mostly my ego was hurt.... I've never struggled so much with a simple cookie recipe and then to have Shodie be able to pull it off.... </em></span><br />
<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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQummN08B1I/AAAAAAAAGoY/zY95r-UGmWE/s1600/cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQummN08B1I/AAAAAAAAGoY/zY95r-UGmWE/s1600/cookies.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was last year's batch, but I was too tired to take pics this year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Anyway, if you need to go to the bathroom or get another cup of coffee, now would be the time. Chapter One has been written. N.</em></span>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-25305401316478111192010-12-17T08:07:00.000-09:002010-12-17T08:56:04.134-09:00chillin with old man winter<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Oh, the weather outside is frightful....<br />
But the fire is so delightful... </span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQeRio5l0FI/AAAAAAAAGno/6t5kHT6-G68/s320/PC010066.JPG" width="320" /><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Well, in my mind it's wonderfully delightful. <br />
Especially on this chilly 11 degree morning. <br />
Makes you not even want to crawl out of bed. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuR4JVpMkI/AAAAAAAAGoQ/4MBN1hb6Cc0/s1600/P1310030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuR4JVpMkI/AAAAAAAAGoQ/4MBN1hb6Cc0/s320/P1310030.JPG" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But today is a glorious day, despite the cold. <br />
The ground, covered with frozen snow,<br />
with little snippets of color and past life showing through.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQeRfpdxZgI/AAAAAAAAGnk/Gti6EraaHMQ/s1600/PB300049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQeRfpdxZgI/AAAAAAAAGnk/Gti6EraaHMQ/s320/PB300049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The promise of a better today.<br />
Knowing that today is reserved for <br />
just me and my hubby.</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuR6B3jWRI/AAAAAAAAGoU/iT4SAVfsWFI/s1600/P1310032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuR6B3jWRI/AAAAAAAAGoU/iT4SAVfsWFI/s320/P1310032.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQeRio5l0FI/AAAAAAAAGno/6t5kHT6-G68/s1600/PC010066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img height="72" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQuR4JVpMkI/AAAAAAAAGoQ/4MBN1hb6Cc0/s320/P1310030.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 236px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 408px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" /><br />
A day with no chaos. No struggles. <br />
No yelling, screaming, fighting. <br />
No toys to trip over. No struggles with naptime.<br />
A free day <br />
To do errands. To read. To wrap presents.<br />
To catch our breath so we can do it all over again on Monday.<br />
<br />
Have a wonderful day! </span></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-60162342982137341422010-12-16T08:54:00.000-09:002010-12-17T08:55:41.762-09:00an email to my sister (just an ordinary day)<div><span style="font-family: Arial;">An email to my sister. <br />
<br />
Thursday, December 17. <br />
<em>Okay... Finally, I have a minute to get my email off to you. I had good intentions this morning, but it's getting hard for me to get out of bed at 6:00 a.m.... A combination of not feeling well, snuggling in my warm bed, and the cold bedroom. But my trusty alarm clock is there every 15 minutes, shaking me, making sure I don't stay in bed when he thinks I should be up.... So I eventually give in. Get up. Sit here at the table for 15 minutes or so, NOT drinking coffee because I don't feel good. Then I grab my book.... the same book I've been trying to get read for months now.... and head upstairs to ride the bike. With that done, I barely have time to come down, get my shower (if there's even time), get dressed, and be ready with a smile and love in my heart for when the first grandkids arrive.... I'm almost exhausted by this time. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>So, I decided to make a big batch of cabbage salad, like I said. I emptied the produce drawer of a whole green head of cabbage, a red head (which I ended up throwing out), a green pepper, an orange pepper, a few stalks of celery, some diced onions that were leftovers from other meals, some chopped green onions, and a bunch of parsley. Then I chopped up some dried cherries (but you can use raisins or cranraisins) and almonds. And the dressing is just the typical mayo/sugar/vinegar recipe. I'm talking a HUGE bowl. Okay, so now you don't think it went that smoothly do you???? </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>I had no sooner started chopping the cabbage..... Did I mention it was around 8:10 a.m..... about the same time I make breakfast for the kids? Yea, I don't know what I was thinking. But they could wait. I'm chopping away and the kids are running in and out of the kitchen, throwing open the fridge door. At one point I went to close it and the stack of Styrofoam containers from last night's Chinese dinner went flying to the floor. Chinese food everywhere. So I stop chopping to clean up the mess. Well, one thing led to another and next thing you know, I'm cleaning out and scrubbing the produce drawers out and wiping out the fridge. While on my hands and knees, I notice how grossly disgusting the front of the fridge grate is so I pull it off, pull out the 2" thick pile of lint, or whatever-it-is. The grate got washed down. All this, at the same time I'm supposed to be fixing breakfast and making the cabbage salad. But I'm good. I can multi-task. So I keep at it. Get the kids breakfast made. The fridge cleaned out. The salad made. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>No sooner did I get that mess cleaned up that the kids were at the table for their glitter project! Lordy lordy does Hunter have a love for glitter! This from a boy who will spend very little time doing crafts, seconds. But give him some popsicle sticks, paint, and glitter, and he's good for an hour! I sent several glitter "frames" home for the mommies last night, and glitter ornaments. Let them enjoy some of the flyaway glitter for a few days! But it makes the kids so giddy. They're so happy with their little projects, making something for their moms and dads. So, what's a little glitter on the table. On the chair. On the chair pads. On the carpet. On me. On my face. On my clothes....In the whole scheme of things, it's so minor. But I have to come up with some new craft projects for them to do. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>I've managed to do four loads of laundry today, in between salad making, fixing breakfast, serving lunch, reading, changing poopy diapers, and craft projects. An apple crisp just came out of the oven. The Juncos, Chicadees, and Siskins have been fed. Dogs have been let out, brought back in, let out, brought back in, let out, brought back in, at least that many times TIMES 2. Hunter and Ellis are napping. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>So, this is my day. Not much different from most other days. Uneventful. Boring. Lacking substance, creativity, and love. Just an ordinary day. </em></span><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Anyway, the clock is ticking before the kids will be awake and I need to do a few more things. It's only 1:30. I should be able to accomplish a few more things before the day is over. Mike will be leaving at 4:15 today for a Lions training session. They learn how to load and unload passengers on to a helicopter in preparation for tomorrow night's Flight Night. This is where locals can take a helicopter up and over the Mendenhall Valley to look at Christmas lights. It's an annual event and one of their biggest fundraisers. But it will be a long, cold night for the volunteers. So I need to get all my stuff done before he leaves tonight so I can give the kids my total, undivided attention. </span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Glad you're having a good trip. Be sure to tell the kids hello for us and a Merry Christmas. N.</span></em></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-23666510283003555742010-12-09T07:33:00.000-09:002010-12-09T07:33:43.647-09:00snowscapes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>We've had a little snow here in Juneau, maybe 6-8". Then it warms up, rains, and turns to slop. Then it freezes and the roads turn into a choppy, bumpy mess. Then the roads get grated and we end up with an ice rink for a road. Then it snows again and we start all over. <br />
<br />
My back yard:<br />
</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDEylON9I/AAAAAAAAGnM/gfr4gaURw_o/s1600/PB300038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><img border="0" height="300" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDEylON9I/AAAAAAAAGnM/gfr4gaURw_o/s400/PB300038.JPG" width="400" /></em></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><br />
<br />
My favorite Katsura tree. Beautiful no matter how you look at it:</em></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDIjmxALI/AAAAAAAAGnQ/tjR17PrKnEw/s1600/PB300039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDIjmxALI/AAAAAAAAGnQ/tjR17PrKnEw/s320/PB300039.JPG" width="240" /></em></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><br />
Some Viburnum with Kona and Sadie in the background:</em></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDNvYOiTI/AAAAAAAAGnU/f5fKUQGiUnk/s1600/PB300041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDNvYOiTI/AAAAAAAAGnU/f5fKUQGiUnk/s320/PB300041.JPG" width="240" /></em></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><br />
A Japanese Maple:</em></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDQL5z01I/AAAAAAAAGnY/7QnlLYSlfjo/s1600/PB300042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDQL5z01I/AAAAAAAAGnY/7QnlLYSlfjo/s320/PB300042.JPG" width="240" /></em></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><br />
The grandkids shoveling pathways: </em></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDXW6HRII/AAAAAAAAGnc/RTYXLF5CqUw/s1600/PB300050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDXW6HRII/AAAAAAAAGnc/RTYXLF5CqUw/s320/PB300050.JPG" width="320" /></em></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><br />
Why is it bird houses always are the perfect yard art?</em></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDaBhXihI/AAAAAAAAGng/a2585wF91oQ/s1600/PB300052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TQEDaBhXihI/AAAAAAAAGng/a2585wF91oQ/s320/PB300052.JPG" width="240" /></em></span></a></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-50222825749620279972010-11-07T16:51:00.010-09:002010-11-07T16:55:35.621-09:00peer pressure<em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I tried it.... I tried being semi-old, older, of the senior age. At least that's how I've been feeling lately. I've always highlighted my hair until the last year or so, when I let all the natural grey/silver shine on through. And boy did it shine! And I liked it. I actually loved the color.... Until I would see myself in print, then I would wonder who that OLD person was. Seriously. I could not believe <strong>I</strong> looked like my grandmother! </span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>A few weeks ago, I ran into an old friend. I said, "hi, Deb!" She returned the "hi," and then about five seconds later, goes, "OH! Nancy! I didn't recognize you!" It was a hard pill to swallow. <br />
<br />
I didn't mind being of the senior generation. I didn't mind being 58. I didn't even mind the grey. So why did it bother me so when someone I've known for 25 years, didn't recognize me.....? <br />
<br />
T</em><em>oday I got my hair colored, again.... Peer pressure.... It happens to the best of us.... But I don't feel so old, and that's an okay thing. </em></span>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-15689953602579665642010-10-26T20:27:00.000-08:002010-10-26T20:27:28.187-08:00first frost<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></div><br />
All winter we patiently wait for the first days of summer to arrive. We wait and we wonder. Will it be another rainy summer? Will it be a decent summer where we're lucky to see a few days of sunshine? Or will it be one of those rare summers where we bask in the sun all month long.... Then.... before we know it, we're doing fall cleanup and getting the yard ready for winter again. <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TMecxFJAUkI/AAAAAAAAGk0/DCTGY3R4cBw/s1600/PA220066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TMecxFJAUkI/AAAAAAAAGk0/DCTGY3R4cBw/s320/PA220066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">That's what my sweet hubby and I have been doing the last few weeks. Cutting all the plants down to the ground, exposing slugs. Putting yard art away for another season. Tidying up the yard. Admiring the good, the bad, and the ugly, making notes of what did well and what changes will need to be made the following year. Then, just as we wait for the dog days of summer, we wait for fall to arrive. That first hard frost that tells us summer is truly over. <br />
<br />
<img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TMec2xuFACI/AAAAAAAAGk4/DqaQZ2eW5GY/s320/PA220069.JPG" width="320" /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
We don't have to wait any longer. It finally arrived a few days ago, in all its glory. While the shrubs were still covered with their early morning frost, I headed outside to enjoy those last moments with the garden that I love. As I wandered along the garden paths, I could hear the garden going to sleep for another season, as leaf after leaf dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. <br />
<br />
Seasons come and seasons go, and with each new season, new challenges and new wonders. It's almost time to let my garden go for another season. Soon, it'll all be covered with a white blanket of snow and then the waiting begins all over again. <br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TMedAzV0jzI/AAAAAAAAGlA/34qvvu35VPQ/s1600/PA220075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TMedAzV0jzI/AAAAAAAAGlA/34qvvu35VPQ/s320/PA220075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-48294085893265964452010-10-11T12:23:00.000-08:002010-10-11T12:23:12.842-08:00a giveawayNo, I'm not having a giveaway.... But I know someone who is! Check out my new friend, Tammy, at <a href="http://stitchingnshipping.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-pink-ribbon-month.html">Stitching n Shipping</a>. She's having a special giveaway in honor of Pink Ribbon Month, dedicated to those who have been affected by breast cancer. The giveaways are some lovely lovely sachets. <br />
<br />
While you're there, also check out Tammy's <a href="http://shop.ebay.com/primsandpretties04/m.html?_nkw=&_armrs=1&_from=&_ipg=&_trksid=p4340">ebay site</a> as she's donating 50% of every sale to the <span style="color: #e06666;">Susan G Komen for the CURE campaign. <span style="color: black;">Just don't bid on my items :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">What an inspiration she is. <br />
<br />
<em>Nancy</em></span></span>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-9287607079925225822010-10-11T09:00:00.003-08:002010-11-06T15:11:55.956-08:00good neighbors<div align="center"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>I'm one of those lucky people who has good neighbors.<br />
You know what I mean? <br />
They're friendly.<br />
They're happy.<br />
They're always watching out for us.<br />
Always with a smile and a wave.</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TLNRJzk45NI/AAAAAAAAGjw/JPN8hNL57z8/s1600/PA100016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TLNRJzk45NI/AAAAAAAAGjw/JPN8hNL57z8/s320/PA100016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Even once inside the house, I can feel them watching.<br />
And watching.<br />
And watching....<br />
</em></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TK5lKfRR9sI/AAAAAAAAGRE/0JTc0mE3nGE/s1600/PA050001.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525465023697254082" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TK5lKfRR9sI/AAAAAAAAGRE/0JTc0mE3nGE/s320/PA050001.JPG" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Say "hi" to Casper and his friends! Scooby Dooo is there somewhere, too. <br />
They moved in a couple weeks ago....<br />
<br />
Every holiday new neighbors move in. They're not all this friendly, though.</em></span></div></div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094020161125217452.post-542116630551144982010-10-10T07:00:00.001-08:002010-10-10T07:54:30.269-08:00leaves<div align="center">There's leaves.... and then there's <em>leaves....</em><br /><br />I love all kinds of leaves....<br /><br />Big leaves.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525461335626720578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TK5hz0IvpUI/AAAAAAAAGQ8/JPO52j1U6dE/s320/P9260009.JPG" border="0" /> Small leaves.<br /><br />Fall colored leaves.<br /><br />Hanging leaves.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525860018959332834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TK_MaPSateI/AAAAAAAAGR8/Ihjfz9d_KmY/s320/PA080005.JPG" border="0" />Concrete leaves.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525461331251218866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gGoRqquM57c/TK5hzj1iybI/AAAAAAAAGQ0/ef9K9TY6e1I/s320/P9260007.JPG" border="0" />Concrete??? Yes! These were made from real leaves cast in cement. I love love love them! You can use them in the house, as yard art in the garden, or hanging on the wall. These are made locally, if you're interested. </div>The Weathered Panehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01382850584196543348noreply@blogger.com2