tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4512936055710421602024-03-13T00:19:42.493-07:00Aunt B's AdventuresAunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-29271747559651404222011-01-29T16:13:00.000-08:002011-01-29T16:16:19.849-08:00back in the saddle againHello Blog world how have you been?Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-65940709972176754012010-04-20T07:00:00.000-07:002010-04-20T07:11:59.822-07:00Katie's Beg for PrayerAlmost two week ago Jamie (our youth pastor) , Amanda (his wife) , Analy (4 month old) and Katie traveled to England. Last Thursday, Amanda, Analy and Katie were scheduled to fly back to the USA , while Jamie stayed over on business with the univesity.
<br />
<br />Due to the recent volcano eruption in Iceland, their flight back to the USA has been delayed several times. Needless to say, they are on an adventure they will remmeber for lifetime, but both are emotionally drained and ready to see family and friends. Katie ask that I ask---NO BEG my friends to pray for them.
<br />
<br /> I have several prayer request:
<br /> 1. Pray for no delays on Wednesday for Amanda and Katie.
<br /> 2. Pray for safe and trouble-free flights back to the US for both the girls and Jamie.
<br /> 3. Pray for Mathias and the families caring for him in Georgia.
<br /> 4. Pray for Jamie as he takes care of the girls and his affairs.
<br /> 5. Pray for the other countries and people affected by this natural disaster.
<br /> 6. Pray for peace of mind and comfort for the girls while they waiting.
<br /> 7. Praise the Lord for those who are reaching out and helping them
<br /> --specifically Mr. Micheal whose house they are currently staying, Lauren,
<br /> Yvonne, and Rose who are nearby and available if they should need anything.
<br /> 8. Praise the Lord that they have email and facebook to communicate with
<br /> those of us back home--I think this has helped.
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<br />We are so blessed to have a Church and friends that continually prays for one another.
<br />I love you all.
<br />
<br />It's a Beautiful Day in the Lord,
<br /> Kimberly Hines
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<br />Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-18387459832117414282009-12-30T13:35:00.000-08:002009-12-30T14:01:13.685-08:00Zoom Zoom Zune<div><div><div>The best part of Christmas break is the ability to stay in my pajamas all day long. For me that would be a t-shirt and boxers or jogging pants. I was cleaning the same bedroom I have for 3 days (I’ve spent too much time on facebook instead of cleaned). </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421147541294700226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheO64_jphUnmPKRiicD2kDCbPrLc2-be7rP4jRLE_tbrv-OFfYtl_Sx693un4ZorM_jQiC3nVPZ2uJDAvTEjwKnI7BzRU-v_vA9NyjUQCL8tbBh7tWbhWsms5RxmX6fPHHXGN0TfRwaoLC/s320/IMG_1627.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"> </div><div> </div><div>When I heard what sounded like a truck mud bogging and hitting another gear outisde. I tried to look out the window to see what was making such a commotion in my yard. But the only thing I could see was dust rising from the dry dirt lane…but no visible signs of anybody. So I poked my head out the front door to see who had driven up .When low and behold the UPS man was right there at the end of the sidewalk. It was nearly impossible to slam the door, run to the bedroom, search for a bra and return to the porch as though nothing had happened. No I had to face the not so ugly UPS man---braless.<br /><br />I tried to make small talk, all the while hoping, that he doesn’t notice my embarrassment. He reaches out and hands me the small 1 pound package. Most special deliveries are Steven’s. But today the package was mine. So of course, I, like an idiot made a big deal about getting mail. The nice UPS man asked where the package was from. I stuttered around--- Ex-pleasure---some man named Mitch Lebnick….then I kind of started to think oh my …I’ve got dirty mail. Mr. UPS says “you might better open it before Steven comes home”. I laugh and wave good bye. Quiet surprised, like a little kid on Christmas, I immediately rushed in to open the package. The first thing I noticed was a slick black box.</div><div> </div> I am really wondering what I had and if I should continue to open it in front of Charlee.<br /><br />Then I notice the symbol from a promotion sponsored by FORD—Drive One 4 UR School. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421147549001420418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2Q-cYij2fgK8lxISKHBWFTvjR1TywUM9eAb-sbBnWq3pSB3puO5Y84fWnxgznkEqRBwDAXmGCMeA5-5M6eaoqf2fxUczzZcO48F6X1LBuKlsCl_lkbr78PRnkMHgcbN6nSe2KDO5tvYj/s320/IMG_1629.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Back in November, the high school was participating in a fundraiser sponsored by FORD, if you test drove a vehicle then they would donate some money to the high school. I debated on whether or not to do it, when I said what the heck. I had one of Katie’s best friends to join in on my adventure. We choose an expedition and a really cute salesman picked us. We jumped in the car and buckled up. I asked some questions to act as though, this Chevrolet Loving Girl might be interested. I tried to make connections with the young man by inventorying who I knew and who he knew. It just so happens that his sister is engaged to my cousin’s son. He directed me to follow the signs that mapped our course. I asked if we had to follow the path or could we go on our own escapade. He chuckled and said go where you want. We made the loop around millionaire square, when I inquired if the vehicle had the potential to go from 0 to 60 in 6. Once again he chuckled and said I don’t know, see. I thought he would croak when I slammed it to the floor. He laughed and wanted us to take another loop….needless to say he hated to see us leave. When we returned to the school parking lot, Mr. Wilbur was waiting his turn. I can only imagine that he did not provide as much as excitement as Danyal and me.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421147546718232770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR38EyW7reJ0SWLuthKVaKLmq1QYoNvgKBADNQ8aOCmr6Z8-rlTpuyDy4liJaXtwylgm4HKq5JaBX4W2U-tEp-PW-sSvv-PivIFuxj3Pmk8aRP74ePFFraYLzdVLBo3JeDw7Z4S1w9BrDQ/s320/IMG_1628.JPG" border="0" /><br />Back to the real story, I pealed open the paper to read the words….<br /><br />Congratulations for your participation in the Drive One 4 UR School program, you have been selected as the winner of a Microsoft Zune portable music player. This Zune is an 8GB Black model ….holds up to 2,000 songs, 25,000 pictures or 25 hours of video. </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421147552957820354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYfIrwb0Zp328QDbd_a5qSZpz0S6pto_rUjPp7Gtf9Izwwf6i24SEMLEryYACUrM_u05NjUTiyShX0gRNjZNXMySM1luWIkIX9pLjaPFdX0YPIAWVeIYn-grC-dPi7d1NXKQ4gpmAqRNa/s320/IMG_1630.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Whoopee ….I never win anything. Pretty excited about the contents of my 1 pound box, I thought hot dog---Charlee now has her on mp3 player and she won’t mess up Katie’s. I knew the true value of my winnings due to Christmas shopping.<br /><br />Just last week we looked at an ipod for Katie. She, of course, wanted the ipod Touch. Hoping we could find a cheaper similar thing...I noticed the Zune. So I had a pretty good understanding as to what I had actually won.<br /><br />Not being able to afford the one she wanted we called around trying to find out who sold iPods the cheapest. During a conversation with Tyler he bargained with us to buy his ipod. It was a graduation gift and he wanted to upgrade to the 300 dollar one ---not sure why….but we snagged up his barely used iPod Touch for Katie.<br /><br />Steven and I made several comments about this being one of the BEST Christmases she has had. On Christmas morning she opened her gifts—a pair of boots that did not fit, pajamas, jeans, and stocking goodies. She looked a little disappointed. After breakfast we headed across the yard for Christmas with the Hines. Once again she opened some not so “out of the ordinary” gifts. When around the corner Grandpa appeared strumming a guitar. Joy filled her soul. For years she has wanted a guitar.<br /><br />Long story about the guitar –here’s the short version ---dude in the mountains is selling tools, G-pa notice guitar, inquires, man explains belonged to son, he OD-ed and died, guitar was given to him by grandmother, was her’s, special to him but since he is buying for granddaughter--sold. Tyler says it smells like weed--- great.<br />Katie is a little more invigorated by her gifts. The afternoon passes I realize I lost a gift…she goes to the trunk and finds her American Eagle bag….Ok things are looking up.<br /><br />We go to mom and dad’s for Christmas. Tyler brings out the tiny wrapped gift and says here’s one of your gifts that was left in my bags…..Katie is thrilled and Charlee can not keep her hands off of it and wonders why she can’t have her own ipod touch???? She likes to hear the Gator game song—“I gotta a feeling…. tonight’s going to be a good, good night”<br /><br />My plans are to see if Wal-mart or Sears will exchange it and upgrade for a newer iPod for Katie. Then Charlee and I would share the other one…</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-28878577066083816392009-12-18T12:35:00.001-08:002009-12-18T12:57:37.584-08:00Jarred = SAFEPraise the LORD!!!! My nephew Jarred is back at his home base and SAFE. He will have a short debriefing and will be home for Christmas in January. Words can not explain the joy that filled my soul when Kelley told me the news today. <br /><br />Without a doubt, I know it is the Lord who has protected him. <br /><br />Thank you for all the prayers for him while he serves our country. I am not sure if he will have to return again before his discharge.Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-19826022481425951252009-12-11T12:19:00.000-08:002009-12-11T12:36:01.936-08:00Thirty Nine and Holding<ol><li>In honor of the BIG 3-9 here’s is a list of the thirty nine quirkiest and unique things that you may and not know about me. One attribute I did not list was my inability to type, spell and correctly proofread. So here is my disclaimer for my lack of “good “writing skills.<br /><br /><br />2.Born the youngest of 4 to Frank and Clara Nell –2 brothers Kelley, Zane and 1 sister Angela. With barely 5 years between us, we are very close, to the point that when we moved to the big house we all still slept together or very nearby. As teenager, 2-3- or all us were in the same parking lot. At high school dances my brother Kelley always sought me out to dance. Until I was really old, I slept on a cot beside Angela. Most nights, she held my hand till I went to sleep on the other night she made spooky noises.<br /><br /><br />3.I have lived in 4 houses-the barn house, the BIG house, house I had built in Trenton and our Cracker house that is over 70 years old. The majority of my life, I have been on a family farm. I was raised on a fairly big farm. I have picked more than my share of watermelons, tobacco and vegetables than I care to reminisce about. Although the days of loading tobacco were filled with never ending excitement. The house we live in has shared occupiance with rodents that live, thrive and eventully die in my attic. I 'll be here till we build or a pecan tree falls on it.<br /><br /><br />4.Although it may not look like it I am a mild perfectionist.<br /><br /><br />5.I love to cook and bake ---not pies. Beau can testify that I will cook almost anything. I have cooked fresh water cooter, birds and rattlesnake just to name a few.<br /><br /><br />6.I collect cookbooks. <br /><br /><br />7.I am half way to retirement. Only 15 years left. After my dear friend Marsha retires, I hope to finish out my last 10 years as the librarian. <br /><br /><br />8.I despise germs and shiver at the thought of them. Hotel beds creep me out more than words can say. The mire thought that someone slept in my bed the night before makes me want to gag and has been known to cause dry heaving over the findings revealed between the sheets.<br /><br /><br />9.The older I get the more I look like my dad’s nieces.<br /><br /><br />10.Nothing is more indulging to me than clean sheets. Pure Heaven.<br /><br /><br />11.There was a time in my life that I thought I could tan my pasty white body. As a teenager, I would fry unto the point of misery in the sun while picking watermelons or laying on the deck at the lake(I also squirted lemon juice in my hair hoping to be blonder) . Nowadays the folks at the tan bedding chuckle when I say “2 minute is fine”. I cover myself in so much sunscreen I could take my lounge chair to the sun and still remain ---white.<br /><br /><br />12.You will never find me alone at the mall, grocery store, pool, riding in a car, anywhere. Being the youngest of 4 I hate to be alone. Do you think this is a little OCD?<br /><br /><br />13. Born procrastinator – no matter how hard I try I am always 10 minutes or more late. Have committed this problem to prayer…but am not diligently seeking guidance. I have however pin pointed the problem—I underestimate how long it takes to get out of the house.<br /><br /><br />14. I hate to get out bed. I find the greatest of comfort and security in the depths of my bed. The snooze sounds off way longer that I am to wiling to admit publicly. From my humble understanding this is a problem many Quincey are diagnosis with. Gosh, I when our genes interfere.<br /><br /><br />15.I collect quilts. My favorite story from ENC 1102 was Everyday Uses by Alice Walker. It is priceless.<br /><br /><br />16My best friend Kathy, graduated summa cum laude. I on the other hand graduated Thank the Laud. I have a no AA, nor have I taken an algebra or foreign Language. My useless BA is in Psychology with all the requirements for a BA in Elementary ED minus the internships. Later, I received my masters is in reading. I have tried to talk my husband into letting me start my doctorate. He says there is really no place for advancement in GCSD to warrant the degree. <br /><br /><br />17. I am a giver…if I see a need I will secretly try to do my best to help with the problem. I have been known to literally give the vest I was wearing to someone who complimented me on it. Nine out of ten times, I will move debris from the road so others want have a wreck dodging.<br /><br /><br />18.My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. I think it’s the colors’<br /><br /><br />19.For the last 23 years I have slept with the same brown teddy bear named Whubby, prior to take it was a black and white panda. He has tagged along on most of my vacations, the birth of my 2 children, and he has been on 2 mission trips. What a companion.<br /><br /><br /> 20. Scrapbooking has become my newest obsession. I just wish I was good at it.<br />I don’t like to sit on other people’s furniture (or cars)because it has cooties or maybe a fallen out hair lurking somewhere. Now hair grosses me out more that any other body discharge.<br /><br /><br />21. I suffer form hormonal headaches- I have 2 killer headaches/ migraines a month. (I have one right now)<br /><br /><br />22 I am the absolute worse for not staying in contact with people who mean the most to me.<br /><br /><br />23. I have learned to tell people I love them.<br /><br /><br />24. I cry every Sunday during the church worship services. My sweet honey has learned that I am okay. I am extremely stirred by the words in the hymns. My mind wonders a hundred miles an hour. I think about my Uncle Jack and Aunt Bernice and that she’ll find comfort. I pray for Jarred am his safety over seas. I pray for Devin and Annie. I think about how much Chris and Jean would love Christopher and Charlee. I wonder why God loves a sinner like me. I ponder why and what the composer was dealing with when they wrote the words. I just love the song service.<br /><br /><br />25. Gosh nine more to go –what was I thinking. Undoubtedly I am a mom’s girl. Even as a 39 year old, when I am sick I want her near.<br /><br /><br />26. Everyday I run off the road. It usually follows with the lecture never over correct or you’ll flip. The kids have gotten use to it.<br /><br /><br />27. I love babies and for the most part all of them love me. My sister and I had a home daycare business in which we had 11 kids under 2. It was the best times.<br /><br /><br />28. I love to entertain whether it is by a bond fire, swimming pool, or crammed in my house.<br /><br /><br />29. Pure idiots seek me out, at Wal-mart. Then I am trapped talking and counseling weirdoes. I think they sense that I have a degree in Psychology and feel the vibes that I too am an idiot and will talk to anyone. I love to make small talk with perfect strangers. Three summers ago I had a conference in DC. On the subway, I talked with old ladies, business folks and freaks. Never ride an elevator with me, I will speak to everyone riding—that is unless they have a stray hair dangling waiting to fall. Seriously, at youth camp I invited some kid back to our room for supper with our youth —he brought the silverware.<br /><br /><br />30. My brother Zane taught me how to water ski. I attempted to ski on a pair. After a few (like 2) attempts I said let’s try one. I got up and have never been able to ski on 2. The most ironic part of this story is I am deafly afraid of the water. It is understood before I jump in that, as soon as I fall, they immediately turn around to get me before the gators and grass does. As a matter of fact I keep a life jacket wrapped around my feet in the event that the boat should flip or I fly out.<br /><br /><br />31. I am a hoarder of family heirlooms—butter churns , cow brands, water pumps, eye glass cases, old boots –but most of all my girls clothes. It seems as though every outfit as a fond memory I don’t want to forget. Heck, I always leave one of my husband’s shirts behind when I take the rest to the cleaners, just so I can pick it up and smell it. <br /><br /><br />32. I hate to be a passenger in the car. I usually end up with a weasy stomach and whirling head.<br /><br /><br />33. I only drink fresh made Sweet tea, Dr Pepper, Root Beer and Mr. Pibb. if I have to I’ll sip on a very cold coke.<br /><br /><br />34. If I am sitting on the floor, I will make a small pile of trash, in which I have plucked from the carpet.<br /><br /><br />35. I watch very little TV. My favorite shows include –Little People Big World, What You Get for the Money, before the break up Jon and Kate, Friends but my most favorite--SNAPPED.<br /><br /><br />36. I have been on 3 mission trips – Washington DC, Erie PA, and New Orleans, LA. Each touched area in my heart.<br /><br /><br />37. My girls are 12 years apart. Yeah some days I wonder what was I thinking but most days I am bless to have 2 complete different and unique girls. However I don’t think Steven and I will ever be ALONE.<br /><br /><br />38. I was introduced to my honey love by a student in my class. However the love sory began way sooner. In the late eighties I was to attend ABAC, but due to a high school love decide to stay in Chiefland. If I had gone I would have meet Steven then. Many years later while attending the Wild Beast, I spotted the hottie in Wranglers, when my sister stated He dated ___ he’ll never date you. Months later I attended a Rick Coram Revival at Mount Pleasant some cutie when walking by then turned back to look—I had no idea who he was but my heart skipped a beat. A year or so later I attended another beast feast with date who engaged in a long conversation with this handsome cowboy. Along with persuasion of my aid Missy and student Brandon, I agreed to attend a church softball game. It was here that I finally meet the man I had had numerous chance encounters with. Since that day we have only been nearly inseparable. Occasionally everybody needs a little time away. <br /><br />39. Last but not least I am a sinner saved by God’s grace. My favorite Bible story is found in Luke 10:38-42. I see myself as both Mary and Martha. Sometime I am caught up in doing the preparation like Martha that I neglect spending time at hHs feet just as Mary did. Take time today to examine your life--- are you busy with the preparations of Christmas or are you spending time with the reason for the season –Jesus. </li></ol><p> </p><p>Kimberly<br /> <br /><br /> </p>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-33027523678494321522009-11-05T17:01:00.000-08:002009-11-05T17:14:25.370-08:00Come Join Us<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4d-qfn53bFQOefgHK5IoqH-HGRI1KMlLT_ubqjGFT4qVzAgi_0PGGvoBFwnPcSs5w7PCAJ1zl7p2ireIhdR9JDOdMd8BQ5oLAfymaIWmwK81CL5TeeC5W0Iy1F32FGT4feyN_mSWBQ9v/s1600-h/lots+of+pictures+598.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400791985666454258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4d-qfn53bFQOefgHK5IoqH-HGRI1KMlLT_ubqjGFT4qVzAgi_0PGGvoBFwnPcSs5w7PCAJ1zl7p2ireIhdR9JDOdMd8BQ5oLAfymaIWmwK81CL5TeeC5W0Iy1F32FGT4feyN_mSWBQ9v/s320/lots+of+pictures+598.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Friday will be Katie's last home game. At 6:45 they will recognize the seniors who play football, the band and cheerleaders. Yes, I know it is hard to believe that Katie Baby is a SENIOR. The only reason I know is because of the endless need for money and all the college junk mail on my kitchen table. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The cheerleaders are undoubtedly the best part of the game.....and no I am not partial.... just ask my mom. I am still debating with Steven about having a tailgating party at 6....hopefully I will win out. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>If you can not make it this week we play PK in G'ville next week. Maybe we'll see you before graduation. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-60899495436424567042009-09-26T16:35:00.001-07:002009-10-03T18:58:27.196-07:00No Cows Needed<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div>The NJAA National Show was undoubtedly one of the highlights of our summer for all of us. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385952691724856370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSNs9xg5Wp6bV-tAHGJ32RHa4xAWqn-2oX4Q8hfRtVoXJKqtwrkfgn5sHoQ8uBp52ZPipYMjMYAihZK0yfcyuYOJnN8RmNryQDHyZumzYZjQiWWeye56XBPe61h0PtWp4M6eWgH1PpaJY/s320/lots+of+pictures+1398.jpg" border="0" />Next year’s show is in Denver, needless to say, we are already inquiring about plane tickets and hotel accommodations. I tried desperately to get Steven to go instead of me because I am not as knowledgeable as Steven is about the cattle industry. I thought I would be a fish out of water. Little did I realize that this was more my cup of tea. If you are short on time, scroll on down to Wednesday for the most adventurous day of the week.<br /><br />I had to beg my mom to go with me. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385926558322427538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmonM1d04AQ2ZlWO27JeR6oTNnidpEYeZiFnkQoFDtgK6kgCaU6cbLRdFy95MN9Kb_ePBb7WZGbUcwjIce1ddf_CPDw6H-VhRgGqpllEkrRg-4PcQbnZx3LIVYQQDSAWB5nRBS1ZuwX2l/s320/lots+of+pictures+1323.jpg" border="0" />We left Sunday after church and headed to Perry Georgia, a 4 hour trip that took closer to 7 due to all the extra stops. I just can’t help but stop at the outlet at Lake Park. The next morning we had to be at the Georgia Fair Grounds to meet with the other Junior Angus Queens from across the country to attend a Queens Luncheon. I left my mother, Charlee, Dillon and Presley in good hands. Steven’s college friend Doug and his wife accepted us as family that week. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385954751404508322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4SS7tkAdJSah1oU3twyzNHpMwtNIYNls0tOqsRTxzM5bgSa5YRKlpYB-isSmQRsJZNAkispaps1Z2A3xvtYu7Rk7ngM4liEDhhwHPbm3ebDXWDVQ5dwPofofKrJLro0JkOnNlr2D7Ox7/s320/lots+of+pictures+1401.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The luncheon was definitely a southern affair.<br /><div><div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385926579731231506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8w0ppDYufAML3X0kbh6B76KDfktGcvk-8pw6b5PLt86GEbF7M3Bdhd5SyCj-OaIc1-axYZxznD-LrtKRJ0jMYGfzMC_Z-WpoX-vhZxtGfuPrwwu5VwnABiTK7pOP853QbBmc22Vduvw-l/s320/lots+of+pictures+1330.jpg" border="0" /> We had a Chicken Strip salad with roasted pecans and for dessert, none other than pecan pie. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385926588768086770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbZuaVokzivxTuQoxxXMiZbrLVhQRGm0lymA87BWTyIO1oAJb5bOqHCEdivi42582fmm3eYCkJv8d8tPqMKJX4Q9Uf9g7RmSYExCdzZAudFWFYFziGi1l1PrpkITR_yI9WlspnCsvl5EO/s320/lots+of+pictures+1339.jpg" border="0" />After all, we were in Georgia, the world’s pecan capital. The keynote speaker did a phenomenal job. She gave suggestion on how to be a true Southern Belle.<br />Dress appropriate the less revealing the better <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385945741684070450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnq5ArsPtc7tf1oASKqZrC4beobXrxLjP7IU5_8qXXnRqBpgR3s4T7X0qnjHUX4dnpt7fOP5beotqm1rx9gw_GLKhfuRLvEbLgLICPYqh-SLzvmi4RwKUkJy7f-nc3Y5WkiOjL7g-D8DpS/s320/lots+of+pictures+1341.jpg" border="0" /><br />Wear the essential makeup items mascara and lipstick<br />Remove makeup at night and faithfully use moisturizer<br />ALWAYS write thank you cards<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385945749385479426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrzDSAcwyyi79T8Qh6SkQfmnZx0C2ebE6UPNsUsGLWZXXH4QO3ktP9axqGssF2K5JZfZgeppeOOkmN-M6x1NP-RaUmX8_nG1xLUbXr-J5d-4qmQ3F4n-NKDUZrau0rS0jC3-JjdluyV0n/s320/lots+of+pictures+1342.jpg" border="0" /><br />I excused myself to go to the bathroom---upon entering the bathroom, I thought of my friend, Carrie. I had to go back to the dining room get my camera and take a picture of this… <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385944192194995506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjRKNC_-1BJllsKSLO3lvMb_57N-QFNqbs9F39Eh24-v20pVKJ0f8lC5O9DWubdxsuF9-05SQGL99PzlbJTCWqY0Z4mrR15C0XOru6qXGEj3AzqShJXm0B8E2YP51Mz23Wj-OYZkqSmUFy/s320/lots+of+pictures+1337.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385944726626999074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSvVhAXg-2wulgIbB0JIbSj5ZerTtlM-q5sChqnY-2gZsowjNsseOJAh562ZcolfaZWk0TiZ9tZ_7q8Q4pg9DDwf5Ox2BA0_TkYdVcEkexVOMdYA7KotS5jiFsGXdXJg6Ed4b88Lu0t-7/s320/lots+of+pictures+1338.jpg" border="0" />antique silverware for the handles on the bathroom stalls…..priceless.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385926570239937746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDhZChN675ewaQGe0nzt1iPB-M1obmTiPW-0E9K7zJEE6-w3BXx9rOAB-lopALrODP5_r5x8JC1WER8B8LjJftiVj4u6k_mtRWtY9JTEC-DEWvn3pOAG_pFg9W0hSfZFGnfPXjLVwAiJL/s320/lots+of+pictures+1328.jpg" border="0" /><br />We returned to the cow barns to find my family totally excited and ready for the next adventure. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385926564308302898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03ZJoP5jkh5dyc-QLSqMvKfVsREnkZd4js_bFte5VQIfGE7WbzZiBa1eOB4CBqZPbqZhgEILOnbBkd9kwcQdWA64Ssb0RP9iYsAnYz8767eQTJoyV-Qns_-he4d_VQPDrCo7d0DpIMpZv/s320/lots+of+pictures+1324.jpg" border="0" />Ms. Tammy had shown them the hospitality room. The Georgia Auxiliary had a kiddy corral with tons of activities, movies, treats and older kids to entertain them. For the adults, they offered tables to mingle with others. If I must say, the folks from Georgia know how to entertain. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385957012616797314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJly0PiA82f4GZU2tzbSJwp9PoQjSnypPQWBuPJfQhSE1Ma_eDNVxNudgvAHy3xWFHPI-GYk_Fhw0B8M_QnUB15T997ZPbEUXBUsQ-8ZwNGWK8obLeFMzIYcnmdQWD7tUlcaP2e564AJi/s320/lots+of+pictures+1407.jpg" border="0" />They served homemade cookies and pound cake, seven layers cookies, fresh Georgia peaches, blueberries, fresh watermelon, peanuts, chips, sweet tea, lemonade and ice cold water. Swings and rocking chairs were set up for the guest as well. The tables covered with white and green tablecloths were decorated with magnolias, peaches and lilies. Truly beautiful and to think it was a COW SHOW.<br /><br />We hurried to eat supper so they kids could have their picture taken with the other members. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385946847624220290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBEwN-vBo16xV1RIX9_KjiSz5aA3n4OZ7Pcw7WHwA0jHmycvJDfeiJgnKRKrAi7OSBqrtHJURwlhAT_JEj253HJLT6Xv2he6di7OXoERHUlzTAMOL_Rg8KZKCnkmcuZALwqYYE3Qz-2tp/s320/lots+of+pictures+1355.jpg" border="0" />Oh did I forget to mention, that most of our meals were provided free of cost. I love that Georgia hospitality. We ate Monday night with the Johnsons.<br />That night was the open ceremonies. It reminds me of the Olympics. Each team assembles together and walks in with their states flag. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385946855305628642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tEB3rJSZEReaSbCiyeY8J14N13iOdhdSYo3GYUlweIcGfko_zLSokf9502O-6nLGgK2i1iGoWNOB8Se-1oSeyDKCHjkaZ2JbTmYgbtadX23YsRyeLrH727cgROAVwvUYuaQZsQDJ-ICm/s320/lots+of+pictures+1358.jpg" border="0" />The MC announced the officers, royalties and significant contribution the club has been involved in. Katie is also the Vice President. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385949843938600514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmSr5M_GMmMjRbubYg-LEV0zy6J6UscZJHfWXpZ90-bfd0XO1xvKyGypqcuC9wbvbmesWDPG2WRl2dxIKz5LjM78Nta3ZdGSq2hV59FjGGyofrKZpXRWtdSbm3DeZ9T_TLJz6ZTMyEpvb/s320/lots+of+pictures+1369.jpg" border="0" /><br />For the entertainment, John Berry put on a concert. All the kids danced and hopped around the showing, while the adults reminisced about the songs he was singing. After the concert he signed autographs and talked with everybody. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385948122093425986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh769KK_tb7BCGaTOJ60jsnYfybHTonPTRJ_-yUSXJakL8xtiM_oWiurGAgsuDfXNxTJy0Rmnq2pGWQDn4K2TTdJXNXfSJwpS9cZiliN15S9AR_7gHckcqcKjIb_wzh4uBrzISqxnmEGh1l/s320/lots+of+pictures+1373.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The final event for the first night was ice cream sundaes provided by the Nebraska Cattlemen.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385948786625401506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Hmi9A2mFZqo3XJVLjMsLQMZNUZF97rSGgtjILMpmKU6WCovargU36E9FOtNCp6NVAP54p4f-eT1kcO5dupr5P5fhhi1AOJSfjiKhnS0pxx5rGDIuIPLhD0TwCdMinxXlFTEHyOCXYelB/s320/lots+of+pictures+1378.jpg" border="0" /> I loved their aprons…<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385949838440139266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2b5Fyfsg7itHsBZB47xDV3qTdbNfqdf5oe68tvFU9cvyGf5QVO2moS62kLY-Q4JiIGEKRghfG9HieBJd1KxcKFzxnTWLXcX-7VKYeUYEKVID4mrXqK8XZJTqBRpMMO4Ro3wdeMWWg6dru/s320/lots+of+pictures+1379.jpg" border="0" /><br />Tuesday wasn’t as adventurous but definitely as busy. We started the morning off with a pancake breakfast. This machine squirts out 4 pancakes in a row and moves along dropping more down the griddle. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385951056648564834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMpUpAKlMLl-r5H-5-IrJlubBXY2pflqcf5SR-hMmF1JaMixOoaGQOo4XPCDnbgxCon_SFyWtUfdQtcE2ytPGVm-oAyhbHTJh_9IxBpWhJnDy57vPYV90DRMcb96nuSkpczxPRO56zZJy/s320/lots+of+pictures+1381.jpg" border="0" />The chef immediately begins flipping pancakes. As hungry breakfast goers come up to the table, they are handed a plate. That’s when the fun begins. The Chief pancake flipper starts flinging pancakes at them. If it lands on the floor he quickly comments “I’ll give that one to your mother-in-law.” For the kids, he would make pancake artistry. It was a highlight of the week we’ll never forget.<br /><br />After breakfast the young cattlemen attended a seminar on grooming and caring for your animals. I wrote out flash cards for Dillon and Katie to study for the quiz bowl. Mom read a book and the girls ran around. Nothing special, that was until after lunch. This was my most favorite part of the week—the Certified Angus Beef (CAB) Cook off. I know what could possibly fun about a cook off. It wasn’t the cook off that was fun but the skits that followed. Each group of cattlemen cooked their CAB meal. Then they perform a skit promoting CAB, after the skit the judges are asked to sample the product of the cook off. Each state’s group “sets” a table. The judges’ politely chews and savors the meat while asking questions and holding conversation with the youth. Notice the moss used to decorate the table. A new idea for Cindy Jo....<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385952672889769026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTX1KjSomsQtQppfXV2adOvJ9uXJIJPC3bMMdRu9c3SFLHq5-dtA-lygGCOAydu8cScRizgO7lThcoN2NmF6LzIk09PJpjBxAMbwYfFwqQ3otpu2UgqrzEgE6lq__d56B1PfA7jJigySk/s320/lots+of+pictures+1388.jpg" border="0" />The best performance was by a brother and sister that sang “Anything you can grill, I can grill better….no you can’t ….yes, I can.” We sang the song all week long. Unsurprisingly, they won first place. That evening supper was not provide so we went to Cracker Barrel. After wards on our way back to the motel, I noticed a dude painting the parking lot. Being dedicated to my blogging and the need to seek adventure, I had to stop the car and assist the dude with his job. It wasn’t long before Katie barreled out of the car to take her turn.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385952682023735010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLvoiU2L2jwisJs8hz7vz1F7pGgdCRzy1W6FGqjHS51hvptl2rXv2KOnIs2vPa0qsE57uPfIG_3dmUzxmQ5R2ptdn_7n5HPuAwojluZG5PvWxSW1eTJ5ndau9cQRAKQtKgoeurbU3-gp4/s320/lots+of+pictures+1394.jpg" border="0" /> Although the rest of the car wanted to, they remained in the car dying laughing.<br /><br />Wednesday, the cow shows began. Unfortunately, we left our animals at home. For once we had time to enjoy the show from the other side of the fence. Katie and Dillon along with the Johnson crew had to get up early to serve breakfast to their fellow cattlemen. Mom, Presley, Charlee, Maddelyn and myself sleep in and later explored Hobby Lobby. We watched some of the team sales events to cheer on the Turnpike Creek kids. Lunch was the most delicious ribs…yes I gnawed the mess out of those things. I usually do not eat messy food in public nor do I chew on bones. We headed back to our favorite spot—the hospitality room. We gathered around the table and did some last minute cramming for the quiz bowl that Dillon and Katie were to participate in. Dillon was on a mixed team with kids from Kansas, South Dakota, and Virginia. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385958665050277762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2BB_QOIq8BU8DcRqj_90pA400foAN1dlWw3ZkszZEjQYi2gjcOmrH-eoHpCclqeJ2YuJugr6yY2mVN4o4n6la-ngeN91ngAohZwUsyy1V-Cgo9bx5NQDllPjrHqRiFsQKvb1NWi1orZl/s320/lots+of+pictures+1430.jpg" border="0" />His team made it to the Elite Eight. </div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385954741319297314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDHt3h0GjRh3Dcvnc2AsBxIaQzjPUNa7JJqh4q-DtmtbTH6D_AkemjxucpBfAwyy4vuZ3MSCb80Dulo2ndb6lAO2uNf9DbgWzNoBwUFiWcKT3JmVpiTHLJBt3nOCZhr_hPav3-fREBiKNS/s320/lots+of+pictures+1400.jpg" border="0" />One of Katie’s fellow team mates decided at the last minute she didn’t want to do it so, Katie completed the quiz for experience.<br /><br />We had supper on our own at Cheddar’s. We were totally impressed and filled to capacity after the appetizer. After dinner, we took the kids back to the hotel to swim while Katie and I went looking for an outfit. Katie realized after she observed the other queen’s that she need to dress more formal than boots, jeans and sparkly shirt. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385961226180265938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc57YklPE460YZpG4KVeG6YX43Rm2x17xA9yi4k-fe9QZLjZD3aF0EQJoYlRidEGuCu5vzXgKRuGoxa7peDvV6eHAbSmC4FGywVLXHM7eq90MCf_0ngG82A0LbKQvfOIz8RQdaVn02R9Sc/s320/lots+of+pictures+1438.jpg" border="0" />In other words, we needed to buy some fancy clothes for her to work in the arena passing out ribbons and awards. We ransacked the racks at Kohl’s (I never find anything at that store) with only 15 minutes before the mall closed we hurried through Belk’s. I found a few things but nothing that overly impressed Katie. We decided we should try Target as our last result. Due to all of our hurry, we had not stopped all evening to go to the bathroom. With a little extra time to spare, I thought we could stop. This was my first mistake of the evening. I walked in the bathroom to find some women sprawled over the toilet hanging on for dear life. Let me set the stage-- This lady’s hair is draped over the sides of the toilet, her face can’t be seen, beside her is her purse, shoes flung around the stall, her backside is hanging out, several cups encircled her and she is almost non responsive. Now that I think about it, it may have been the echo of the commode that made her hard to understand.<br /><br />Being a Good Samaritan, I asked if she was okay. To no avail, she gurgled sometime that only demons can translate. Let me give you a little insight – I do not take care of my own children when they are sick, bleeding or throwing up. I realized I need additional help because Katie had abandoned me. I step outside to see if I could alert management of the lady’s condition. I did not want my fingerprints on nothing if this was a crime scene. The young inexperienced boy in the red shirt was no help. He sent the manager in, not really, he called me outside because he couldn’t come in the bathroom with me. He said they had called her husband to come get her 30 -40 minutes earlier. I wonder how long the woman had laid there with her head bobbing up and down in the toilet. I returned to the bathroom to check on my new friend. Once again, I noticed Katie had left me alone with the woman. I went outside, snapped my finger and motioned to her to come here, when this gentleman starts heading my way. I already had enough trouble without some man thinking I was making moves on him in the Target foyer.<br />Quickly I said “I am trying to get my daughter’s attention” and he replied “I thought you worked here”.<br />Note…. I was wearing a blue Hines Cattle Co Shirt and khaki shorts….that would be a negative.<br />He then added “someone called me, my wife is sick.”<br />“Oh” I responded, “I know right where she is”.<br />He followed me in the bathroom. Soon the stall was over following with spectators. The husband was straddling his wife and the toilet, when he realized he could get back out. The manager tries to disassemble the doors to the stall, which requires special tools. He’s fumbling around stepping over the woman. I am offering advice and suggestions as to why she was sick. The husband, well, he is clueless. He commented he had never seen his wife throw up and he didn’t know what to do. When he up and decides that the toilet needs to be flushed. Remember if you will that the woman is non responsive. I have yet to see her face nor has she moved from the tight embrace she has held on the toilet. When the husband says in the sweetest voice “Honey, we…we… need to flush this…then bam with giving her time to move or pick her head up from the deep valley….he flushes. If you know what I know about toilets---- stuff splashes…that is all I am going to say. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, this woman must have been near heaven’s gates to have not jump up and kill her husband right there. Then the manger finally loosens the stall door providing ample room for all. After about 30 minutes, the unmerciful daughter walks in and demands that mom GET UP. Mom still does move only moans and gurgles. Once again I offer the suggestion of call the EMTs to come a least give her an IV. Then the non news watching man says “we don’t have insurance”. OH…..that explains it all. I quickly made my exit to allow the family time to plan what to do. I commented Obama was trying to help and left. Through all the commotion Katie had once again left my side for the hunt to find queenly attire. She finds a black dress on sale for 15 dollars S-O-L-D. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385954757604318322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxNX8Jy6_rd2TVI5kdIR9dvUHvgf901lXCeXNARxgk6JSAzYyiQrDzTOB78LcGsVN-n-YY3SAM8oreL1ullnKP8-8Cg3e24DpQjOA9Cj7eujjutZigaNbshDMYWSicdWvr6SCR9D_8sf1/s320/lots+of+pictures+1402.jpg" border="0" />WE scrounge around for some bling. I return to the bathroom to find the manger re-hanging the stall door. The woman, her loving husband and over compassionate daughter had left the building. The manager granted them 10 minutes or he was calling 911. They gathered up the woman and left. After I thought about it I wondered if the woman had a heartache or stroke. I’ll never know. But one thing I do know is I can’t believe I didn’t take pictures for the purpose of the blog.<br /><br />We made it back to the hotel with our bags full of loot. We finished our meal from Cheddars and headed to bed. I had had way to much adventure for one day.<br /><br />Thursday was yet another day of excitement. Dillon made it to the Elite Eight on the Quiz bowl. Once again we began cramming for the test. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385958654501800834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lu6IQZltiQ4VQkBJdPMN1ei5JTowSNyJU5IGGZzZj60KrtNNpVEXvvCt-iocNnjr3kUoocIXVrNMCNNh66ak7NN4eIE1O3l94vluCAJcJ-kpWLvGLQ1MEPIEz9yNixbrEaaZqnLOwU5W/s320/lots+of+pictures+1425.jpg" border="0" /> I can no longer say that I do not know about the cattle industry. I learned about the reproductive systems and difficulties with ….with …. you know bull problems. Apparently bulls need Viagra too. We know all the prominent members and officers, the background behind the Angus foundation, feeding and watering intakes, you name it, we learned about it. Dillon’s team went up against the team from Kansas which won first place plus on of the members is the son of Gardiner Angus, BIG producers. </div><br /><div>Mom insisted that we eat at the Yoder's. It was okay....don't waste your unless your all about "enviroment"</div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385958672641181234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKnQoseeMRiLsIUCiwrx8ih9W4a3Jc1KGx-Y_azORhV_FkrRVMnxhaSqeJA-jmewzDZ5w-EgbyHCguSREenDPKGhfFkEo1fxTn2PqX-Hh0drgxbr0DaJvQutEr2i63TUVYZh6rYLT5BpW/s320/lots+of+pictures+1413.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385957018144561154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZrU4I0s6qkB0zZSI8i1WPCoXt7fKP9vSUbzsEwfUAmULaZuN0CXQZShdP1vfHhZcppXL7XAeYw1cY1CrZVmccVtGIL0KhiWzo0e0yhNj90wulea54RUFfO0R_nk9U1Dd-wPsA3Coxkfo/s320/lots+of+pictures+1417.jpg" border="0" />It was a great experience for all of us. Friday we hung out then left to come home after lunch. We are already booking our trip out west for next year's show...get your plane ticket and join us. No cows needed..</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-81886351458911714712009-09-22T07:10:00.000-07:002009-09-22T07:55:02.623-07:00Peas Please.....IF the week before last wasn’t bad enough, I had to endure yet another week of ….I am not really sure what you would call it. At school, we along with the other 67 plus school districts, kindergarten through 12 grade, started FAIR testing. If you don’t know what that stands for let me explain ….sheer chaos, butt chewings, hate email mixed with electronic progress monitoring that throws you off the Internet each time you log on. This however, happens to be mandated by the state!!! I am beginning to wondering why I choose to leave the class room to assume the position of Reading Coach. Needless to say the last few days at work have been anything less that invigorating.<br /><br />Last Thursday night, I came home completely exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally, due to “the sister’s” soon arrival. My feet felt as though elephants had trampled on them. I have no one to blame for my feet except me. I like a total idiot wore heels, you know, the uncomfortable kind to run the FAIR Marathon in. The six teachers that tested that day were literally located at the three furthermost points on the campus. I had to run back and forth to assist teachers and combat Internet demons that only Jesus could call out. After school, I had stopped by the store to pick up a few needed items to make tacos.<br />Any way, by the time I had arrived home I could barely trot as my mother would say. I went to the wash machine to rewash the clothes that had already been rewashed 2 other times, when I noticed a peculiar stench. Not the normal aroma of our cow pen after a heavy rain, more ….well…. a sickening, a foul smell. I took a quick look around my laundry porch, when I noticed the unbelievable. There dripping from my freezer’s door was my Blue Bell’s Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream, mixed with blood from all sorts of meats and stank ice from the freezer. I can’t believe as a kid, I loved to scrap it from the top of my Grandma and Grandpa Q’s freezer and make icy drinks. We were too poor to get them from the Jiffy so we thought that was the BEST. My first thought was “Oh no, surely the rest of my peas aren’t gone!!!!! IF you don’t know what I am talking about, check out my last post. We had close to a 100 bags of peas stolen. I could have laid down in my puddle of yuck and cried. But, I did what any southern girl would do I called mom, not mine she lives too far away. I called my sweet blessed, precious, priceless, irreplaceable, loyal, fantastic, kindhearted, dear sweet mother-in-law. She immediately walked the 50 steps over to my house and began helping me rescue my remaining peas, Steven’s deer meat and a couple of packages of corn from 2006. I called the best brother-in law, I never had and his quick thinking, wonderful wife to come and help us eat the Feast of the Defrosted Freezer. I use the words never had, because my honey is an only child, Kelley P. is the closest thing to a sibling he knows. He loves and treats her like a little sister.<br /><br />Our adventure began. We worked and chiseled.<br /><div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384298097468630434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzZBd3x167RofIBOK33YeS3_UuLZiXrO8tyWpxSM2hHx8ZSexz7GaeIxa92flTRMz8YXCLIwZIkRzU3LVXKXwqkqyxSDECY31hv36vNm1oVlLinjLUo8_5JHAa0kLRUL8ZXbqmZamasMj/s320/freezer+003.jpg" border="0" />We used the blow dryer.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384298102205964546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkVfBySXREwomgwXn1EtYGcZqunwPBUM_7anOc1ODFHqaAkcR97_Zv47n-Conqr6XJbhjsm_eKear22STGaG9PUVAmkcLJYpwJflBbm3W2hc9GvVXwpGK1O-jOl2WyhTKiEbsM3-D6cv0/s320/freezer+005.jpg" border="0" /> We banged and busted. We gouged and poked. My mother –in law and I looked like gold miners digging for treasure in the Alaskan snow. As matter of fact, she even called me a “gold digger”. It embarrassed her so, she couldn’t stop apologizing. I just laughed. I knew what she meant. <div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384299692229847266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhEy2YKM8bXBYavfLNAtASG5Y0yCPlYvaCixXftfaCteFpLQfbdy1_o7fiUr6DHrbuEWWy7hyfgKI32uwxpB7QijDvGJNsX6xVNl2sZcoF5ObJKqPjZkDSYuL_IfWtNTAC2K3RAzmrSHt/s320/freezer+004.jpg" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div>We called Pete, a man who use to work on the farm to come get the remaining thawed meat. He was thrilled to death to leave our house with 3 coolers of choice beef, buffalo burger meat, venison, smoked turkey and a whole bunch of other stuff. I believe that the Lord will provide you with opportunities to bless others even when you feel as though you do not have an offering. </div><div> </div><div>Before long we had the freezer empty and it was time to cook all the un-selected thawed remnants from the freezer. We grilled Omaha steaks, pork chops, and turkey breast. I made hash brown casserole. I made a big pot of peas and delicious cream corn.<br />While we labored on the freezer and prepared the meal, Katie, Dillon and the men worked with the show heifers. <div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384298087147207042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidgqlyhwD3V6rOqo1rk8bg1yWcaV3U_4IwYnrEOdYEkUahufeLNLOEEO2Rxn8lb1CG09zBuz2q5xpN1779BLdEjyURWiDMdzYXR8SVeEomoLlx8OJ1Mpaut_-EcOd6QDZ2suNM-VR5lmt6/s320/freezer+002.jpg" border="0" /> I think this year we are hauling the most we have ever carried to shows. Katie has 6 heifers she is breaking, 2 bulls and 1 Braham, not to forget the ones from last year….I do not know how the child does all that she does. But that’s a whole other post. <div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384298078687264978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIywLu94TRcK2U_7dsqTL_EbwjQT9zm2Tkr6JreEZ5brrTJvJASOyTBHtJnRlJ5xhrdI3NycxL9orpm_5LxU5V6DjCmeSw8lXqpsvBUEF5r1YHk5w2P6Iz0GmW9CEv0mvgq3kC8gqvG2Au/s320/freezer+001.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />At supper, our table looked as though it was set for a King. That was until the peasant smelling (and looking) partakers sat down. We enjoyed the feast of the defrosted freezer. Everybody had a plenty. It’s amazing how my meal went from simple tacos to a full blown dinner on the grounds.<br /><br />After dinner Kelley, so sweetly she immediately started cleaning the kitchen and the younger men head off to tackle the remaining mess on the laundry porch. <div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384299685274852002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBWaKH5q2BEUa8CPtmSC3XMUcBx7l-_nguszdlbb_ojYT2-DAM5ASIcVWB6gE60sK7mSypo4Kl6MF2k1hI3JU73mLkfwJEcTLh5gOXysc0vBXzYIjQ9pHrZMd2HqTJU9zynyWMt4mHVklV/s320/freezer+008.jpg" border="0" />They scrubbed and bleached everything.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384298112968396258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRl8iUnVMAbSTZbdA1RYKci24AblbFUCFYcyUKOVlCom47wHrKnWXaj9SQA5nSzNul7EqeC0CdHaoVbIPI8VqW_isCIrfmyepFoECQpcyfF9q8Vv66nnGou32KVUwy2tkTME3BAjQRn-Z/s320/freezer+006.jpg" border="0" /> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">Notice Steven's mud boots </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div>The girls and I headed to bed. It seemed just as my eyes would close, my honey would give a holler, I would jump out of bed wondering what the commotion was only to find him seeking my approval—I know your husbands never do that. Finally they had conquered the beast. They placed my precious remaining packages of peas, corn and venison back in the freezer. Steven and Tom must have prayed over the freezer, to date my freezer continues to freeze and no one else has snagged anymore of my peas. </div><div> </div><div> </div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-42633729194258125712009-09-05T10:36:00.000-07:002009-09-05T11:21:09.601-07:00Victims of the Hard Economy<div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This past summer, my husband labored intensely the week we were at youth camp to pack our freezer with peas from the garden. He picked, shelled, cooked and then sealed the delicious peas in Ziplocs. Needless say our freezer was packed to the brim. We had well over 120 bags. I had also put up close to 30 bags myself earlier in the summer.<br /><br />This past week, we had a beef butchered because of the unfortunate death of a cow in the cow pens. My mother-in-law went to the market to pick the meat up and then headed home. When she arrived home, she immediately went to the chest freezer to put the meat away. When she noticed the unthinkable more like unforgivable…… Most of our peas were GONE ….Yes, I said GONE. Someone had stolen all but about 30 bags of our peas. Thank the Lord, my cream corn is still at mom and dad.:~) Being quite alarmed and puzzled, Steven calls me at school to question the missing peas…as though I had, in 2 months, cooked 100 bags of peas. I know we have a lot of dinner on the grounds at church but definitely not that many. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We have yet to solve our mystery, but I am praying not that the person that stole <em><strong>my</strong></em> peas not choke on them, but that they may survive these hard economic times. If any of you know anything about me (and my dad), you know that we would give the shirt off our back to anybody that has a need. I am not an economist, but I undoubtedly know that money, jobs and security are and going to be a thing of the past. I have told myself over and over, that the day would come when we would be burglarized….only I thought it would be our home not our freezer and they would take something of great value, not steal the efforts of my (our) hard labor and food.<br /><br />I have already informed my dad to plant a few extra rows of fall peas for me. This is just another “good excuse” to spend time at mom and dad’s. As with any canning season, I am sure an adventure awaits….and hopefully no more PEA Thieves will invade our freezers. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-68007216070826110112009-08-22T17:21:00.001-07:002009-08-22T18:49:42.527-07:00Summary of SummerI am not exactly sure where I need to start. I am so far behind with my post that I have a million stories to tell and little time to write. As most of you know, I am never on time, but recently I have been convicted about my lack of time consciousness. With that being said, I am going to do picture post to tell about my fast and furious end of school and wild summer. I debated on whether or not to publicize my crazy side, but most of you have seen crazier. I ask, that no one make comments recollecting those times. Here’s a quickly from May to Mid July minus 2 or 3 really good stories that I will give special attention later. It seems that every second of our summer vacation has had some sort of adventure. I hope you enjoy the summary of my summer….<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372967347940629074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnn8zfxRWYr1uth6MQxPMN6g_k_YLYOYpHfMGkty3BqEU4xrTYaSTlm9Wvjbt_fUQN0Ny_KSOJX8YjDy5hdrIB-HVl0QiSu87Oyu19sOSMDWwm4FZL2HQOgT_ql52TzBfdSlRltTcyh_Rh/s320/lots+of+pictures+1256.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Katie will soon inherit my car. She complains often; excuse me…. she complains daily about the car. She wants a truck. I have tried to explain that not many seniors can drive a car such as ours that not only hits 80 in seconds but also rips the hide off un-expecting rattle snakes. </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372965023659254306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPMOCoCXM48Fjq2qI-FcIjakIy3zlM1IIG2kFLKqr_X3iXaBVF7EX5SexHEmnptDFNayo9l-5-0RqfyXuRSbfLJYY61l_d0aCkxWuMulgc64xOwWlo8v3cvSOPdvPvmM1uRJcSwljaBNt7/s320/lots+of+pictures+647.jpg" border="0" />Unfortunately, much of our late spring and summer has involved slaying snakes. This particular snake lost his life on the side of the highway due to the inability to get off the road fast enough. The first victim of the year was at Ashley’s during a girl’s night out, I noticed the pregnant momma kitty throwing something in the air and then flinging it. I, being too curious for my own good, went outside to see what she was doing. Our youth minster wife, who has a doctorate degree in wildlife, varied that it was a corral snake after reviewing a book on native snakes. We had trouble reciting the cute little snake rhyme “red on yellow kill a fellow, red on black friend of Jack”. Ashley being brave and noble beheaded the snake with a small…very small machete. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372966555846506530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgy2EWlLSbIYFHJZD7-f7CkVGuMhc7TS_MlHU-NFjcXu112XQCx4f69MUhMMpGCaXrQEDmg0PV4dzclxtXPD7AwnNnFrnt6lgC8SSsKKxAL6HYCr8Pi93DaiI915ohUtmw6o1rCq1x1N4/s320/lots+of+pictures+062.jpg" border="0" />Beside the rattle snake and corral snake, the other night on the way to church, I slammed on breaks, throw the car in reverse then frankly jammed in the car back in drive and continued with such spastic moves until a poor little corn snake lay dead on the nature trial that leads to my house. Katie’s lifetime friend Danyal, thought I had lost my mind as she was thrown about in the backseat until she saw the evidence of my madness—a dead 12 inch snake. Have I mentioned I HATE snakes?<br /><br />Towards the end of the school year, my dear friend and librarian Marsha hosted a book fair. The not so intelligent me, thought it would be cute to dress up as Clifford to encourage students to visit the book fair on Family night. Remember if you will, our springs are unbearable hot, but even more so inside a BIG RED DOG costume. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372949112481855314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RSWFl4PGSfwDtlVFMbb9HHiz28_guBdolwe6eMFz8nazOCmx86sqq-SlAJmDmObm_L1iyeh8ThcsYWb2OjrB5jHfpUTEoghz34Qy_R2ftIhnnBSmWEESSoAXUKSpaN46sIoZ-br_xVpU/s320/April+to+July+002.jpg" border="0" />I commented that if I should ever, feel the desire to dress up again …I was wearing my bathing suit underneath it. That was until I thought about all the cootie that resides inside….yew yuck. One little boy told his mother that he knew that was a man in the Clifford costume because he had hairy arms. If you haven’t seen arms, let me elaborate…. I barely have peach fuzz on my arms. In the past, I have been known to ride a midsize child’s bike into 40 classrooms hooping and hollering to encourage our kids to attend an event at school. Other than the severe soreness in my legs for days, the bike ride was the easiest and least exhausting. Can you believe that some people had the nerve to ask me if, in near 90 degree temperatures if I would stand in the drop off area and wave to the families. I think, I send this individual a Christmas Card. I’m making a note to cross them off the list.<br /><br />We’ve celebrated Mother’s Day with muffins for moms. Then our family had a late lunch at our favorite buffet restaurant. The big adventure of the day was driving by the river to see how high it had risen. It was just another day in paradise. lol <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372949135160186578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8xvldBtxnPIQrlKnXRJl1gU9wXVcy8X44XLQ3-4ALrpQGz-AmLuPA6JWTWf9NyM0xROTJoskxOPNcUjveRYIQbCO4Fp3aPQqiRIKlHb2va-fPnqgE6YEefgHZDda0xcaCR_f8T-fh-h4/s320/April+to+July+011.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Our youth host a spaghetti supper and Mount Pleasant Idol to raise money for youth camp. Steven was asked to serve as Randy. I personally think he is more like Simon. </p><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372949121688980402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMY4sf84A4FZAiHkclm-d357iK1721RuInFaiohYrJcuBg27mPX0YB4WWbLvu4vtTb6TUrM9hdVaEv57GMnkXG3dauMYAxMnkXJpeLiYroEMM21FGTB2Jfh2lw84DkBX4dj6-7O90ZeZZy/s320/April+to+July+006.jpg" border="0" />We had all sorts of talent--- pig calling, cat imitations, and lots singing. The church had the great opportunity to hear my nephew Quin and Maddielyn sing a duet. After the performance, Jamie, the youth minister and MC for the night asked Quin who was his favorite singer and song. With out hesitation he said “Toby Keith, Beer for My Horses and Whiskey for My Men”. The crowd went wild. Did I tell y’all I ate Toby Keith restaurant in Oklahoma City, excellent place to eat and even awesomer atmosphere. I had lamb fries. They weren’t bad.<br /><br />Katie had cheerleading try outs. At the time, she thought this was great…now …. not so much. Their coach was a college cheerleader and performed competitive so needless to say they train like “athletes”. No comment at this time---- <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372950400265928338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-5fBFTNneKtFypKdYA_XvAEsBPDdDOwTu5oPvvdgR203nlTWXEfN3GfhaHNMtRZkXVh29lLARxkJ6Q0ARfrelVxOVMBq6aCc53DoitnzAKrMKcspwTzn-J2Q8a0fKdZ3ONskLiST0_OR/s320/April+to+July+037.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The FFA won the Plates for Plates contest. The club sold the most FFA license plates. This entitled the club to have Commissioner of Agriculture Charles Bronson teach Ag for a day.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372949145116421250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AWooQbRI61ZuctYBg_bhR_HAXCufTzasMmq6Dvqk1mFVzkwyryurdh4F7ayUsen1MlDYFkkAcYj7dSDMX1oNoYo1o20Jwq7ABa43hEXfGwviRUDEIyhewVMsH2k1FsZ99fh4AT5x08Ic/s320/April+to+July+016.jpg" border="0" /> At lunch, his personal chef cooked a meal for the members. The food was incredibly different from anything most of our rural rooted kids have ever seen, much less tasted.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372949151505977922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TMwheWEqyhFLWBTt5-lL2p3Iv13bb86mK7zZpR5wuUJg67h6sqw0RM7CfxiW5D7aNuFgftIYL-s98R7GrsZdMliIh793VBXzFd4-hUW874nvHU3tlbndMWVqvvobNZUAWQIogQ7gASSf/s320/April+to+July+018.jpg" border="0" /> I personally along with my table mate Carrie thought it was excitingly different. The chef has a blog, but I have not been successful in finding the site.<br /><br /><br />We attended the Ranch Rodeo in which my crazy brother-in-law served as the entertainment for the evening as the Rodeo Clown. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372952340716885602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpzhTUQNc17wSGfPxuPHV0PxvjG7q29TiVfc0jtIRgMY71aGvxvv8RESTr4XxO9elUM0QD-MX8b1dFor7sKixPEZXXbPZu9cItpy91jlOHz4rN527MX0-9MpVP4HPwxKwFui3SNqd390j/s320/April+to+July+027.jpg" border="0" />Although the weather was awful, we had a great time. If you have not attended the event in the past, I encourage you to go this year. It is always held Memorial Day weekend at the Horsemen’s’ Arena in Williston . It is unlike any thing you have ever seen. The best part to me is the buddy pick up. Nah, my favorite is the wild cow milking. Um I changed my mind it is the wild bronco saddling. Okay, I really think my favorite is the event in which they unlaod the horse then quickly saddle him, race to the other end, come back unsaddle the horse and load him on the trailer again. Yeah that's my favorite.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372950384683047602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLonYNxtjV88ov5fOlyIk79oppcxvDtJT_jcLAzzNp8dUlGlcATnDItid-8ryQSer-GAfQ8FYkji2K6HuKoPf_6BiZLIe_qcy9p6Px51rqsYZ90Y4tGGyd1eMtfKizTygA8m0w7O6FsBR/s320/April+to+July+029.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We ended school with a BIG bang and celebration. The kids enjoyed every minute of the day not to mention Charlee crashed the party. <br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372950376852797618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHa0fI17R1F1Gzs9CgxMFgjW1aaV31PFQvOX1WEx_ExBMktJRUpv_GSkWEPOSpO6GRQCBhHmqNr7pWwjgcgppk47H1hXGMvoZuPF4rUVTKY51FSsxso57qxkf5hivHaRV06zX123j_pkv7/s320/April+to+July+024.jpg" border="0" /> I wonder where the summer went. It seems like just yesterday, that we bid farewell to the students and celebrated the last day of school. A tradition at our school, the teachers create a line and sing……Nah Nah, Nah Hey, hey good bye. Embarrassingly enough, I was get choked up and can’t sing. I usually blame the tears on the sun or allergies.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372950409931664226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73DEstcCZQPBw9UHuk-W_xA_1zfwJgl13Bohkfjkp8jzNj-vg1hVCSIFUYqr6CptQVyfjL35pCZ2seaH-RHIHruznl4AsPI1kbwAjl2N6-VAPSe-ODZ85UVxXf0XDkfEh6di14FST8DuX/s320/April+to+July+048.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />After 3 years at Kid’s World, we closed that special chapter in Charlee’s life. They have tenderly cared for and loved my baby as their own. </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372952345986042434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkcePpRkQ_bzHB4e_7u-ducM-nCmLTTcY6VfbrmBMv1i0olKKCjcye1LAla_bmXiHqyniA5KkEUOYhKFsukIs_do3N8S5hJcTcrxFf0WaC_vDX0O-2_mQYgWHkG-qUWsSSObRlh8UH2N3/s320/April+to+July+050.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Summer started off with a bang, the first week out Katie headed to the FFA convention in which she won the Beef Proficiency. We recently found out that she did not place nationally but received a Silver medal honor …I thought we entered a FFA contest not an Olympic. My lovely husband went with mom and me to the convention even though he complained about my driving he didn’t show his butt…… </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372952354985545250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6aEg7WeU7h-pXBkpLwYL-6tZAFIWcp12tmgojg8ZpfdcZXAp7-X3A3wouczfa8R5YS0qPZW5lIwuJAPuMebwPnCwq20fGpLCahWKdtvb0Rt5CurRBuKS57oMMGDGscOSCFTeSv1wZvlp/s320/April+to+July+053.jpg" border="0" /><br />Well maybe he did a little. We had trouble with the seats in mom’s vehicle. I think before it was over, we all had to ask for forgiveness for using language only sailors use.<br /><br />As I had mentioned in an earlier post, for the first time in years, and I do mean years, I attended youth camp. I had a blast. However next year, I want to chaperone the boys. Every night they stayed in our room and entertained us. Ashley served as head “cook” and I assisted and cooked breakfast. We meet the group Unhindered. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372952366085994770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUbMBQzZPlgBsbChbq_dCivFBDYShplKtL-VfQlJawqDVbBssOByMSTMEm_syzq5ZyGjCW3pWGCdytao1O31hP-AQBZ3FJ1DoNRcgWG6nVf09vkQoa6pcX3vl84FkjjONpKWmPq7vXz5q/s320/April+to+July+063.jpg" border="0" />They were precious. I invited them back to eat with our youth group, but they had previous an engagement (yeah right). <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372952368438086242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AgfGUVJvZ8MLuvQaezELpNfpNJSKq8-5pc3idIifq-KCgcBGg7mm5dii13WWBaWD0gbRqpoQnWm2t149jDmyFILxlrQlE6sOsRBbe99d0Vzr8fwKnmA3f8Fq7Gidgnoliax07Qc5FrEb/s320/April+to+July+061.jpg" border="0" />I had a personally hair dress and enjoyed shopping with the girls and Tyler. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372954167342895026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkZp-u2_BQ-g-ixhG_l5nFVCSP83xevlZRwNLfLuNaqAn9BUhXUKxOpVqTAb29Hhv4LKAVPiEV5ZnTQ4BK4csS-3lpREkUG4bE9rQtRE4lnrZNbsfj7UoTiAtYAzOO6Jx3Rk59JHKe6Hf/s320/April+to+July+058.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Every chance I got, I spent some time at mom and dad’s. It is undoubtedly my most favorite place on earth. I also had the opportunity to cream field corn and sweet corn. </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372954180948170690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEnyvGj4FQ_DN_VFhSglZvOahWyOqsrFIgwxcTwaEB7cBbKbVt5ygNbrEgRIYERLeUN4fLEHhS3s85jJ0G3aR4Z7udw38whhVyUjh39YXrKn05AUcLOEfX7-uxabbVV9-7igYswBCelTm/s320/April+to+July+068.jpg" border="0" />Maybe soon I’ll update the recipe blog and include some of my summer recipes as well as my recipe for canning the most scrumptious corn. We had tons juicy watermelons, yummy eggplants, lots of pots of peas and loads of pods of okra. I love summer vegetables. </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372966561274078066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Zr0JuUxgLmcBnVSV-hria3h1vsqcOMcR36JVdOBHJzr6LsO1pLawZ3Nr1Vp76WS1iMwNtS7SK7yY03zFRLETLDI_s5ZZFsV7U3wzBATrbDyhMYltYJTwFgazDhyGTQHazgTqamvhMdv6/s320/lots+of+pictures+641.jpg" border="0" /><br />Most the summer, I spent as much time as possible soaking up the sun. On this trip to the pool, the Johnsons did some “deep pool dove” to harvest water logged earth worms.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372968115346202754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUlrvZpWuCf2iBoYF3RIVB6Nl1ftZtuQGUzTqa_gktN768zLobtsM0hywEBEQPzxvZ8VKFGgvRJKA2LVQKXEB8Rd6a2Z9WgGdfm3TOQLWtU5_ZDQuCIf_AM7f6mEKMaKlbbvsNeOgHVF20/s320/April+to+July+073.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372968123704695634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZaxTz77Rn1M2vqTJ4IWlzCUlUgrC_GRSPF9sQO8yHXWCGAkgpG89S_8dP3WXSvDkHD1Pa5ROdqqfykCEyNww-LPgrCviPxOqkcwEyRWL9qnvR2BsDH0Zsix89Q35GjEDtf_mknkD1uwMt/s320/April+to+July+074.jpg" border="0" /> They were more excited about their finds than swimming. We enjoy our pool (and porch), it serves as a wonderful mission field for us to minister to some kids in our youth group and neighborhood. My question to you is ----What do you have that could be used as a vehicle to help others come to know Christ or build a strong relationship with Him? </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372950394183302322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_sdMLw6pMQjnfQm5vXg4GLl_YhNlnDNk0XKlMK6jc4fLlXL1sMlEAZxg1o8Jm88wgx9yj0rWoiJDPQMQv8m4_15bXSQWJuKA-bxbPpD2J4tw5Tjy0nDJP91sFKNEBSDOotzPScnA3JlDO/s320/April+to+July+031.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />This has been the most memorable spring and summer that I have had in a long time. It is obvious that I have been busy and have traveled all about because my house is a disaster zone and looks as though we have been robbed. Maybe since school has started back, I will develop a routine that allows for organization and outrageous adventures as we embark on Katie’s senior year and Charlee’s kindergarten year. </p><p> </p><p> </p>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-44838010638982554642009-08-02T16:07:00.001-07:002009-08-02T17:22:03.571-07:00A WiLd and CRazY Week.Wow what a week. It seems as though we have been around the world and back. Well close. This past week, I had the pure delight of teaching the kids music and missions on the Boomerang Express at VBS. Each night I had a red suit case packed with Mystery Missionary Clues. It was the key to my success. I could spend hours before opening the suitcase.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365513837698048210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkz9RucaojN1iQB-QfmGM2GbyqOPQLbNGZ9dQT4Ep14HF3EtJn8qKR_XpVrgnRbFvrbQoUpRTuvoOz3SWxNPH5fzucf2_dN11HPr8tm6smIrCjWhQZY_hcP4GTW0EMu76SU_QI4h5v056/s320/wild+week+013.jpg" border="0" />On Saturday afternoon, well more into the evening, like 11 o’clock, I helped Ashley set up the replica of the land down under-Australia.<br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365511490412509666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTopl89iLUullPDWwRCsJNLf5naSk6xrW9LNl9asmwChsUXstepZ6oKLh60emKZAMzV21rol8msURxBuFqJ1aip8RYziLkEJZjNSnuaTWn-Pri-OIQ0slYL_Rpi-Ik28ha_uVextx1ZnFa/s320/wild+week+003.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365511485538159426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1oEUsdhUItpMy3RC97OTja8kOoS-CVLECt026Hy0-pKiVv59TiBOxjyiloQFQEn5ZyhaUjrGxRe3D7O3hZb64-yKqsIJuLnjf_1GpDNhjLI1cpfjZta9-22cFTjW6ng9WsocyXb2qGKFV/s320/wild+week+002.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Sunday was the kick off and VBS started with an ice cream sundae party.<br /><br />Monday was the longest day ever. I had to go into work to screen kindergartners. When I left home, I thought I would be finished by lunchtime. At 5:30, I was exhausted and ready to go home, when I noticed I had locked my keys in the car--- I had to wait for mom to bring me a spare set of keys. Needless to say, I arrived at church just in time to swallow my food whole and then dance the night away at VBS. After VBS, we had to completely clean the sanctuary for a funeral.<br /><br />Tuesday I got up early to fix dressing, peas, & Mac and cheese for the family at the funeral. After lunch, several of us, worked diligently to recreate the Australian masterpiece in the sanctuary. We have the best church members any church could ask for :~). We thought we would take a quick dip in the pool before church, but as with most of summer afternoons we were rained out. So we only had a few minutes.<br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365516394324701186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhn1gq7PyqjJra4LHZLZB2_wIfNrO-hvLR3owuiBGmvclDivCmD3L5uRHRo9LpT6oU43QejhjWvMcEAnyug2OfKCf6JUbMWpG3GQup89d86GoPu8jNFfFMqUkKDIwtyccaQUtpqFgzoZ0Q/s320/wild+week+012.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Wednesday was just as busy. Once again I had to work, this time planning our preplanning week for teachers. This was a GREAT meeting because we were able to clear a few days so I can go to the lake with my family for the first time in years. YEAH Charlee spent the day with her Aunt Margie and Katie and the kids went Meme’s. As I had mentioned in an earlier post, Charlee has been diagnosed with Sensory Integration Issues. Two days a week, we have a “play date”. She loves it and thinks it’s wonderful. Katie had friends over for a sleepover.<br /></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365513816079452002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnFFkwyq7R2uDRFnyd6GS4tIl5Uv6BFQPfPfaWH_-drOLBgDSAzU2BrTEEkU5au3hQ4K_a5WJMKsesp2lS44DPbG2wpNBl_chyphenhyphentoNz96EyXnH9V0IQFlj7DOdPMRr4VqjX_JQlP7HTnFc/s320/wild+week+005.jpg" border="0" /> They were so funny. They played Barbie’s with Charlee, gave each other pedicures and laughed the night away. I wish I had pictures of the evening. I don’t know what was more hilarious the girls dressing Barbie or all three girls sitting on the side of the tub with mask on their faces and scrubs on their feet. My bathroom smelled like a beauty parlor.<br /><br />Thursday was the BEST day of the week for me, but not for Charlee. Our youth went tubing down the Ichetucknee River.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365513827186164482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKu_Y9CqhyphenhyphenmrHptA_a0GAvH5Lmbv6M5PJgHScucSEgEkeycFGdfLKCTDAaePEs4J94t0FtnmeX6lt1lopNIzpvRejMqOCzqwAluGw9U7gcVgrZlZbACshyphenhypheneaBef8G8u9BunTZ_O18_RvX/s320/wild+week+008.jpg" border="0" /> Each kid rented a huge inner tube, but after all the tubes were passed out we had one extra. We took the extra one for her. I tied Presley, Charlee, and the fish raft that was original brought for Charlee and my boat tighter with some hay string I found on the bank of the river. Being old and less invigorated by cold water, I tugged along the boat for myself. All the older grandkids made the trip with us. Due to my in laws recent kitchen and bath renovations we carried Charlee with us. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365513828446279538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqg3nXqoetP5zeK3oYdtj5iAtNtv8T2OBmGlWvt80pL40uT1NNLMewjJlUlkEr-gSlFGPTKvE-b-aw4hT176onN__nUgIMqKZLVxlTGwKQbpJABrh3vRlw1QRFArOD7VVr-5Ggwv16w2r9/s320/wild+week+011.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We stayed, surprising, together the entire journey, thank the Lord. I was just beginning to adapt to the frigid water when Charlee lend back to see the beauty of the sky when low and behold…… she flipped over. Without considering the near freezing temperatures of the water, I jumped into the water to rescue my child. Take note; I forget to leave my swimsuit cover and shoes on the shore. She was hanging on for dear life to the handles of her tube. I could see her wide eyes through the translucent tube. She may have been in the water less time than most bull riders hang on to a bucking bull. She never said a word nor did she cry….but she definitely made a grab for the boat instead of her tube. Katie noticing the commotion, immediately abandons her tube to help. Thank the Lord the water was shallow, but the current was like a raging river.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365524125700402306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fLiNx1S5E1z3Ke0Qy0A085krrJj43HP1gB20iO2d1De-pvgG4cLhZPlwkaXj1uN__nxu-DVgruJjvcv42XMObvRLwdkHr4KXU6IxDNrDDSm4rKCJWbbGaXD-VaJ5sXOUtsfxvOkGQ5GT/s320/wild+week+2+002.jpg" border="0" /> Once Charlee was safe again, I tried to position my larger than the hole body, on the tube. Needless to say, I looked like a whale perched on the tube. Katie tried diligently to help. The whole time the current is sucking our massive caravan down stream. Charlee is petrified that she is going to flip again. Finally, I made it atop my raft and then it was to secure Katie back on hers. She being the smartest one in the family “trespassed” on to some strangers dock and jumped back on her tube. We were headed happily back down stream when Charlee speaks her first word after the escapade “See, I told you, I shouldn’t have come”. Yes I should have known from my own past experiences, that a trip down the Ichetucknee is filled with adventure and moments of near death experiences. Example being, when I was a youth at PGBC, my mom hauled a group of wild hoodlum girls to float down the run. During our peaceful excursion we encountered a mom gator, which took it upon herself, to act as a river guide and float along with us. I encourage you to ask my mom about this, as it is much too lengthy and detailed for me to recall by myself. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365521613494923378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPG2yIutb6fbfNgQTSstXJDoj4fHXmEk7lrc4BKX-KHshFfFOlgF6MAww48lwZoo5FoxsSRenAAKuazoFSy1xYl-slst3C-1Cb_Ul01AQxIqMwVjfiR0ZhiA32Dn9y9cBqv7SMJ4QYLc8V/s320/wild+week+006.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We successfully made it to the mouth of Santa Fe and the end of the run, ultimately the conclusion of our journey on the watercourse. We then proceeded with our “15 minute” walk back to the put in spot. Unlike the state park, this private section did not offer a taxi ride. Remember I told you, I forgot to take off my cover up, now soaking wet, well mixed with gritty sand, a 40 minute walk along a pebble/ lime rock road toting a boat, a fish raft, two large tubes, and Charlee--- it was miserable.</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365513822844440034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxmLfAN452QxDBegju9ygiHGS-lA2TbCy-7WHCE5cIcYux8lgPjD7RlZuEmjMzyHw50McqEBmJygtJ0wmDENs4lSu4t7Uiub_IGb8LZtPVejTP2Jq_O2FhJuNpN1Bdv_lym3Dih1bjzVn/s320/wild+week+007.jpg" border="0" /> However, I felt more sympatric for the Musens, a retired missionary couple in their 70’s. Oh, did I forget to mention the massive thunderclouds and rumbling thunder ---the lighting came later. When we finally made it back to the post, I hopped in the truck to retrieve the missionaries (maybe they’ll put a good word in for me). When I got back, everybody was loading up on the church bus. The youth pastor was afraid of the terrible storm that was quickly approaching. Since the kids waited 20 minutes for me that morning, I offered to stay behind to wait for the man to return for the tubes. He had explained earlier, that they had a problem with other people stealing the tubes. I chuckled to myself “yeah right” but I waited any way. Katie, in-between lightning and the heavy down pours, climbs in the back of truck to get everybody a drink. When Lacey comments “Aunt B that man just grabbed 2 tubes” I jumped out of the truck as though I was the Tube Police and bounced over to the truck load with wool boogers and asked for the tubes back. The smoking dude, (to clarify, not smoking hot good-looking), in the back said in a lame kind of way “I thought they were the parks and were free”. Uh…. that would be a negative. I was waiting the houchie in the front of the truck to jump me. Funny enough, he gave them back and they went down the road looking for more tubes to steal. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365524115963975426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ip9c3z5DHz4q7VqXF13BKFpbPL5UeiDrbn6wrr2iVJ64A8YNbZmZyPc6oLCRlaJdguSkUtPZtKeKGRLTkBrMMows4CMjhbOSUnJqMlKU0KhPSnI8eUCEqvb9SFi7LUoDfs_W4bKN6u4K/s320/wild+week+2+001.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We returned home to prepare for the final night of VBS. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365524127266268098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNpaBMICFS78riUzZF8__iR2zvADuEkS51tQh5H0coab1ZEi4ej6SVJ79uAgkAdxivYo30RmVDlnaI-zAKWFQ992ujn9hkooJJoE6YSxLA230CNnJM7cxtXHkz5BV-LOiwqdlVS8f68BH/s320/wild+week+2+003.jpg" border="0" />After the commencement service, once again we tore the stage apart. Luckily for a church in Bell, they gathered’ the extravagant decoration for their exciting week. By the time I had made it home Charlee was asleep. I grabbed her to lay her in bed when I noticed she was burning up with fever. I woke her up and gave her some Motrin. The next morning, no fever. By lunch, burning up again. I called the pediatrician. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365516399856914610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUL0Lnjm96e57WHLWiNhSOlIUFZj-beapu8GDx0N_NqmOvMVCupGgyrZ6-KoZyEvW5CQqnpysvFf-GxYTQhBtuH8jeJCCCtbEvB3tde07KkQaPY4bObSnUkWXiOjiWdnSwU18B5OH9qAFJ/s320/wild+week+017.jpg" border="0" />We headed for the BIG town, with everybody in tow. While we were in the doctor’s office Katie and the kids hit the new and awesomely improved playground up town. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365516400249025922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbqgm0Mj9jkw6W7_sju_iEnpgp0HGOlJ2x53VvjSUwx5yDHLWWI6ydXoUMeGYqTOgMtG4gsqnb7TcIblnGKw1cZmQ3J6lxtoPJe4sk2C6fqjl9TGkIqvCoDsuGCqNoQuze2kqoz1ZwV5y/s320/wild+week+019.jpg" border="0" />At first the doctor found nothing wrong but ironically decided to do a throat cultural--- you guessed it STREP. This broke my heart, Saturday was the annual Quincey Family reunion. I knew there was no way I would reunite with my dear loved ones.<br /></div><div>However, Saturday night my wonderful dad picked off peanuts and mom invited us over for HOT BOILED PEANUTS. My southern roots were overflowing with joy.</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365519117434668786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpJs6x0-Nip1FCsvbwuiY-W4gjWrpRj19paZKL-NcFeNHFtq78_7ZVGWJadO9tqz_wuGKn2HayqpvU2LSMF5SKNVxZwKpZLmo1yFre3d1qDRnXQZfRDGgTpihRUWu0KO1_kr6W0ImFEPa/s320/wild+week+023.jpg" border="0" /> Mom fixed us sausage sandwiches.<br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365519113096407410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNWLMWSCIxfH3Shqpo44Qc8WxqZbjfX4kn8c6G7J09JHsaxT52sAnQG8W-aifVEGKeKKWqeol4mRRRxJIIvF9Nx3C_U9AMz2OmvTjuTNTfFgSC6rwVgXDg1NS92QNJvZfsVPlfJQUmAem/s320/wild+week+022.jpg" border="0" />The evening ended with a magnificent view- <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365519102350915762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5bdwqenBGm4QygKGfTXGecBsp_8Yg_HGPzxtaSict5p4ARvLlWTjkJXaZVfUtNTtB75yZRXOAqkblCPz-FPjse72tLjMRC-W6IQpuECcTRItNC8rjXjCjwTUb8sEJeV9CR82wBTidCdN/s320/wild+week+020.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Out side of visiting with my parents, this is my most favorite things about mom and dad’s house. Even though Charlee was still a little under the weather, she had enough energy to swing at Meme’s. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365519109984212498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNSJWEGhIlEi49Qp_L5PH4OBVQa5aK4lNUMlzAFnRUWyX1q0vHJC-w4BknJ8ARKa0rjjuT1dQlq2xiz9ZqAsoyE2Qa2lATg0CpWWcYGhXUBurV_cSEuh1gKn-W5MO6gmuCv5yt5XXA7mP/s320/wild+week+021.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It seems as though everyday of VBS was filled to capacity with adventure. Maybe next year’s VBS week will be just as much fun and eventfull.<br /></div><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-6444719001599205752009-07-25T10:26:00.000-07:002009-07-25T11:20:46.725-07:00Pickin' Grass Seed<div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362460353286847218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFRTQsQL4HupcWzuuIlctDHfMIiVurFZ6I3YD0ZwLkVFDCvgjvpmHCrNscsDHnNcZ06tj-v-r_02Ryu2-oKumVVLNPpGi2ZZiXmxOymp3fKmZ8VkYI7cYwCrMyiTkG6Ic2OmT3rYKYrn_0/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+025.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><div><div><div>My man, on Sundays is the best looking, best smelling man I know. He is the image of anything but a farmer, well that is until you see is boots. </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362463757938749714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfb2x9CoAMxCGNZW_SXzx5h9qCGYjyJka1uJdkhUzLt1X0v0Sgw9huqfI9qt1FxZ6ujTV6mG0qmsFk61YM3aULnBdtYSJYBLy39CTEFTtxjf5Ie8H3-uE2qDvuq8W6iXwxRW6ZD_voPk1u/s320/April+to+July+005.jpg" border="0" />Monday through Saturday is a completely different story. His clothes smell nothing like the man I can’t get close enough to in church. If I could enclose a stractch and sniff you would totally agree. The first time my family meet Steven, they asked if I was sure that he was a farmer ‘cause he looked like a pretty boy in his hot pink Hilfiger (yes Isaid HOT PINK) and starched Wrangler. </div><div><br />For the last few weeks, they have <em><strong>tried</strong></em> to pick grass seed- our new sources of income since we have stopped growing tobacco. However, this past year the rain has caused pure havoc on the seeds. While waiting out the rain, they have spent numerous hours mechanizing on the mean green grass seed eating machines. </div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362457036352284722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIY1M08Awr7ggz1euJcmdC7lM0gi5HGwmhZeLuCXD6ZYM8kenD-kNKKS4TVx9VfDtAk4BvIcYtZ-cd5wrAWBz3I7BHSSIDfqqUKEfl6qBh28vikgyUah6sbgX7oQy5S6b4Q0S5MhxaQvx/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+007.jpg" border="0" />Despite the aggrevation, he still pursues the fields as though the bounty is plentiful. Last week, I had the privilege of helping them (Murrell, Robert, David and Steven) relocate to the next field of seeds. Steven has mentioned on several occasions that all of my posts are about my side of the family. So, I decided to do a post on the Hines Brothers men. The partnership originated with two brothers, Murrell and Robert and Murrell’s two sons- - hence Hines Brothers. Steven later bought into the partnership right after we married. They have dibbled and dabbled in almost everything except making moonshine. Come to think of it, Derrick makes homemade blueberry wine. Okay maybe they have been involved in everything.<br /><br />Back to my original reason for the post, Steven asked me to come to the field and being his work truck, then take him back to the barn to get the semi-truck. When we first started dating it amazed me that Steven could drive a semi truck. I’ll never forget my first ride in the big honker. I was terrified the entire ride. Steven had commented on the rats that occupied the cab. My mind could only think “where I could go if the rat got on me or even worse what if a snake sneaked up on me and slithered upon my feet”. Needless to say, I could barely enjoy the time alone with my honey. Since then I have learned to sit Indian style or better yet only ride with my honey-love if we haul the seeds in the comfort of our truck.<br /></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362462456397220498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajiRpCnQonBKil4Qm4iXZSWtOPJhb7agM7Q5XNECeoqbaLLCpexfi0FH3pr5UOioaQwlZUbvihDXbqTpTLCfdqonwIPyuzOqbsaGSrR58hjtiXQrKSJYAhhQ6pM8jTDASwoXnycM3ikCd/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+029.jpg" border="0" /><br />Back to the story—<br /><br />We load all the kids in the truck. </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362458402634156802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWfVwqqpctRiDZw8KFgYRtcAbyuAjma9Hkx6CdAhP-IYjgAo0WFgX_eK5PeqoXF1Fy1UaH-3w5dbzop17xshKxbsSHfPemHn0m_8wTwLHLKM1zjBXO19akirEMVdaZ-4jdL82SDc2IPVP/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+019.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We stopped at the barn to get Steven’s truck when I noticed the barnyard full of combines. We searched high and low for Steven when Charlee spotted him—so she thought it was actually David. It amazes me the resemblance between all of them. As we peeked around the other machines we soon found our dad. Unfortunately the men have spent more time it seems like repairing the equipment than actually using it.<br />Part of the convoy proceeded to the grass field- 3 combines, 2 pick ups, 1 semi and a truck load of children. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362457032613390226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4L-9YtoLHc89Oa3-Yzqn6V7_ZBAUW70lGPufXR28A84RkNUeN5b6FXEFwQvGaTDZvKiOVA1bemgSLZ3tx237BvlN1unztnFwJUQ_Hj-gxwlpZfSm_AcNow5oHx1oEtoChTCZQaIY3zFXx/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+003.jpg" border="0" />As we drove down the on lane road, I thought-- I hope we don’t meet anyone along the way. The road is very tight and has he most beautiful canopy. It wasn’t long before we meet a car. they pulled over and patiently waited for the band of farm machinery to pass. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362458397706057618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0xXEV4oEALwMmiACMN7xixxna9ugpx7lVUX6LO15dsdAtf-zKXc6_zkPEP2NwpockvtAakd19UDdYOyCnaE7Oao0zjrVRlg9cQkoHhvkX1owOgzymZc-DGVCVCSAIBD8hMfmHtYpjPku/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+015.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />You would never know by the excitement, that everyone in the truck was farm kids. Dillon commented that when he gets out of high school he wants to work on the farm. His dad manages one of the BIGGEST farms in Alachua, plus they live on a small farm. He said “I wish Uncle Steven would let me ride with him”. I replied “yeah I wish he’d let me ride some time”, then Charlee chirped in “your too old to ride with dad”. As kid I loved to go the fields and watch my dad and brothers harvesting peanuts, baling hay picking soybeans, that was, until I got old enough to help out. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362460343063777842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSGBgzU9PVRIiKd9mgD2kmaO_rJ2nq1nBDuCMkzgRoO9VPXXbkjIXi1tKAyyO8BnZmiGTDUAI85zdNbfKOwisN0fjXJLFBFmGC1hQB1weqK7wWcAvOdJkyU1SG1aeq_u2a-0Ynr1BR_uC/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+021.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />When we arrived at the hay field, David immediately began picking. Then Steven arrived he cleared a small area to park the semi. As we headed out the gate we noticed Murrell coming with the semi. We all laughed as he cleared his path into the field knocking over small trees and bushes. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362460359157141154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ZQWQGFR2tLD8NNcNz6_NrwsB8PHa1X5DOXG7SAJ34gQJs_bYNBkPkiUBkNRjfgDbXsUt8vXwiOC5uYwLifjrfI-MNceohyphenhyphenVYgn91vNPDpRo6Uf1Olals7-6s7E3CsZsaXQMy-VQcGk4n/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+032.jpg" border="0" /><br />Murrell rode back to the barn with us and the adventure was over.<br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362462463350550322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJ_gFPnlf2HduIjcG_8bH2ZMP8Spb03ZyWskBZtqE6ielIJxLMZ6zKpgiQZPPbLQIVZ8GiVrpXIkYisGs1n9cj2puON1KBzlwhyn7M6XuweR4IeEx1MhtAbFUicU4mUIP9wKskMU9-2io/s320/Picking+grass+seeds+037.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Here's one of our grass pickers that doesn't need repairing.Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-31379910702546019052009-07-15T11:53:00.000-07:002009-07-15T12:56:18.950-07:00Charlee's Night Time Routine<div><div><br /><br /><div>The other night we were sitting around my in laws table, it was getting late when the following conversation went down. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358762587863562850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMIKA0G1x5SPo8ThGmXjO2UaT4jWPQ6wai0SrsbPjVHlcnZ6n1ZB7rVjeklr9tUXyzNx1oz2jAI9CSC0l64Cl1MipcVxKQ9wEeHZkqGkyw9SSuPQ1QyOF73aYH2nbns83rtwxaOS64NEkk/s320/bfb1ae8210981428%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Mom: Let’s go home and go to bed.<br /><br />Charlee: Can we watch Kai Lan?<br /><br />Katie: I don’t like that show!!<br /><br />Charlee gives Katie the evil eye.<br /><br />Mom: It’s a good show. Last night, they talked about overcoming our fears and it helped Charlee sleep in her bed ALL night long.<br /><br />Katie: Well, she is Foreignese.<br /><br />Charlee: No, she’s not.<br /><br />Mom: Actually, I think she might be Chinese.<br /><br />Whining Charlee: No she’s not foreignese.<br /><br />Mom: You're right Charlee, she is Chinese. (Trying to prevent a temper tantrum)<br /><br />Charlee: Yeah Katie, she doesn’t have 4 knees.<br /><br />EVERYONE laughs hysterically except Charlee.<br /><br />*************************<br /><br /><br />As many of you know, I have struggled desperately to get Charlee out of our bed for several years now. </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358766143440997826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsP0s77HICuVau1QyvynW22BL4lBeK0dZuDafVCNX-aZcNQXVWVQP4NvfqJP_cXEIpDqNKoB9H81aoz9qymiqKzKvmVZVGdFeFpBERnh_I5sY_dPnrr6FeYKTYAu0YK1d9zrmu79pd7PD/s320/April+to+July+047.jpg" border="0" />I have tried everything under the sun and nothing works all the time. Here’s some of the advice I have been given.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Marsha</span> –Give her a CD player and let her listen to stories or music until she goes to sleep. <strong>Result</strong> – Hollers and complains because she wants to listen to her favorite song again or the headphones continue to fall off her teeny tiny head. Ends with Charlee getting a spanking.<br /><img class="gl_bold" alt="Bold" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" border="0" /><br /></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Doctors</span>—reassure her she is okay and let her scream it out. <strong>Result:</strong> I lose it and spank her for kicking, screaming and throwing a temper tantrum.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Our brilliant school psychologist</span> -- Put her in her bed and don’t say a word. If she gets in your bed during the night put her back in the bed just before she wakes up in the morning so she thinks she spent the entire night in her bed. Where did he get his degree???? <strong>Result:</strong> What an idiot!!! My kid is a little smarter than that plus she’s a fairly light sleeper.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Tons of others</span>—our kids still sleep in out bed. <strong>Result:</strong> The need for marriage counseling or divorce lawyer– most men like to sleep with their own wives;~)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Annie</span>—you needed to have moved her out when she was 12 weeks old or two years old. <strong>Result</strong>: too late advice.<br /><br />The advice goes on and on.<br /><br />After we returned home from church camp, I knew something had to be done. And so the adventure would begin. Steven had gone on a trip to Nebraska so I knew he wouldn’t be around to be bothered with the whining, wailing and crying until she went to sleep. Unknowingly, a friend at church, Stephanie gave me the advice that has made the longest running difference in my child’s sleep patterns.<br /><br />We start the evening off with a good meal, some family quality time (lol). Around 8:30 –9 o’clock, we begin the struggle with bath time and the fight to brush teeth, for most kids this is their favorite time of the evening. Not at our house. To let you know how bad it is, the pediatrician is thinking Charlee may have some sensory issues and is sending us to an occupational therapist. After we have settled down, Charlee then picks 3 books to read. We read the books while I sit or lay in her toddler size bed that is barely big enough for failure to thrive Charlee. At 10, we watch Kai Lan. I am beginning to wonder if this is a mistake.<br /><br />Out of no where, she starts screaming—“I don’t want to sleep by the window, the monsters are going to get me.” I have not figured out <em>who</em> has taught my child about monsters--- but I will hunt them down and show them what a real monster looks like. After we have the discussion that monsters are not real. I have to get our monster spray out and demonsterize our bedroom.</div><div> </div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358768879437682066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2J3hkBOrYWYo4bxqO9lOMKY9pgrJZXsgGudchw7hSD4K2C2w-KCY_hVUBCOt3oGgNv17Mx11FY0ajRZJLU2ZnHDY9IDfPEqv3SKj1g3sESBuvTS__NbWGUrkLN0GHYtH5fWXX3TXPOBR/s320/monster+spray.jpg" border="0" /> I spray the windows, under the bed, under the dresser everywhere a monster might lurk. The Mr. Clean man AKA the Monster Man works to keep the monster away during the night while we sleep. Needless to say, either our house is completely free of monsters or it’s the freshest smelling house in the neighborhood. Finally around 11 o’clock she gives in and goes to sleep.<br /><br />The new thing this week is for Dad to sleep on her side of the bed because he’ll kill the monsters and protect her. I am not exactly sure if we are making any progress but every night she goes to sleep in her bed. Some nights, she sleeps the entire night in her bed . But for the most part, she wakes up about 4 and gets in our bed. I typically lay her back in her bed but on occasion, I am so dead to the world that I don’t even know she's in bed with us. However, the other night the roles were reversed--I got into Charlee's bed during the middle of the night. I rolled over and landed in Charlee's bed on top of her. Steven gently grabbed me and put me back in our bed.<br /><br />We returned home from church camp on June 24, Charlee’s 5th birthday. Since that night,she has gone to sleep every night since in her bed. It may have cost me a $30 trip to Build a Bear but it was completely worth it.<br /><br />If you should need some monster spray for your home, it is sold locally at your nearest Hitchcock's, Walmart or Dollar General.<br /><br /><br /></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-54095114168360935862009-07-07T08:47:00.000-07:002009-07-07T09:03:29.525-07:00Time FliesI know, I have not posted anything in a couple of weeks. My camera is on the blitz. On a good note, that means a trip to TARGET. <br /><br />I hate it. I have lots to write about but no pictures to guide my stories. Plus it is raining cats and dogs, hence we have not had our daily afternoon swims.....yuck. We've had a fast and fantastic summer, celebrated lots of birthdays and did a lot of canning.<br /><br />Despite my unwillingness, Ashley has set me up an account on Facebook. Like I, have time to manage two blogs, a Facebook, cook 2 meals a day, work 10 days for GCSD, and swim everyday at 2. Something has gotta give. Not to mention, our school board had the nerve to change our school calendar, so we have to go back to school a week earlier---- no comment. I hope you enjoy the remaining weeks of summer---don't forget the sunscreen.Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-42391015801849723662009-06-25T12:08:00.000-07:002009-06-25T13:21:05.738-07:00Youth Group BlogI know that many of you follow Ashley's blog...but if not here is the address to our new youth group blog.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mphighsprings.blogspot.com/">http://www.mphighsprings.blogspot.com/</a><br /><br />Camp was the most wonderful adventure. I had the opportunity to teach one of the groups for our family group bible study. It made me realize how much I miss the class room. if you currently read your bible day--make it a point this week to look at the verbs or the action words. It is amazing how they illuminate what we as Christan should be doing. Another thing I had the kids do that I am going to use in my prayer journal. 3-2-1 <br /><br />3 praises for the day<br />2 people who need to know Jesus<br />1 question - Lord, what do you want me to do for you today? IF you are a night time studier you may want to change it to what did I do to further the Kingdom of Christ today?<br /><br /> I actually have watched the power of Christ make a radically transformation in child's life since he has accepted Christ as his Saviour. Because of this others are coming to know Christ. I think this has been especially exciting for me because most of the people I have seen come to know Jesus were raised in church and basically acted, talked and behaved similar to their previous standard. This person's attitude, language, behaviors, you name it --- made a "flip". If you do not know this ultimate POWER, please let me take this moment to share Christ with you.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Admit--</span><span style="font-size:100%;">that you are a sinner. <strong><em>We are have all sinned and fall short of the glory God. He wants us to repent and turn from our sinful nature Romans 3:23</em></strong> Repent means to completely change directions-- make an 180 degree turn. Ask the Lord to forgive you and guide you. <em><strong>For the Wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans </strong></em></span><br /><em><strong>6:23</strong></em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Believe--</span><span style="font-size:100%;">that Jesus is God's son. <strong><em>For everyone that calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved Romans 10:13</em></strong> The gift of salvation is free. All that he ask is that we call upon Him. He does not have a love that is based on conditions. He died a sacrificially death so that you may have eternal life with him in paradise. Our relationship with Him is not based on the works, the money we give or the perfect life we live, but that we yield our life to him. IF you truly seek Him, you will surely find Him. Seek him through prayer and reading the Bible. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Confess--</span><span style="font-size:100%;">Jesus as your Lord and Saviour. <strong><em>That if you confess with your mouth that "Jesus is Lord" and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:9.</em></strong> When we confess it literally means to come clean or admit, we ask the Lord to take the burden of sin away. To accept Christ as our Lord and Saviour, you may say a simple prayer like this:</span><br /><br /><div align="center">Dear Lord Jesus, I know that I am a sinner,</div><div align="center">And need your forgiveness.</div><div align="center">I believe that you died for my sins.</div><div align="center">I want to turn from my sins </div><div align="center">I invite you now to come into my heart and life. </div><div align="center">I want to trust and follow You as my Lord and Saviour. </div><div align="center">In Jesus Name ,</div><div align="center">Amen </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">If you prayed this prayer, I encourage you to seek a local church. Talk with the preacher about your decision and make a public profession of your faith. Become active in church, read the Bible and pray daily. May God Bless you.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a href="http://www.mphighsprings.blogspot.com/"></a> </div><div align="left">Kimberly </div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-63133126990081667672009-06-24T19:24:00.000-07:002009-06-24T20:12:17.405-07:00Oh goodness, Sakes alive--- Charlee's FiveHappy, Happy Happy birthday,<br /><br />I can't believe my Charlee is five,<br /><br />She is growing a tiny bit each and every day<br /><br />like a pumpkin on the vine.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351088523111864914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XoY94B4Ggulk1sTfbGMTeUH9_b9aEpEtn-XAytKPXfDU_9MzSHZCrqjMdz9fIdFaiDgkxqYEnhbXBNSRHA4-_pPg96i3TdcxigecDTx8E4_Fi6EYy9-R09xlNAQqd84PfUVpUjkbTuDB/s320/6-3-07+008.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Now that she's five,<br /><br />No longer a cuddly little baby (lol)<br /><br />But a precious little girl<br /><br />That has a lot to see in this big world.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351097068518960338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8UdCeGKRl3fieK7yz9XwbB0pih4eXl6yw8aEGx0RKQfKF7xKu8F4RXqec7bxN6kd_FGMGD-vGMS3OhBmjag1LqkshIjkXzV9FwEbnZ8-rvfGWCUNwnCDpLT07F6c7n8AW4zJ5jVSe9xb/s320/034_21A.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><p>Unfortunately, we were unable to have big celebration today. Steven flew out to Nebraska early this morning and I returned from youth church camp that was at Orange Beach, Alabama. Thank goodness, when Aunt Annie brought her to the church to meet us, she was able to celebrate with leftover cupcakes from Wednesday night supper (thanks Michelle D.) She enjoyed thecupcake and as we sang "Happy Birthday" she looked at us as though we had lost our minds. I am hoping, we can have a blast of a party on the Fourth.<br /> </p><p> </p><p><br /><br /> </p>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-33237652422677821342009-06-13T13:01:00.001-07:002009-07-15T07:37:19.940-07:00Big Times in Cowtown for Kate<div><br />
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<br /><div>I am beginning to wonder if Katie needs a personal manager. This past week she was at the FFA Convention. To Katie’s surprise, she took home the BIG prize of State Winner in the area of Beef Production Entrepreneurship, plus a little cash.</div>
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<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346908767747328946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBA19-hmOYAfoXjPtUgVc_-oatOsRBtl43VkbYD0XoT-OMMk2NH_clGV63amypPa9LghZMVYg70ixkFpwh4ErI1vKJqqYIxr2ZfwbRnUdwolNdOv1_FI16WO0cLc4mLRPATyYsw5dH_uD/s320/katie+004.jpg" border="0" />Which means another trip will be scheduled on her agenda. Hopefully with some help, from an expert in FFA Proficiencies, she might stand a chance of winning nationally. One of the Judges, offered to help us prefect her application.</div>
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<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346908770397671282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAfXdSkM3FyZoYiw74jD91q78bOqGPbnjdml2AKek99AfAypa6FnhUzCFOF1rs-_gUvKAAbyZV_XhDE9-4gvg_LMyTKg181s4kJcLsj_51MOSadGMXIduJfSxZnwSGLuZZdHNAwUdhyphenhyphen7B/s320/katie+005.jpg" border="0" /> Typically they only allow older kids to win, due to the stiff competition higher up, but he felt as though her project has the potential to win-or a least be in the top 5.</div>
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<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346908775557839250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRkOhCByLx3O9nxujXqZT23upKuTCyokwu4YvYv9eFc5g_QGvHG8yyyMCk52MNcmMFS2T6u0bsn_c8wsq4K2_ZkoesLJF1ielw2gv5IA-cmweV6uItBx1wTSzKS17byuKPAKRPBreikQX/s320/katie+006.jpg" border="0" /> Katie owes a BIG thank you to Ms. Marsha Cook for her talent in vivid descriptive writing, her dad for the money and knowledge to help develop her project.<br /><br />Next week she leaves for the Cattlemen’s Convention, where she will work in the Angus booth sporting her tiara and sash. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346908757370544210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDHBHwU9Pv8clVKji_SIVNPHffjUw-eu3-qggjtN2DSYaFX4476JaqePyC0QOGg4rbhl1mR45ljI-DYG-pFLhRJUD-we38btdJkeB66a8C0vYca06l-DWgaBV21cVGgJw7TutyGa34NSEv/s320/katie+001.jpg" border="0" />She’ll enjoy fame, the beautiful beaches, while dancing the nights away. Did I forget to mention, maybe she’ll meet some cute cowboys? What more could a country girl ask for? Sounds like a cowgirls dream. She will travel with my sister and her family.<br /><br />Katie returns home on Friday and leaves again for youth camp on Saturday. However this road trip mom will be in tow. This will be the first youth camp I have been to in 15-20 years. I am very excited but would like to solicit any prayers that you may want to offer for our kids. A lot of the youth going with us are not Christian nor do they come from families that support them spiritual. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346908760215978466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8v3VPMSQ5EdUMEdTwvuw3TWKmoHF9KuNTX6pfoxCFwaQIKDRc57LTQhENzNS1tBAPO79YHsUw1lUytmGTKnNoPogU-ypVmWsqG_e3LHvC5wceVSuT8rMMXIJaPkab8DO4UPRipX8Eh9sC/s320/katie+002.jpg" border="0" />I will have to say they are awesome kids and every time I am with them, I am blessed beyond means. I will be leading the middle school youth for our daily church discussion and Bible study. The theme is FLIP meaning that when we accept Christ, we should flip /change from our old self. There will be about 35 people going. Specifically pray for wisdom for the adults, pray for positive attitudes (everybody) safety traveling, that the HOLY SPIRIT will move in a massive way and that lives will ultimately be changed for eternity.<br /><br /><br />I hope July is not quite as hectic…. </div></div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-37556323799005251062009-06-03T14:52:00.000-07:002009-06-03T15:58:42.257-07:00Tyler's Graduation<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div align="center">Friday night, we went to my nephew’s high school graduation. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDxeT66zGMNPkBf6bEmRNFixF6HckH9ujhUTEW0lmJauOFkaeRIfHB9Y_4RxBFimHU_jcunrwTL3PgAES6c_BjuIsgT-wiE6-5n1Yn1iweRRmc6jbIFDwnfaDZR2WrUSByYrHx4sylmqi/s1600-h/tyler's+graduation+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343230660679618994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDxeT66zGMNPkBf6bEmRNFixF6HckH9ujhUTEW0lmJauOFkaeRIfHB9Y_4RxBFimHU_jcunrwTL3PgAES6c_BjuIsgT-wiE6-5n1Yn1iweRRmc6jbIFDwnfaDZR2WrUSByYrHx4sylmqi/s320/tyler's+graduation+013.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">As I thought about my post, the words from the play <em>Fiddler on the Roof</em> came to mind. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343238836274116466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL3wBSnt_BheQkNf-2lwFo72imxO-PvbdtZa6CuUvwvf4kq3m6Kp46WiAytJDhHI99QLlZsNKvcK2tnDNYQQytJ45hxe-ZhVWNRKQfamvoW2x-5hNXYSviamqogPpab73Rujt3eFOJ4rj/s320/tyler's+graduation.jpg" border="0" /><br />Is this the little girl I carried?<br />Is this the little boy at play?<br /><br />I don’t remember growing older<br />When did they?<br /><br />When did she get to be a beauty?<br />When did he grow so tall?<br /><br />Wasn’t it yesterday<br />When they were small?<br />Sunrise, sunset </div><br /><div align="center">Sunrise, sunset</div><br /><div align="center">Swiftly flow the days,</div><br /><div align="center">Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers</div><br /><div align="center">Blossoming even as we gaze.<br /><br /><br />If you haven’t noticed I connect almost everything with a song.<br /><br /><br />Tyler’s graduation lasted barely an hour where as mine took an eternity.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343232987026124434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo5emIKOwWFVXRT9fknN94StQROXxuyqThpKPrU_6XUaSg1dfeByBQs9CZ_HreM3dU7a7J9o1G_sTfbg_557b4WeyPqeKNjFaxuFUTMAG1SFv9mHUkCReJHJSLWAhik4TDTMAG2Kr6O_g/s320/tyler's+graduation+016.jpg" border="0" /> I had packed snacks to entertain the kids for hours, but before I could pull out the good stuff the grads were tossing their caps into the air. Nowadays the awards and scholarship recipients are honored earlier and boy what a difference it makes. Apparently Ty-man is a tidbit smarter than his old auntie he graduated with BETA honors and a few scholarships in his pocket.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343232981054315298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxAphhWPTrVdxmqXIUGQyXD1csi00YNWRpO0LOyOr7HEqGLZBO-_eiC_zuapp1AhKxOrLxbk5NCvPnrJ8JpXua8uG0BytIuIds-40C5cKpaH1t0rxuSXlTViiHjf9OZVZxEHxB8AUK8oT/s320/tyler's+graduation+017.jpg" border="0" /> Tyler has known for several years that he plans to pursue a career in entomology. Twenty years out and I still am not certain what I want to do. This summer he will have the opportunity to work at the university and get some real hands on experience with BUGS. </div><br /><div><br /><br />On Memorial Day, his mom hosted a birthday and graduation party. It was quiet interesting to see the motley cruel that he has made friends with. Starting on the left is Will the Officer and Gentleman, Anthony the Punk Rocker, Louis the Bilingual Genius, and none other than the <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00">All knowing Mad scientist </span>Tyler.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343232988956279618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgiRw0JxnouMGKBaQSpt28MkASoDvvbS8t-2NVE2EXsfrxgmc-gqKmcoNnxdSLcVZAnMyu6evN8JhyphenhyphenoYIKnvz6RBOScCIdDsqBYlL-X8aPvcHx5NVNU4tPlRWaxXbXRQ0mc38WI_Hkuh1/s320/tyler's+graduation+019.jpg" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3EoTwBMVatL4ADA9kMho0Y_KqXEalYzZggTuHzMaxD9TFJJSb6_YRZU2ANpM9cYkDYfa-BBLlQC2y0Rw5sdLHpjquHt7JkJ9EUb0oirAwGyGSzA8vDaRje9N5hePkHXkKEax9chk8dxIe/s1600-h/tyler's+graduation+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343230640894725042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3EoTwBMVatL4ADA9kMho0Y_KqXEalYzZggTuHzMaxD9TFJJSb6_YRZU2ANpM9cYkDYfa-BBLlQC2y0Rw5sdLHpjquHt7JkJ9EUb0oirAwGyGSzA8vDaRje9N5hePkHXkKEax9chk8dxIe/s320/tyler's+graduation+001.jpg" border="0" /></a>They were all exceptionally polite and extremely smart. Steven and I really got a kick out of them. We had an afternoon of great food, volleyball (even in the pouring down rain and lighting)<br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAL11_kpaGBLkAajiznHx23l2z2CvJv0cZ0cBe_YtVmpEjT3NXvhG1817FHywfKT33fO7xFgKNdSx1GtbXr5H1yDBA-C_UkffzkHoiywtC2vx_J1w_gdTthPbbAcmoFOdId02tMjwBvg86/s1600-h/tyler's+graduation+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343230648248638450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAL11_kpaGBLkAajiznHx23l2z2CvJv0cZ0cBe_YtVmpEjT3NXvhG1817FHywfKT33fO7xFgKNdSx1GtbXr5H1yDBA-C_UkffzkHoiywtC2vx_J1w_gdTthPbbAcmoFOdId02tMjwBvg86/s320/tyler's+graduation+008.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>,<br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>the ninja game, and my favorite---swimming pool kick ball.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKj7QzVgi0WVW16l6KMVAy5g5JoTcjWRHHC-R3PAqkMuQpxmNnRIZYADPPApfBzsEo4Yi71dtA9ZThz_GmvySztks5_Fg35q5rhqEfnixc-LHRw8WdY2pgxG_kVA5diq5ytFJ5IpkRyMqc/s1600-h/tyler's+graduation+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343230646273672578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKj7QzVgi0WVW16l6KMVAy5g5JoTcjWRHHC-R3PAqkMuQpxmNnRIZYADPPApfBzsEo4Yi71dtA9ZThz_GmvySztks5_Fg35q5rhqEfnixc-LHRw8WdY2pgxG_kVA5diq5ytFJ5IpkRyMqc/s320/tyler's+graduation+004.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Everyone in attendance had a great time. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutfrPuoEG1CF-R_cEnEtD8VAwBACXh7DHl8zk8YMkBBPJD_dsV7dLwD6L_JWNZ2lmA0n7NrGJgHEFkIlLNRzsN3jfH1h5uWDAYc_uIK0k9qWHWZWYaEh3zNzZDsD4fdUZDzxZGJYhRtVh/s1600-h/tyler's+graduation+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343230653095491186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutfrPuoEG1CF-R_cEnEtD8VAwBACXh7DHl8zk8YMkBBPJD_dsV7dLwD6L_JWNZ2lmA0n7NrGJgHEFkIlLNRzsN3jfH1h5uWDAYc_uIK0k9qWHWZWYaEh3zNzZDsD4fdUZDzxZGJYhRtVh/s320/tyler's+graduation+007.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I can’t believe that a year form now it will be me, the mom of a graduate. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343232996201836082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimiKGc8g692-5HsN4TYbROKdrUOV5bQRm-Ux473uH1QZMhhuYVOdzWhH3YOXvxhLgS-eIOO37ZKl_QG1QjSfeze_5MsMLzhR3Q5hk8tebDQV5yQEIHw0MJ3ROTSvEuLNETB5tvCYAHw4au/s320/tyler's+graduation+020.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-66839736474310474812009-05-26T16:18:00.000-07:002009-05-26T17:18:22.968-07:00A Giggle, a Prayer and a Miracle<div>As with almost everything, I am late with this post and a miracle is already in the works--Ain't God Good . See end of post for latest update.<br /><br />That‘s the first thought that comes to mind when I think of my precious friend Rebecca. She has a contagious smile. With every word she speaks, it is the faintest whisper that resounds with a soft giggle. She has that delightful personality mixed with the purest of happiness that only comes from our LORD above.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340276791198283906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 311px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIrGk8sIsTmUDc-EdMDQ_woalsBzNTu9uKMTs1hf4rRWLQSniTMHbgutYfpHNnZ2v3OWQCW2K5XlrW6sWDqq4knZoeFWNy9BeH6lX4sXJWcF_nVZiceetSfxsDEWwEZ1uEy00CBCZx_Nz/s320/shawn+and+rebecca.JPG" border="0" /> It would only be natural for her to be married to a man with similar qualities. Shawn is the sweetest thing. He adores his bride –which is evident in the way he watches her with twinkling eyes and the biggest grin. Not to mention, he has an incredible talent for playing the guitar and singing.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340276788295015474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1IDT2vf6JZFWLUlPlhhU3FR2VWgi3ulCPMLrpUMq48U7U5lP1IEwUESXgScAevchh3ja_xps1Ch4S9kzqYCkFP9FHZkqcTNKxSXXQcA13kgXvC2KiOctpnImFVxYkUpcinzsDH73RcVN/s320/shawn+and+isaac.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><div>For ten years, they tried to have a baby, in God’s special timing, HE blessed them with Mr. Isaac. He is a bundle of joy. Undoubtedly, he is the offspring of his adorable parents. He was one of many miracles the two of them have encounter because of God’s grace. When Isaac was born, they battled a few difficulties but once again because of God’s goodness he is a thriving toddler. He has stolen our hearts away with his charming smile and chuckle. We just can’t get enough of his sugar, that is, when his Aunt D and Grandma will share with us.<br /><br />A few weeks ago, Rebecca and Shawn announced that they were expecting again. The entire church was ecstatic. We love babies…<br /><br /><br />Around 11 weeks, Rebecca went to the doctor for a regular checkup. However, when Rebecca’s routine blood work was reviewed the unthinkable was discovered. The doctor noticed an abnormal high white blood count—round 14.1to 18.1. She also had a positive result for BCR-ABL and the possibility of Leukemia.<br /><br />The doctor sent Rebecca to oncologist doctor. As Rebecca sat in the waiting room for the first time, she looked around the room at all of these people. Inside she was screaming, “God I don't belong here, I don't belong here. But, I ask you this, who does?????<br />"Nobody does".<br /><br />Unfortunately, the findings revealed that Rebecca could have Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia or "CML. Last week, Rebecca underwent a bone marrow biopsy, which consequently will let her family know what they are specifically dealing with.<br /><br />Shawn and Rebecca are very adamant to not undergo any treats in which harm could be inflicted on their unborn child. Which as most of you know medically….there is very little that can be done for her over the course of her pregnancy. From my understanding, as soon as the baby is strong enough, around 32 to 36 weeks, they will take the baby and immediately begin aggressive treatments for Rebecca.<br /><br /><br />In many ways we can look at this doom and gloom ….but OUR GOD is a LOVING GOD. Just look at the blessing already in progress—<br /><br />They live near the world’s greatest medical facility<br />Tons of family and friends are there to help<br />Rebecca’s mom is a nurse.<br />They have good insurance.<br />Isaac is a good natured baby.<br />Numerous people are praying daily on their behalf and the unborn baby.<br /><br /><br />My list could go on and on and on. On every corner of our life, God is there, whether we are on top of the mountain or down the valley. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know, HE is going to do another miracle in the life of Rebecca and Shawn.<br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340276785880453554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs90mTn6jfQnBPIhlaiV3cu8VwREOeWqcszLB3tBXaLchSNH4PuK1KXfiTAgp6caL_IBalL0zV6uZ6xbx9qw7NiCjDQKcSVp15vSyK2eunTKgoH2SCsEaLzVkqyTR1GksqAkp-0Y3mlKql/s320/s+anr+family.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Specific things Rebecca and her family want us to pray for<br />Peace of mind and assurance for the couple.<br />Strength for everything--- the pregnancy and the Leukemia both have the side effect of fatigue.<br />Pray for the unborn baby’s health, between 32-36 weeks they will take the baby.<br />Pray for wisdom through the decisions the doctors will need to make concerning Rebecca and the baby.<br />Pray for the family members that will need to care for Rebecca. They will need lots of physical and mental strength. Especially, after the baby is born. They will have to help with a newborn and a two year old.<br /><br />I have included my latest email I received from Rebecca on May 26 at 7:00<br /><br />Hello everyone, first of all I want to thank each and every one who is reading this email right now. Thank you for your prayers, thoughts and encouragement. Today I called to check on the Bone Marrow Biopsy report. The report came back NEGATIVE for Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia and it also came back NEGATIVE for the BCR-ABL the original Gene that came back positive for Leukemia. We are waiting for one last test to come back<br />Fluorescent in situ hybridization (FISH)<br /><br />Please keep praying for us. Even in these times that we have went through and going through God Is Good and I praise him ever single day. When I talked to the lady on the phone today about this she said to me this is really weird and strange I said " no its not" I have people praying for me and I have been praying for my self as well.<br /><br />Tomorrow, I go to the high risk pregnancy Dr. and keep me in your prayers about the pregnancy and keep praying for us the (FISH) results as well. Thank You all again and We Love each and everyone of you.<br /><br />Love & Prayers,<br />Rebecca, Shawn & Isaac<br /><br />Isaiah 41:10 </div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-76127666255729415672009-05-19T16:01:00.000-07:002009-05-19T17:14:29.093-07:00Daddy's Watermelons-- Sweet ans Juicy, Well Not Yet<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><br />Y’all know I love Monday nights, this week (last week really) was no different, if anything it was better than most. Angela invited one of our cousin’s daughters over while her mother finished working on a set for the children’s play at church Sunday night. Notice how much she resembles Charlee. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337680021857214338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioR_6O4IZq67RNwZs8m7yJ7QnuhKIR2jmFnL0H-7S3bS-6w7gqtT2FSpDm8gB0iCUQIFkrDtud4j0_zVsj0Vijpmf2w1l5HvSxkPqxwR6fi5aUMW6ALZbw7Fmmhv57dhCkMbu06nJEpdWv/s320/watermelon+picking+004.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />When her Gigi arrived to pick her up, she ran to the car and proclaimed to Gigi that she just had to come <em>smell the kitchen</em>. Angela had fixed the most amazing chicken ‘n rice and green beans with new potatoes. I stewed and fried squash plus fried some chicken. So yeah, the kitchen smelled pretty righteous. After a little begging, Gigi agreed to stay. Aunt Bernice also dined with us. The meal was wonderful. Gigi and Anna had to hurry home with a plate for little brother at home with Grandpa.<br /><br />After we had finished our countryman’s feast, dad mentioned he needed to go start the pivot and he would take the grand girls for their usual tour of the melon field. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337682431548966418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxC8S5CpQCT8HZgjKEQ0FH-4z-IRYd5E84tA_hMG9fSN85bn7X-wIDDM8Vwpjmk6cRLA3oETeoEa0TlPioNg_1ZNuKqyNu1WS1bMWK2-RviiUWZmNfIMQqCR6Z0l-UHrIz_9tDAjJvC4B/s320/watermelon+picking+015.jpg" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div>I insisted that we all “load up” and go. Aunt Bernice of course, wanted to clean the kitchen first, but I persisted that the dirty dishes would not go anywhere while we were gone.<br /><br /><br />Dad wasn’t too sure about all of us loading up in his truck. Really I think he didn’t want to clean out the front seat of the truck (or embarrassed) nor did he want to unload the back of the truck. <div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337680038510357410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2nV5-XK3VKaBUsAfXv7fvJZ7iGEw2Gd2NczqjIv6Vigjja8t7y80BClH7CawQwyrC7EvdVO_RfFa8tLl7ySequmuZjXl4mdfjS2yuFLPaWz04tFfLAZa5BPe9SpTS7lTIFy1I_p57iMW/s320/watermelon+picking+011.jpg" border="0" />Dad fretted over the junk in front and I moved the sharp objects and barbwire out of the back. <div> </div><div> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337680045438230738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hRAXvC2NBDLcT4NPmcYSKGxzm9HiRWtoywF0OgmaqrjX33S4mk2g0Hc80glpHuy417K97AAuGQOoYi7D6E32roRXqb1lDv6Gn-OKFIaxsVzbxVsyKmMp4JHYb0SxElLuksyqAnnUZZvP/s320/watermelon+picking+010.jpg" border="0" />Consequently, we decided that the kids could ride with him and the older women could ride in mom’s car. <div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337680032040633938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JBsiiliAaHkyumoRDdxQnT58uRGEWIyAf6C236NYriSE31eoFLPf_QV0TV_vSuVv_-ISLImzLdQWjxXZPufmMNnK4xYoJV7MAG_Zrp3bg2i7blQ3dJlYqdrPOgkRQ55uQ6F7so0_jcTd/s320/watermelon+picking+008.jpg" border="0" />Even the dogs loaded up for the adventure to the watermelon patch. Each time the truck would stop another dog would jump in and sometimes one would jump out. <div> </div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337682421341207762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1dboaqLdN8b1BHnLvy5-lO-uKXf6hZSQ_kbUiILwT5-cLU9N1fCInWh47zugkSBv1Rcrfb_SntI6WXQWxjKXa65ZC0_5ZzspeV6CItooSsPZVNkU0wzHydZRBUmn6FGC1iWompMH7C_Ou/s320/watermelon+picking+013.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />When we arrived at the patch the children bailed out like clowns out of a circus beetle bug. Dad cranked the irrigation motor.<br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337682444422409410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPJXiC90LD9L_S_g2khG_cVPQD-lcIFXpRl9gfiCpad6UvIRKgwUI5HQQ4dcmmrmwkPjGY1tZZI5I3xnvHO552-WSHlcbFBhpv_Lnod_cuCSWBp530TXQoFxZIwPfJsMdTqTZUclyCM5ZT/s320/watermelon+picking+029.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div>Waiting for the motor to gain rigor, dad and the grand kids walked through the corn field. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337682441985470194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KUGBfAHTFhCUpkZ-UqCMBDeD-SEDkojZlB5Se2uxmHNoCWv6bmMrQ0-5aN_hOd_00XQ1EWZK_t2sT1WEiad_jk0OZ9nhAzsYZgue15nDBFt_iYVtJazApObTmXaE3ne_pnAN8Y-IEeM2/s320/watermelon+picking+021.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Papa talked to Katie about his corn crop. He explained to Katie that the planter skipped the two middle rows… which in the end will affect his yield. I hate that, because I love to mix field corn with my sweet for the best cream corn ever.<br /><br />Finally it was time to hunt for a ripe melon.</div><div> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337684969457633026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixIIkXLZNkIm70i7SCw2_2kgbWSBXLxyjtwpIRYbiW59QjUZhRn6-9cD5Rb6ptsGp-SH3rtCR6ep4HhgAClKKGuLqLX-w8JomAd-Uh4AivNqbmZ-l-SgNSAkPbNNZyGWAXzfOxc6TNZGz4/s320/watermelon+picking+031.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Even though dusk was on us, dad had a flashlight to help illuminate the way. Charlee and Papa found what they thought could be a ripe juicy melon.</div><div> </div><div> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337684975764826194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHdyWwAYjKRf3LdlSFCGXSs9hd7dDPlp3AbWKHnX05ehGovuwG1rt3VpgxIdb0v3HKt9zgy1n5Fz6fflnXcy-vMd3tRV37XirZWaparN5MfYUqoj2LcNER2fJReFtfMXOSjPmUOVPQchY/s320/watermelon+picking+034.jpg" border="0" />All the kids, 7 to be exact, plus 3 dogs and 1 older woman (me) hovered over waiting the first taste of summer.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337690105574717330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsPl5Cyp0AnycO6saFoEzvXIzBLNrpG3EvSqQb2eID8F_KaWYQIpPCFKDqy37hJ_CY3GRSdSNBhhioTEKqodXtCszYGzrry2jCULL6nZYcHQ0Cgk1Yw84zEg8jzRrjJc-ASEU0IRC2bwV/s320/watermelon+picking+052.jpg" border="0" /> Daddy carefully cut the melon as mouths started to water. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337684981210215762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8AmcXp7h7opX7S3tXipmcccaT4YwZA-8ZoTVRElQnV7fDAePDg-anwl77uUTL3uRsydy21jy-IuzkR7YLtujYzwrtvTelCNwmCDpNpbZu6uomZKp29VGIkZjpz7cnLWDqbE1_lFvCjXV/s320/watermelon+picking+039.jpg" border="0" />The moment had finally arrived; dad cut a small piece of the heart for Charlee, and the other kids.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337684984908898082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKIVFFHQF9Do9JCh6zMaEy9gFuI5AFYFCQoAPYBgIhBgQ0ZgNQ8xF2ruppbJBkAXqQ8FJGVRLqy9yXl5OJaYqWCV9zbQ0kAQd_K7rw6U8MI1j3pN-0kwfuEYoO5-YePCeciOBaty-OSeH/s320/watermelon+picking+041.jpg" border="0" /> </div><div> </div><div>The kids took a bite out of their slightly pink, crunchy slice of watermelon.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337684984411837666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44xkwk3Tr7-X5zpq6WVTxfOeqcBskptjrsNF2rlrZ5ZKzA2EhFW1WHLUp6-1Q6l9ZBYZHl-xwxq6feYv8F3UZe82dEKm3EqcbZ87s2IpQarpniLtX9wW4-4MUHnG9mRSM2RVvxcWm1hQo/s320/watermelon+picking+053.jpg" border="0" /> Some mouths thought they were eating manna from heaven while others--- well didn’t care much for the bitter sweet delight.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337686426137932658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwd5fqCKSXHRzQ4dXLSJAukvfMUyqkYT70VomZxsW9jTKIr5gaYLM41GgsBJbqmaDwH4uhMxjfKmsweM18iVlIfdz1piZmammAx-29v0A8mh_EI_vuBfAKcbcRn-f02HF240tU52cK0N9/s320/watermelon+picking+047.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Needless to say the melons still need a few more days in the hot sun to ripen and get a little juicier. Hopefully, next Monday we’ll have red juicy melons.<br />Tuesday, I noticed another sign of summer---blackberries.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337687205542729586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UQpdpQGI_fYLa3EPiTL3H_g_kidaQebRNGsMbdLTmx9NaPXH7t8JtCCs_45Df0Spg0Ak7qTvQoGoTxbY-Fj9kjMoLa1cWRq0dXCxsPJxJqhhZT8zZZ22AOolxLTiPVFkVxSFe86iozh4/s320/watermelon+picking+058.jpg" border="0" />Now every afternoon, we have to stop along our driveway to pick blackberries. </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337687207358330226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZD9astDevp-Zwr6-LCVO763FYdg08fByObJHmUiIZEJXT2WG50hz__RhVUpQrBQMWdCKINEzzS9kTv_Q7v5W3xhgpjnvT3-hAhXKkL7jsPQy2T0SlLjVJPPIks_3-XRVB0Am54z2Zyjbz/s320/watermelon+picking+059.jpg" border="0" />Saturday, Grandma prayed asking for rain to help the blackberries grow so Charlee and she could make a clobber.<br /><div><div><br /><div><br /><div>Here are some other pictures taken at Meme and Papa’s. The big kids decide to race on their bikes to the second cattle gap. Miss Charlee thought she would go too, only she had a little problem. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337688392917365058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5qFi0TpQHOgPWXJ6ZrgU2VHntzIhnySWdT6nk5ZCPjSDg8DrerO21ProEGuSchYRK84M_cA5gISxEMNSHV9w-ZC08eYDWXEbsnXuVFkZ0DC65gRfpxYp2_-KzmYk2DBO1hy-jneEtzq-/s320/watermelon+picking+002.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />She took it upon herself to walk through the cow pasture (where a bull who likes to play tag lives also. As I was washing dishes I noticed a speck<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337688399432798290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHE3nkTbDy-jVW7Lw1HBpJx3t_Ez_EzfSInLW0UyZokHFMRrJBQD-oC-uplNmM34-nWiGcR4hnpNcWA5q8NbNM4srY6r1LsF02ZOCq0nfxsSuI2wesRY-Z87VYA7dOA9Ogq9NsjseVakEl/s320/watermelon+picking+003.jpg" border="0" /> --- All the kids made it safely back in the yard. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-10620315966561986492009-05-10T18:10:00.000-07:002009-05-10T19:30:58.214-07:00Charlee Ann and the Stupid Smelly Bus<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"></span><br /><br /> </div><div>Charlee has a new favorite book… Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus. At night, she tells me that we need to read Junie B. so she can learn how to be a kindergartener. I have quickly learned that we do not need to check out another Junie B book. We have heard words like stupid, dumb, and other phrases not spoken at our home. Needless to say, we won’t be reading any more of them.<br /><br />This week was our first bite into kindergarten. Due to my involvement in orientation, Big Daddy (that’s what Katie and I call Steven) had to attend with Charlee. The last thing I said to Sleeping Steven before I left was “I am not exactly sure what time it starts but I’d be there around 8:30 or a little after.” Truthfully, this was my ploy to get Steven to spend his money on Charlee some books at the book fair instead of me.<br /><br />I arrived at work much earlier than normal. I went to the library checked in with Marsha and headed to my office to read emails and make the materials I needed for the orientation.<br /><br />Clearly, in my mind thinking this shing-ding started at 9. At 8:45 the phone rings…the secretary on the other end says where are you? You are supposed to be at the lunchroom. Get over here NOW. I immediately gathered my junk and ran to the lunchroom. I thought maybe I could sneak in, but those dang loud fly blowers alerted everyone that I had finally made it to the meeting. The crowd then focused their attention on the reading coach, who may know a little about reading but apparently nothing about telling time. I scanned the room frantically looking for Big Daddy and the Princess. They were no where in site. I tried to tiptoe as quietly as my clonking heels would let me to the back of the group. Still wondering where they were. Wendy, the Director of Elem, came over and explained that the principal had already introduced me and that she would redo the intro and then I could speak to the crowd.<br /><br />It was my time to address the anxious parents and children. I scrambled for words while everyone in the room, listened as offered my future services to them. Okay I lied …I explained that like them, I too had a child starting kindergarten and another that would be a senior next year. I know some of the folks were wondering what drugs I was taking and if their kids would be safe around a lunatic reading coach. As fast as an auctioneer, I said what had to be said and sat down.<br /><br />It was dang near 9 and Steven and Charlee still had not arrived. At first, I kinda thought maybe they were browsing the book fair. I slipped into the teacher’s lounge and called Marsha –no sign of them. I am on the other side worried…like near panic. I know the booger that Charlee is in the morning, so maybe she just threw a fit and Steven just said forget it.<br /><br />The group was dismissed for the BIG bus ride; I knew this would be Charlee’s favorite part. I called Steven’s cell again. This time he answers. He is in the front office. I tell him to just meet us at the end of the bus loop so Charlee would not miss the bus ride. I explain to the ever so very nice bus driver that my husband and child needed special treatment, would she mind if we picked them up at the other end. Thank the Lord I work for the school. She agreed.<br /><br />Finally, I can see Steven and Charlee strutting down the sidewalk like a momma hen with her little chick following closely behind. The bus approached the end of the walk--- no Steven. When the bus rolled to a stop, I crawled off the bus almost beyond the point of humiliation. I noticed Steven and Charlee were headed back to office. The gate was locked and he had turned around. I hollered to come down to the other end of the prison gates that encircles our school. By the time I was reunited with my honey, I noticed a slight sign of disgust in his normally twinkling eyes. However, I wasn’t sure why on such a stress free day he could be aggravated. He whispered “You didn’t tell me that I need my licenses”. I didn’t think anything about it but thought to myself this is just a normal every day adventure for me. </div><div> </div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334371818199449330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFNk45hH2qhMttGF2HjolVqz6s03WB1JHDAGHeKB_TUl5Jve9r5Ddrc_Z05pdkOcN2Otxy5JXSpPRoJpTBEcTHDgP5lhYCuH6RTqXqvv3eRb8s1F5infnASdz0Zs0XF1DaUi9eqry3xn8/s320/100_0110%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><br />We found seats in the very back of the bus and assumed we were going on a nice bus ride, when the bus driver turned off the bus. Immediately, I thought gosh now what. She gave the young unconcerned bus riders a quick bus etiquette lesson. Then she restarted the bus and off we went. The little girls in the back of the bus giggled and had a great time. Charlee sat motionless the entire bus ride. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334382938344003298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgFdIqM9smd-PR4gCWBiZoIcCiiZMgKIfNEiJ77PERBiK94jVYuFvoLnuzylrpftbZDNZawRB9yzBsfppBTNuDtTom4YE-vrK5plhAEaXn3m_8qFY8QrBVU27uzqXnCFQpfDf9Y7GexMh/s320/100_0116%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><br />Back at the school, we toured all the seven kindergarten classes. Although, I have walked through these doors hundreds of times, it seemed as though it was the first. Charlee’s eyes danced with excitement, but held a look of uncertainty as she peeked into her future at the BIG school. She examined artwork,<br /><br />climbed into reading loft with Ms Jean,<br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334371823424209026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJgjffAWjxpTxbrL0KIkBK5LdnZ30aMyUEVIMEm6qQiAjWKFD7AQl5gx7msFwknfTVPS5k8Rpl0637MGi_Bkjs1r-GBAS-Tywa18TfWEZDL7hhvdC_3NT2slj5CRdGHaGGo_GUhZkyp_Bg/s320/100_0120%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><br />talked with Annie the puppet in Mrs. Perryman’s class and looked at the plethora of books in her library, <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334382005194637842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJM95lScN8RquJf8aLPtnIQxyIuHmmT4ejgzhlP21p3AYBvb3W0GEnxgPXLkJ4XUL_S6cDZD4yhEGg_qxEbe1G7vnVHx5mep0dIlJQEoX9dh_uXH1rLEAmrGpyAd1HZO2i3dSoraxw-jv/s320/100_0128%5B1%5D" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334382013590346354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhKkGyJZ6HEsdyPZrnsOdXjP3hfVy2WhaXlfkuZqhwOQkzfu04-b7MRJ6bMoSNOMxuK134fOUrvyT6N4xKY9870Zl8j9j8v0542y9b4PEpjuZmLUhjlX3Cz01cPwBioDmLV8H5n3Md8my/s320/100_0129%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><br />and she reunited with old friends in Mrs. Smithers and Mrs. Welbers' rooms .<br /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334371824122444802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-L41XnTSLKN2yXFrhurQlZD10X-v84he1NnIn_FnztQyF-cWSBkRKJvva6TB9szuS30chjc5vzJAVLxkVO_ItNFHmTnHK-uJLgaG2HeWyjYo32Y-phGa7ovlrt9xvTVtc2qVOp1_3LpP/s320/100_0121%5B1%5D" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334371831067837666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuqWPXLSOc_lgYbWBx24lTc1l4o0224psWyVDZC1VkTgu6iS8TKZpJgjACWDWCRONKrd7PNWPQe_YKI-vhrGK4jwD0rQoA9LUA0yvpK4wQ9sB76y5mNc_j-qHVpwSqHqDcteCm5hW8uz1/s320/100_0124%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><br />After the room tours, it was time to say good bye to all the great teachers we had meet. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334383473163072882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY6zxAi5HbCpXH4P5XbzTCbF5lBUr2hzvQIXEdPlDNAXADY2qZ-8SU6BQxFUp0xVincO6so_0PDAiQbDk0ajIidNQQiziK43_LLalefDIATXGAtjKThhHHCyX04nO2kkNigYbqv3gNcxy/s320/100_0118%5B1%5D" border="0" />We meandered over to the book fair. Of course, Charlee wanted everything. She had a Junie B. book, Wow Wow Wuzzybe, Beginning reader books, you name it, Charlee clutched it tight in her arms. Dad said one book. Charlee returned all of the books but 3 properly on the correct shelf. Determined to increase her library at home, she was adamant on all of them. Dad was just as adamant…. she walked away with the Wow Wow Wuzzybe. (Little does dad know, that we have a stack of books stashed away to purchase later). As we were talking in the library Charlee noticed an old friend walking by. She rushed to the door and hollered RONDA …..RONDA. Unfortunately, her dear friend was on her cell and did not hear her little buddy. However, later on Charlee had the chance to join up with Mrs. Parrish at the teacher appreciation luncheon. Charlee embraced her and talked to her as though they were old playground friends. I apologized for Charlee calling her by her first name but Ronda quickly stated that they were pals and it was okay.<br /><br />Later in the day, I walked through the front office when the school secretary stopped me. Mrs. Coates asked me to please give her apologizes to Steven. I gave her a funny look and questioned why. She retold about the morning episode that occurred as Steven tried to enter our campus (note close to 8:30). She explained that she knew that he was my husband, but according to our new policy, all visitors must have their driver’s license scanned to determine if they are a risk to our students. When she scanned his license, the screen signaled that Steven maybe a potential threat or sexual offender. She had to verify that he wasn’t a predator and that he was indeed safe to be near small children. I know what some of you might be thinking to yourself….yeah small children aren’t safe around him. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Long story short, we survived the orientation and Steven’s name has been cleared. I hope the other 180 aren't as adventurous as the orientation. If so, I may need meds. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-2882866426337729022009-05-03T15:43:00.000-07:002009-05-03T16:16:39.213-07:00Why I love Mondays<div><div><div><div><br /><br /><br /><div>I love Mondays.....Well..... not really I love Monday Nights. Like most of my dad’s family, we are not early morning folks. We like to lie in bed as long as humanly possible. This is most evident on Mondays. However, the morning is worth the night.<br /><br />Several years ago, my precious Uncle Jack was fighting an unmerciful battle with cancer. To offer relieve to his family, my sister and I offered to cook for them one night a week. To begin with we cooked on Thursday nights. He only missed two meals at the house. We would prepare the meals at Mom and Dad’s, around supper time, they would drive out to the farm. The farm was one of Uncle Jack’s favorite places. Maybe it is because of similarity and closeness of his and daddy’s family farm which is just across the fields. He loved to see the watermelons growing, the grass turning green, new calves prancing and playing, the sunsets, feeling breeze on the porch while he swung or perhaps it was just spending time with his best friend—my dad.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331732874880959266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57FW4Shn_dRzy7T6e-Cevkw600rzt-DtL1oCOIviBGQvwuqFuKfvFp1wvl14YPi4fnuacUwCVhpKqfcfWEJGNckG3-QpQ9nSISCQNOOQxg-G9957TkHIEKAKo3bFOCW7db_I88sV3WNlW/s320/100_0065%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br />Even though Uncle Jack passed away a couple of years ago, we have kept up the tradition only it has moved to Monday nights. Occasionally, Uncle Jack’s sweet wife joins us. She enjoys the rowdy company and tons of conversions, usually going on at one time. We absolutely love to entertain at mom and dads. So any Monday, you are in the neighborhood stop by…I am sure we’ll have plenty. We love sharing stories and a meal with friends and family. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331733256056010706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynLa4QNA3uAQmaWyMBxKOiJnl3yBUfzV6CU_s8Nb3wiVDXRJhIoP6nUsNU-Yk-Ct2RzqWSgvVJ-gq1OgkpIlzYo9XOVDYJ0DPgZ_TJnnZ2L6Nt-h8H7Bj5MnWRg9Rtmup2E1LDM5CAPXY/s320/100_0068%5B1%5D" border="0" /></div><div>Spring time meals are the best. I love all the garden fresh vegetables. However, be care full not <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00">to</span> eat too many. My long time best friend's EX had a few too many fresh veggies and needless to say they stopped at several undesignated rest stops between here and Belleview. HAHAHAHAHAHA...</div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331734549198899682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2ohJfiP3pkxaalBVlLR-u7Z06rTjEiaFqiE6o6ZCk9YK_Zn88bIdhg3FVnqtehb63ZweYaUxyiZrEb-O71K0OSgyypmjTrXT4Jv_DFb7-p9FhtbeOnT34643gVT2Ep7WjfmHu3w_K0_C/s320/100_0080%5B1%5D" border="0" /></div></div></div></div><br /><p>Katie has piano lesson on Monday afternoons . While she is at piano. Angela and I cook. I think Quin will be our next piano player. </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331733660207913634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJphX5y_2_a2UginptQWbMWdT3LoJhehEQ3qP8jbmiqh80Q2AE9DVu0abRuoCmmQVL4VmlHv8L02bTLryPikNgKIrwmTw2vSXB0UCT8UXUqKxgV85UnvieuXT6SQ9svcqT1faKBRdrb3A/s320/100_0073%5B1%5D" border="0" /></p><p>My oldest brother Kelley and his wife Melanie enjoying the Monday feast. </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331734126623138402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfrEYiu3fzz3EeTRUIcWKDE_fI9d-2gdxXknOi3YE-jlAQ8YlVBxwvCjItg3Bw6pcyok9QSDE_egi5Pkd8IKnvHD-yuqZdOKpLEuirdooFPRTZLuESQYkp4BAW76ABu-asi27BLEWKLSF/s320/100_0077%5B1%5D" border="0" /></p><p>Katie and Tyler love to pick and play with Uncle Zane. He is usually the pun of their jokes. He just laughs and takes it all with stride. ( PS He needs a good woman if any of you know anyone) </p><p> </p><p>As you can see, Monday nights are a barrel of fun. This is a great family tradition that I hope continues for a long time. Stop by ... Supper is on the stove. And laughter and good times are waiting for you in the dining room. I'll almost bet you that my bunch will be in the middle of some sort of adventure.</p><p> </p>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-83606277569494914852009-05-03T14:39:00.000-07:002009-05-03T15:19:16.240-07:00Watch out Claires, Here We Come<div><br />The first Friday of every month you can find the girls and me at our beauty Salon. In December, I make all of my appointments for the upcoming year. At almost all of those appointments, we go through the same routine.We arrive close to 4:30. Sometimes we wait and other times, Kim is ready for us as soon as we walk in the door. Lately, I have surprised Kim and have been on time if not early (yeah for me).</div><br /><br /><div>I am usually the first one in the chair. Usually I just get a trim since I am there once a month. Every other month, thank God, I get much needed highlights to cover the ever so increasing gray hair. I keep reminding myself, that in the Bible it is considered a sign of wisdom—well in my case, I wouldn’t call it wisdom.</div><br /><br /><div>Since the poor child was an infant, Charlee has regularly gotten her hair cut too. Sometimes it’s bangs only. If she is in a great mood, we’ll stack her hair in the back. If you she her regularly you know that doesn’t happen to terrible often. Don't get me wrong she loves Ms. Kim. One of her favorite things to do is imitate Ms Kim. She loves to curl and style Granny Sheffield and Grandma's Annette's hair. I usually opt out. </div><br /><br /><div>While I am getting all re-beautified with the hair, Katie searches book after book, in which she looked through last month, hoping to find a new do. She jumps in the chair and typically goes with the same style. After the cut, she gets her eyebrows waxed and we’re gone.</div><br /><br /><div>However, this story is missing one key element. The adventure of getting Charlee’s ears pierced. Each month, we go through the same ordeal. She drills Kim about getting her ears pierced. Did Braley get hers done here? What about Harley did you do hers? Does it hurt? Will you do mine? So dear sweet Kim starts the process—loads the gun, cleans the earrings with alcohol, dots the ears with permanent maker and then Charlee chickens out. Once we had two guns loaded and ready for battle. Occasionally, one of the manicurist would apply stickers used for nails to Charlee’s ears. She’d walk out and act as though she had actually gotten her ears pierced. Literally this has gone on for almost a year--- <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">NO LIE. </span></strong></div><br /><br /><div>She have donned sticker earring as though they were priceless diamonds. She has flashed her permanent marker dots as if she was a jewelry model. I am not kidding ask Shelia and Maxie Clark. At a football game, I sat talking with the Clark family, Charlee strolled up and asked Ms. Shelia is she’d seen her new earrings. Charlee peeled back her hair to flash her fancy earrings for all to see. Maxie looked over and admired and ooh-ed and ah-ed at her beautiful earrings. After Charlee prissed away, he asked if they were Blue Sapphires. I busted out in the biggest laugh…. “No Maxie that would be permanent maker”. He was rather puzzled and I explained her monthly trip to the beauty shop. They chuckled each time Charlee paraded up and down the bleachers. </div><br /><br /><div>Not this FRIDAY. As Kate was getting her monthly waxing, Charlee crawled up in my lap observing every move Kim made. Inquiring about whether it hurt Katie, why she was doing this and that…then boom “Can I get the sticker earrings”. Kim explained that the lady with the stickers no longer worked there. Then out of no where came ….I want to get my ears pierced if I can sit in momma’s lap.</div><br /><br /><div>Not too shocked by the words spilling from her mouth no one was alarmed. We’d been down this road before. However, this time she was a little less hesitant. We moved back across the salon. from the washing sink to Kim's chair. Kim loaded the gun for the 100th time. Charlee asked if it would hurt. Everyone in the building was encouraging her that it would not hurt. Kim said let me see your ear and…. POW…. One ear down. Immediately Charlee let out a shriek and looked and Kim and through sobbing words said “I think you did something wrong-- <em>it hurt</em>. We all snickered. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331718766066713890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnzVWSH83lj_ic2cFRLbfbt0m-nYzwE0PU3wrLXfWn_zjIuWZZngKOE_MsA3foZmyEuJ7ZWViSkysdQBW6ma_nOy5K4ZXJdfrO6a_OEG1oFJhGniUQzFXMLFJRDdqzp_pDO2vkv4dxyF1/s320/100_0088%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>One left to go. Kim scrambled around and we all started cheering Charlee on again---I just knew we were going to be leaving with 1 earring. Somehow or another Kim got the other one with out to much chaos. Thank the Lord---I don’t know how I would explain that to Steven. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331718303139277266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRXgd-rKmCb8a66K3y33OXm3yXXfpaDthDVYIWOhnentSIgUj4scGjCOShAEK8m_AQbf9O0ORBL8aHDSs_5Q0Ta7yqbw315uvcPREqx_QKDhccPdjmLyiL37RX8CqPoOGIm-EFTRW8T9Y/s320/100_0085%5B1%5D" border="0" /></div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-81763509586306293902009-05-01T20:27:00.001-07:002009-05-01T21:32:39.581-07:00Read a Book. Who Me?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1bHoZY4p06ScvIFG7gthLXwQCaWCuCKxvW40CjX4_2xu-RGb4w9zuCA9VyUGQCJ6OLOBkLGSELkTGZ-tjJAH4qB75Trz-elxe5nhuW-PyXjJX0KIPGjehCLiiC301IeQxw_JnXfAe4tvy/s1600-h/copy.gif"></a><br /><div>Last week while mom was having knee replacement surgery, Angela and I ran to the book store so I could get a book (duh) to read while I stayed with mom. I am not much of a reader. I have so much required professional reading with my job that I seldom pick a up book that requires much thought process. I happened to notice on one of the display table several religious books, when my eyes spotted my favorite TV family--- the Gosselin Family. </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://www.sixgosselins.com/">http://www.sixgosselins.com/</a></div><div> </div><div><br /><br />I immediately grabbed it up as though it was the last one in town. As soon as we arrived back at the waiting area I started reading --- I could not put the dang thing down. I read how Jon and Kate met. I was engrossed as I read about their difficulties conceiving and the joys of raising a set of twins and later on sextuplets. The most amazing aspect is the praise they give to God for what he has done, is doing and going to do for the Gosselin Family. Kate gives countless accounts of how their faith in GOD pulled them through. She told how what seemed to be the bleakest points, blessings would overflow.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br />Needless to say, the book was a life preserver during the long stays at the hospital last week. In numerous ways, I found that Kate and I could be best friends. I think, if you read Multiple Blessings, you too will see things about her that will make you appreciate and love her. Personally I wish she <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00">l</span>ived next door.<br /></div><div> </div><div>If you have some spare time, pick one up. It’s an easy read—you will be blessed. I know I was.<br /><br /><br />Oh, by the way, I have a couple who I’d like for you to pray for. I don’t want to publicize their names but the Lord knows them. She and her husband have had difficulty conceiving. I told the would-be grandma after reading Multiple Blessings, I was praying they’d have quadruplets one for each grandparent, one for mom, and one for dad. Then everyday at 4, I would be there for afternoon feedings and diaper changes. Grandma laughed, but I didn’t. I know the power of PRAYER. </div><div> </div><div>Seriously though, twins would be nice, but if you don’t mind lift this couple up. They would be outstanding Christian parents and have a whole world to offer a child. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451293605571042160.post-38757511791688831792009-04-27T06:46:00.000-07:002009-04-27T07:31:08.599-07:00Cowboys and Carpenter<div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><br /><div>The last couple of weeks, the Hines Cattle Company men weren’t only busy working cows but also re-roofing my in- law’s house. My brother Zane asked me how they knew how to build things, did somebody have training? My reply was they were just a very talented bunch of men. It truly amazes me that there is almost nothing these men can’t do. I guess this intrigued him because my family has trouble changing out a sink faucet. My dad and brothers are outstanding farmers but definitely not handymen. My dad grows the most beautiful and tastiest field of watermelons. And his garden is so bountiful that he offers his garden to several families at his church, not to mention me :~). During the summer, occasionally his vegetables are served at Wednesday night suppers at his church (about 200 folks). He is the best dirt farmer I know.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Back to the Hines men….they worked cows from daylight to dark—7 days straight, taking only Sunday off to worship and rest. Even then, Steven had some loose ends to tie up. This week they are putting a new roof on one of the other houses in the family. Personally, I think since they are in the building mood..... they should start me a house. Don’t you agree?</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Steven had asked me to take some candid shots in the cow pens, but I didn’t get home in time to catch the cowboys in cowboy action. We regret that we did not take more pictures in the past. As many of you have experienced, we are not promised tomorrow with our loved ones and friends. Unfortunately almost 5 years ago, our smiling cowboy and his wife were taken from us in a tragic car accident in which a drunk driver hit them. Since then, I try to take more pictures of the men (and my daddy) around the farms. Here are a few pictures of the cowboys turned carpenters.</div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329370678922614610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglm27w1qJDd4UzZ8QZ2Wv4oGzUFsHOVPvDNLP4rk0B6lH8QjfWm38bNTl4qG0goJUt7bTAYc3jCyPrnZMwxBJ4L3_EhUCUJZ1Pga0-6wi2pjDc5r-Qu_BTUIeTtTAI-CXxaIhOLG-8YLvF/s320/2009+working+calves+008.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329370679342854450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5lfr-YicEoJl3tjmrS_3i7qs9wNpRFu56_p8LdKEueaXgTcwbI90tpeJxmUl02_TNPmt7GgEpW5r61qz21FbSZwCg-Xw2rcFBtX84bYyg60Z8eaKY5WNHhaJz-1kXf0Mq4mw8JDGb6uit/s320/2009+working+calves+041.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329370672831676802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5nc-8lPYOoeor7zSCCxwdN0ljy1cM_wEDgWjPswpgAHQ1cuIy-fMvf59cCBqyxdC_pheyJQ5ZVnF2vm2TgiVE2bdFdnS24eIIP77ly3kiwCVgh6TA74YUmMcdFT1aU84n_sPqb2rsftP/s320/2009+working+calves+031.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329368929214297922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMiatDeAIWUtZdYAOjcRJVwqZddDWAAoVZdzwihAZrNII6FM9-K7mx_yYCHMhVbd8QCmgnHqQ_I_8Ruoght7QdkCtTbpXy3d82wAF7Z08vo-zzYpvawgo1mfLTQxuHgEzZGbbaQLV0w6X/s320/2009+working+calves+027.jpg" border="0" /></p></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329373185746902242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPedXo1216GNq_BEGe60s1QUuAeI2wWD8RSgxKBCDuCk8oUxUD7usGMwUTBN4jWQs-tVaMyt47zkSZ5SXLMDucJu8ifvVNa80TGQHKsaEFBzk24StegxxouZT12cJVDggvzrX4Xp-PK6kS/s320/46610018.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329373186376072210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRAVfxrzgq-sFN7V_lR9gMHOtP-QE-EVgs94GEsjZ5ZIQazMabAym3LViuZ_Yc-sbih1Ubsm6iBU3zlH5pPbpXb6DSNpsq5whp6anVJcp3_0-f6K8cPA4nTQX3YWdcHa0Tk9XWchR7Ejm/s320/46610017.jpg" border="0" />After previewing these pictures, I notice that only a few men are working and a few men are directing. Maybe if everybody worked, then they would have finished a little sooner. That's the difference in women -- everybody works so we can get to visiting and enjoying the company. Seriously, the men are very hard workers. </p><p> </p><p> </p>Aunt Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03993963868141899649noreply@blogger.com4