tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52262857973424084222024-02-07T06:40:33.342-06:00Take 90 West<img src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/take90westheaderoption2copy.jpg">Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-16891041775977456732008-02-14T00:47:00.003-06:002008-02-14T00:52:06.186-06:00I've Got My Move On<a title="big bloggy move2 by christyofwoc, on Flickr" href="http://afteracupofcoffee.blogspot.com/2007/12/big-bloggy-move_19.html"><img height="240" alt="big bloggy move2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2158/2122309820_c0ed6222a1_m.jpg" width="171" /></a><br /><br /><div align="left">I don't blog here anymore.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">So please, come visit me at my new site;</div><div align="center"></div><div align="left"><a href="http://www.take90west.com/">http://www.take90west.com/</a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">Go there. Now! Please?<br /><br /><br /></div><p></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-82982683030410516002008-02-03T22:33:00.000-06:002008-02-03T22:41:16.607-06:00Because it would just be too easy if everyone smiled.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162979491359629378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfO88N8m65W-R7XEI-cMQ3TqFMUvfOVLa3b2LLM15NHA3_I23yORFtaCMCx9797ga92KDJu1YwFxtFSEKLOrLVvqKxqYupBzduOmBxtfXq_rnzVSc65ZwJwvrJnvjEjIhuq32L0J76zq4/s400/FL040015.jpg" border="0" />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-89728283497086096842008-02-01T21:41:00.000-06:002008-02-01T21:53:40.372-06:00Trusty Random.org has spoken!<p>And the winner of the Bloggy Giveaway is...</p><p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/12354767625380193012">jhebein</a>, lucky number 45!</p><p>I'm going to send you a quick email right now and then the<a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-giveaway-today.html"> Marley book and the lavender goodies </a>will be on their way to you!</p><p> </p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-34287282374828512102008-02-01T00:28:00.000-06:002008-02-01T09:07:24.481-06:00Excuse me while I have myself a Martha moment.<div align="center">I don't know what has gotten in to me.<br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161897829615935506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiU0YBqiqXwIWF4MKKzd8ghFmRZ05jcUbbBWfRGJ5uwGcfty0RJRco2smh7jysmaplzmISL26AN7cCqhxe36l-1jFbaEhrn3uhyq2DHo10gHxzVZZ4PynbGR7lYmlUAqDHf0q7Qjfg9X8/s400/martha-stewart.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><p align="center">I have a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter.</p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161864290216321010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRHfmAetHEfOuiWvEkt2Xbyoaw4pRhidWdhhWyFP9xvl5A7Wci6bTGtyWdolSjyTP9BGnO9Gy7dFqpC7rT7BbXCv7arvIDOvm6BbSOgAmHjzVjJUar9rp47tTUhc-Xc9hZdhIcYdlku2o/s400/FL000011.jpg" border="0" /> </p><div align="center">I made homemade chocolate chip cookies.</div><p align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL8pr7U61E55CfrW04DcoJsHN_aO091kMzr6LYoCKp8_F0OLgnfYviFyR2sC9JZapjsGuMhyphenhyphen9gQ92F5Vb31lreO-214uQuMJvaOlKBq4QhA_BTiYcNPkt2y1lb6wQTYMAZm1hoJqFRWT0/s1600-h/FL000009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161864187137105890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL8pr7U61E55CfrW04DcoJsHN_aO091kMzr6LYoCKp8_F0OLgnfYviFyR2sC9JZapjsGuMhyphenhyphen9gQ92F5Vb31lreO-214uQuMJvaOlKBq4QhA_BTiYcNPkt2y1lb6wQTYMAZm1hoJqFRWT0/s400/FL000009.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />It is amazing the things I have time to do around here when I am not posting on the ol' blawg. Or reading and commenting on other blogs. Or looking for new blogs to enjoy. Or deciding what to do about the future of this blog.<br /></p><div align="center">Yes, that's right, <em>the future</em> of this blog. I am stressed right now about all things blog related. I am working on a switch to a different platform, and I know even less about computers and code and metas and propogating and servers and everything else, than I had tricked myself into thinking I did. </div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">And on top of all of that, some of the stress is coming from the fact that I cannot believe I have acutally stuck with this blogging thing for six months. I don't stick with anything that long. I am the queen of quitting things because I didn't think things through first. I have at least a dozen journals with one or two pages written in them. Because that's what I do...I start things with the best of intentions and then I don't finish them. Yet, here I am putting out the inner workings of my brain for anyone to read.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">The thing is...this blogging thing? I enjoy it. I enjoy looking back through the archives and reading about what was on my mind at the time. I want to continue, to stick with something and be <em>good </em>at something. And the only way to become a better writer is to keep on writing. The only way to be able to keep on enjoying looking back on my archives, is to keep on writing them. The only way to record my thoughts about life and the kids right now is for me to keep on putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">I'm afraid if I quit my blog, I could wind up with the same fate as Britney, locked in mental ward because the thoughts, they could not get out. I'm also not sure I'd look great in a pink wig.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">Oh, what would Martha do? Because she makes it all look so easy. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161896850363392002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRX2msTlk6dHuySAqEFKMJnlBRFnJS3dArW6T-RniTDJ-rvgzgaHFQnsFmIE6vnsVF1bpnAy34r3lns-TCrGTu_TZgS4oMtq0OHkFzEopG_W2MdDmO2K0nKNzxezMSvO6xMGGz4L1OMws/s400/martha_title_012408e.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">Have you ever had any thoughts of giving up your blog?</div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-73919526114883131572008-01-30T00:17:00.000-06:002008-01-29T22:29:58.918-06:00Wordless Wednesday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNi9YU2v6xOMnR_4UYgJtzwVt7AlxgyF6iu7K5z7YtzvMKvqfwSgNNnIEm9avApiWNOx-2Dkb7lwgYLlH6kSG-U0lrQl9YHTS9zAj81Qasd9HS8LPf0BShfEi9Eg5YqEEkXVJ3eYCZ9qQ/s1600-h/FH030030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161119418333142994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNi9YU2v6xOMnR_4UYgJtzwVt7AlxgyF6iu7K5z7YtzvMKvqfwSgNNnIEm9avApiWNOx-2Dkb7lwgYLlH6kSG-U0lrQl9YHTS9zAj81Qasd9HS8LPf0BShfEi9Eg5YqEEkXVJ3eYCZ9qQ/s400/FH030030.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">Head first is not the way I taught her to go down the hill, but she likes to do things her own way.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-55418391012851886332008-01-29T00:36:00.000-06:002008-01-28T23:10:07.070-06:00Two little piggys went to the orthodontist. One little piggy went home to chew bubble gum and eat popcorn, and one little piggy could not.<div align="center"></div><div align="center">The giveaways have my fingers aching. But with a little luck, I'll be the lucky recipient of 7 home organizing books, 13 handmade purses or tote bags, 4 pairs of earrings, an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">iTunes</span> gift card, countless Amazon and Target gift cards, a handmade dress with a pinafore for my Gracie, a pendant or 6, 37 candles, 9 hand made bead bracelets, 24 Jan Karon books, 2 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wristlets</span>, a ton of chocolate, a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Backyardigans</span> DVD, an afghan, and a mp3 player shaped like, <em>I think</em>, a rock?</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">That's cool. I like rocks.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Maybe with my new rock shaped mp3 player and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">iTunes</span> gift card, I'll download the theme song from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Clapper">the Clapper</a>.<br /></div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160753104867434402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK8tiK0IitDqoEWTU2xi1DIoGLwZD2qsqb4YvRfhk1qOlJCOafHJnP7sV06t-hxwYd-_wXi1E99xrkbpN_E-zOy0YjRxhIKarnVquBziBqcNBz7GORN_Hq7e0yuJkZl9mX7_6um80r_aI/s400/FL000015.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">Clap On!<br /><br /></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160753298140962754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbpeS-XTcSeWPQXyLC9zYeXR0-074llCtTSruFqOzJ9mSKYQSH0d7nHDaccutiR9ht2y2IUY2E5xQzxkjsEpxQy9hYcqAbXZqSKO9tcvvZpcgzIsfrOoefu8n2wy2H098AJnTcWreEZQ/s400/FL000016.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center">Clap Off!</div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160753212241616818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3PUvbKWItTvRdfuyHjRF72AFtZ4WfeeDyjLulo8vBYx9UGTfiUA3mJBWuofvaGZdQxmlrAEetI7oeKjJkwv1py8E9rb9syBjW04tsxJJgJdz884qt8GkoGSR3h966FGSkCx55E9Cx7o/s400/FL000017.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center">The Clapper!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Yeah, you're totally gonna have Clap On! Clap Off! stuck in your head all day. Me too.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">You're welcome.</div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-26851376313356777102008-01-28T00:18:00.000-06:002008-02-01T21:29:33.711-06:00It's a Giveaway today!<div align="center"> </div><div align="center">*****Times's Up!*****</div><div align="center">Comments are closed, and I'll announce a winner shortly!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">There's a giveaway carnival going on today at <a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/reviews/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bloggy</span> Giveaways</a>. Thanks, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.rocksinmydryer.typepad.com">Shannon</a>!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Last week, I <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/lavender-you-cant-barbeque-it-boil-it.html">mentioned my fondness</a> for the scent of lavender. I don't wear a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">perfume</span>, and some days I don't even shower. And it is usually at the end of those non showered, pony-tail days, that I find myself in need of a warm bath before I crawl into bed.</div><p align="center">While I enjoy a nice bath, I usually don't have time for one. Most nights, after the kids are in bed, I am ready for bed myself. Or, I'm at least ready to sit down and watch <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.sixgosselins.com">Jon and Kate plus 8</a> so that I can take comfort in the fact that there is a mother out there who is indeed, more crabby than I am. But, crabby or not, when I do take the time to indulge in some time for myself, I feel so much better. </p><p align="center">A little lavender scent in my tub and some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">lavender</span> lotion on my so-very-dry winter skin helps me to really relax and have a good nights sleep. And who couldn't use a good nights sleep?</p><div align="center"></div><div align="center">So I'd like to pass along a little of that lavender relaxation to you.</div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160377432667987778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3PXGtECsT1jf2t_5a71FIspKzy2VIdIMTKzm4q5iW-BrHHUFApfjc0lt2-rnvJ9mmwXXyuhFyIBeH5qpB3Sui10SNFr8zs93GH4ZezhWUn8RtolG1xcm7ASBatyomhxVuTKs_AkIgKU/s400/FL000022.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160377561517006674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikl_URQJWGvnrccdE8DgxXhxjjx4DK8ovppXTX9iiobXy2LCEpEv84cHH1Dgno7JZp7Z7VVt9IuKl-oTLynBAAbDJoErTZj3qTz7sRgu8pByc_ZJbC1cq3-wwEo_07EAtcIwISEWIS4ak/s400/FL000021.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160377660301254498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAI9Vb9LU46BEWtzqxinXxojE1_rfAl8MpRyXC533oE1jjlMW2nvpHxjrFsXd4nCKBLMZnlWyz1P0vNe7ev0LDcWPfZuZgF1tLXzqCAXvht9E55ChMB7pkZIKX73MKt2Q1aHhGGUyFKLA/s400/FL000020.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center">I have for you, newly purchased, unopened bottles of lavender scented body wash and body lotion to give away. They are from Bath and Body Works' Aromatherapy line, and they smell great. Subtle, not overpowering, and clean.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">But, wait!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">There's one more thing.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I'm throwing in a book for you to read after you're all soaked, bathed and moisturized in lavender.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Because I love to crawl into bed with a good book.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I also love yellow Labs. Especially my new little yellow lab.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160377780560338802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL-xOGCQKdgcrcprikaSCxZOvvDIeORDf28XLafKEZVzPnEif0wms-3sHMcxe4EPl9b5ETi9e2zBgygOkasx_U9tj08UPNUXRSEcWJaavGq8XMKKrzSOsJW0b-2iW58MMhRf2_aac-BM/s400/FH000026.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">So the winner of my giveaway will also <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">receive</span> this book. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Marley-Me-Life-Worlds-Worst/dp/0060817089/ref=pd_bbs_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1201498051&sr=8-2">Marley & Me by John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Grogan</span></a>. I laughed out loud, I cried, and I thanked the Patron Saint of Pets that I didn't end up with a dog as crazy as Marley. My book club read this book a year ago and it was enjoyed by non-dog owners as well.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkR4R7PPgOFWFkwxn7BiFn7SgxJ1GTL4znC4jpjtZOGm4fe9esGDQUQX6-6y_LxR56zP5vb4qA8zNidJjwbNaxEZ9oW8tU2q49-UONSW272ZuPu8Ayd1ODDlw-JLqAsRCCdgzoJaV4gP8/s1600-h/marley.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160379885094313874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkR4R7PPgOFWFkwxn7BiFn7SgxJ1GTL4znC4jpjtZOGm4fe9esGDQUQX6-6y_LxR56zP5vb4qA8zNidJjwbNaxEZ9oW8tU2q49-UONSW272ZuPu8Ayd1ODDlw-JLqAsRCCdgzoJaV4gP8/s400/marley.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center">I think you'll enjoy it a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">a lot</span> too. Especially since you'll be so relaxed and smelling good.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">So, if you think you'd use and enjoy these lavender products and would enjoy reading Marley & Me, leave a comment and I'll draw a winner on Friday afternoon. I'll ship anywhere, too!</div><div align="center">That's it!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160377320998838066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkeaohJbQhZGRcsUAmsL6dyZ7Ei1vdZyA_tlBC683Q7wUJwvVOmKq1bSHrwWp8Iw3YlE5_7Xu8l2jIgh638iLBgHCoYXAc1NuWUzlHU1W3l_CTXAIOSxJuvTcC7ewCwsmEZM5VXaECUI/s400/FL000042.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Koko</span> and I wish you Good Luck!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Oh, and no emails from you PETA fanatics please. It's a crate, not a cage. And we use it humanely, and for training, and all that jazz. And I would never turn her into a coat. Or a muff. If I used muffs. Actually, I still have a white rabbit muff from when I was six, so I don't even need a muff. And I only put her in the crate for this picture because she won't move more than 12 inches away from me and it's kind of hard to take a picture that way. Then she was let right back out and free to continue on thru her three bowls of food a day. Food that is natural, healthful and organic. So see, she's fine. She eats better than my kids, OK?</div><div align="center">Okay.</div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com307tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-4787744727367889722008-01-27T22:09:00.000-06:002008-01-27T22:15:34.482-06:00Maybe my little samurai has matured a bit more than I gave her credit for<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br />I can't thank you all enough for the wonderful responses I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">received</span> from <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/mental-bearing-not-skill-is-sign-of.html">Friday's post</a>. Your words of encouragement and understanding have been so uplifting for me to read.<br /><br />I often tend to overreact in situations like this one, that mama bear instinct is a strong one, but this time I think the calm voice of reason prevailed.<br /><br />The Girl was at it again on Friday, this time swiping Fiona's paint set right off of her table during art class.<br /><br />And my girl?<br /><br />She walked right up to The Girl and asked for her paint set back.<br /><br />And she got it. Simple as that.<br /><br />She was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">feelin</span>' pretty good when she got home that afternoon.<br /><br />And so was I.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdyaWbUExhub1Py95GQ8Ojw6cqLWw4fXHk6ov-6oeYGxazHrZczrrSnHh6TilK4U2dNDX-ZsD7mp2msj8X9pQn5iGhUVFU-FlBytp28M78O97urz1vFjsWkT99jm-GIDA0ZW8_HpEqH0/s1600-h/FH010030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdyaWbUExhub1Py95GQ8Ojw6cqLWw4fXHk6ov-6oeYGxazHrZczrrSnHh6TilK4U2dNDX-ZsD7mp2msj8X9pQn5iGhUVFU-FlBytp28M78O97urz1vFjsWkT99jm-GIDA0ZW8_HpEqH0/s400/FH010030.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><p align="center"><br />I think everything worked out okay, this time.<br /><br /><br /></p><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7LqC8JYN_KQWHEHdVf93247CSetmLAJoq8IndMm1Cd2PGl9tlQVnaF2MAXC1mieM4spJ-ymQui15zYwVB2OazcKYauoUncUK1TEtWM5UqIY_D2KIlAYUvB-dt7g0UuR3kZ5kWRGgzCU/s1600-h/FH010036.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7LqC8JYN_KQWHEHdVf93247CSetmLAJoq8IndMm1Cd2PGl9tlQVnaF2MAXC1mieM4spJ-ymQui15zYwVB2OazcKYauoUncUK1TEtWM5UqIY_D2KIlAYUvB-dt7g0UuR3kZ5kWRGgzCU/s400/FH010036.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><p align="center"><br />If only it was always going to be this simple. </p><p align="center"><br /><br /><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p><div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-72624863170386264872008-01-25T00:19:00.000-06:002008-01-24T23:16:44.940-06:00"Mental bearing, not skill, is the sign of a matured samurai"It has started. And by 'IT' I mean the situation I thought I wouldn't have to deal with until junior high.<br /><br />I'm talking about bullying.<br /><br />We've had our first honest to goodness straight out of a scene from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0377092/">Mean Girls, </a>bullying incident. And I'm already out of advice.<br /><br />I'm also sorry, but not shocked that this bullying is happening so young. I expect it in high school and junior high. I'm not quite ready <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">for it</span> in fourth grade.<br /><br />Fiona came home from school today upset that a girl stole her dessert at lunch. From what I understand, Fiona had her lunch in front of her, and was sitting sideways in her seat facing and chatting with the girl next to her, when The Girl seated across from her grabbed her little pack of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Oreos</span>.<br /><br />When Fiona turned back to the table she began to look around her lunch table for her dessert and said 'Where's my snack?'She saw the already empty package in front of The Girl, and as they made eye contact and Fiona realized that was her snack, The Girl started to laugh.<br /><br />And my girl, she got up and left.<br /><br />She walked away. Like I've always preached, time and time again. "Just walk away." But has it been the right advice all this time? Ultimately, she should have walked away, but should she have stuck up for herself first? Maybe just made a small comment, a declaration that she would not be a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">victim of</span> this girls mean-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ness</span>?<br /><br />At the very least, if she was going to walk away as she did without a word, she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">should have</span> done so with an attitude of "Whatever" and not have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">let The</span> Girl's actions eat away at her all day, leaving her frustrated and upset.<br /><br />My advice to her, as we talked after school, was that had she noticed it sooner, before or during The Girl eating the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Oreos</span>, she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">should have</span> held out her hand and firmly said "Give me back my snack."<br /><br />And if that didn't work, she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">should have</span> gone to find the lunch mom. Because although, it is only a pack of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">oreos</span>, stealing is stealing. And, in case The Girl was raised by immoral hooligans, I would like her to know that it is also wrong.<br /><br />Fiona told me she couldn't say anything, The Girl would just laugh 'cause she does it to everybody.' She couldn't tell the lunch mom, because <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">supposedly</span> 'they don't do anything.' There were fourteen excuses why she couldn't stick up for herself. And one of them was that I always tell her not to be a tattletale.<br /><br />I do say that. And she never listens.<br /><br />I suggested that if Fiona asked for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">oreos</span> back, half eaten or not, and The Girl laughed, Fiona <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">could've</span> said something along the lines <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">of 'I'm</span> sorry your parents don't make enough money to buy you your own <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">oreos</span>.' But apparently, Fiona doesn't see the beauty that is a good comeback. I offered a few more, all of which were shot down.<br /><br />I'm not proud to resort to playground trash talking. And I certainly don't want her to learn a finger snap and some 'yo, Mama' lingo. (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Although</span> I do have a few good ones she could use.) But, if the supervisor in charge is not approachable or helpful, and my child is left to handle this on her own,I want her to be able to stick up for herself.<br /><br />It's not even about the cookies.<br /><br />It's about tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.<br /><br />If today it's a package of cookies, who knows what it could be after that. I do know, that if Fiona goes on saying nothing, The Girl will go on taking.<br /><br />I know I don't know a thing about The Girl, or her situation and her baggage. Because we all have it and who knows what is happening with her at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">home right</span> now. But I do know a thing of two about My Girl, and she needs to find some confidence, real quick.<br /><br />I hear her at home yelling, barking orders, being bossy to her siblings. I see her this way with neighborhood kids and cousins. She is a typical,take charge, likes to be the boss, first born. I hear her disrespect her father and I, when she can't have something she wants, with a door slam or a 'You're so mean.'<br /><br />There is a voice there, this I know for sure.<br /><br />Where was this voice when she needed it today?<br /><br />As I type this, with this situation weighing heavily on my mind, I am sitting at Fiona's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Tae</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Kwon</span> Do class watching in awe as she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">breaks board</span> after board with the strike of her hand or the snap of her foot. I see her form; stiff and controlled and strong. I hear her voice yell loudly as she makes contact time after time, sounding clear and firm, with a confidence that is so familiar when we are in this place. I watch her spar and back her opponent into a corner, I hear the snap of her kick as it hits their chest protector, her kick strong and landing dead center on her opponents chest protector. I see her stand right back up, quickly, ready to be challenged again, when it is her turn to be knocked down by a square kick to the heart.<br /><br />This is why we are here. To find focus, confidence, and inner strength. To respect ourselves enough to know that even though we can fight, we won't. Because there is always a better way.<br /><br />So why didn't she have the same courage she has tonight in this <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Dojang</span>, today in the lunch room? Why didn't she use it to speak firmly and clearly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">and let</span> The Girl know she would not be picked on?<br /><br />Even if she doesn't want to carry on the tradition that is my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">snarky</span> remark in situations such as this, why didn't she handle it the way she is being taught?<br /><br />With confidence, with self-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">respect</span>, and with courage.<br /><br />Fiona <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">disrespected</span> herself today. She allowed herself to be taken advantage of and she let the person that did it make her feel badly about herself. She needs to remember that she is worth more than that.<br /><br />I'm trying to teach her this. This non-tangible thing called 'the right thing.' And it is so hard. Especially, when I don't always know what is 'the right thing.'<br /><br />Ultimately, the day is done, it's over. She's over it, and so I guess I am too. I just want it to be different next time.<br /><br />Because there will definitely be a next time.<br /><br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-16777671501341298632008-01-24T08:20:00.001-06:002008-01-24T10:31:56.088-06:00Unlike the Golden Globes, This Award Show Will Go On<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoU71PaUhi02-MQo3ADSFv27A8toxish0vPW5BHTnQAH5qzA_ImRRwHc7RNgSTF5ccvQF62VRAhIZSmdkGVeZMkQQTRsk9BOOJQxCs-h9PLKayEBd3sEpNRsPtxi-PTb_GinhYez6fBfU/s1600-h/excellent.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159074210741362418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoU71PaUhi02-MQo3ADSFv27A8toxish0vPW5BHTnQAH5qzA_ImRRwHc7RNgSTF5ccvQF62VRAhIZSmdkGVeZMkQQTRsk9BOOJQxCs-h9PLKayEBd3sEpNRsPtxi-PTb_GinhYez6fBfU/s400/excellent.bmp" border="0" /></a><br />Look! Somebody thinks I'm Excellent!<br /><br />Nope, it's not <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0096928/">Bill and Ted</a>...it's <a href="http://staciesmadness.blogspot.com/">Stacie</a>!<br /><br />And I can't thank her enough. Blog awards are fun, to receive and to pass on. And to get this award this week, of all weeks...well, it makes me want to put a little bit more effort into the blog than I have this week.<br /><br />Because trying to post this week has been a struggle. I have been in a bit of a writing slump. A fog. A haze. A bit of writers block.<br /><br />In other words...I got nothin'.<br /><br />But not today. Today I get to pass this Excellent! award on to 10 blogs that I think are excellent in their own special way.<br /><br />So, in no particular order, and without any further ado...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.motyerin.blogspot.com/">MOTY</a>! Come on down! Moty has a new blog and she is an amazing digiscrapper. She just recently posted <a href="http://motyerin.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-new-favorite-layout.html">this layout</a>, and I tell ya', the girl has the whole Photoshop thing goin' on. I would love to see more of her mad skillz in action.<br /><br />And while I'm in the category of digiscrapping, which I have absolutely NO IDEA how to even start, but really admire the pages these ladies create I would also like to award <a href="http://www.snaphappyinkymomma.blogspot.com/">SnapHappyInkyMomma </a>and <a href="http://welcometomyworldjanmary.blogspot.com/">Janmary</a>. They to, are fantastic digiscrappers. I sit and read their blogs and admire their pages and imagine how caught up and full my scrapbooks would be if I to, went digital. I mean, surely I could keep on top of the whole scrapbooking thing if I was sitting in front of the computer. I happen to have a lot of talent in that area.<br /><br />My blog is Excellent!, remember?<br /><br />Another talented lady whose blog I think is excellent is the fabulous <a href="http://www.forcryeye.blogspot.com/">PLO</a>. PLO is one talented chick. She is vintage and retro and hip and crafty and a million other things, but she is mostly FUN! She is into art and creating through all different types of mediums, from beads, to vintage papers, to scrapbooks, and much more. Her art is her expression of herself and it is beautiful.<br /><br />(Whoa baby! Don't I sound artsy? <em>'Mediums'...</em>It almost sounds like I know what I'm talking about.)<br /><br />If you are looking for an excellent blog read, you should check out <a href="http://chasedbychildren.typepad.com/">Jenny from Chicago</a>. Jenny blogs at Chased by Children and she cracks me up. She lives, literally, just up the road from me, and yet we've never met. But someday soon, I hope we do. And I'll have to wear a Depends when I meet this chick, because I think I'll be laughing A Lot. Jenny is funny and clever and quick and smart. Who loves ya baby?<br /><br />Another blog I read, who also happens to live super close to me, yet I wouldn't know her if I walked right by her in Target, is the <a href="http://www.sayanything.typepad.com/">New Diva on the Blog</a>. She is beautiful and funny and so sweet. And have I mentioned she is beautiful? I think it's because of her sweet personality and also because she does this thing, you may have heard of it, it's called working out? It's not something I'm all that familiar with, but whatever.<br /><br />Okay...next up for the Excellent award is Holly, the <a href="http://www.marathonbird.blogspot.com/">Marathon Bird</a>. Holly is seriously into running and she just finished her first marathon. Amazing. Did I tell you guys I walked the new puppy around the block last week? I sure did. Anyway, Holly's sweetness comes through on her blog and I think she is great. She makes me laugh and I feel like she's the kind of person you could meet in real life and it would feel as though you were old friends. She's just that great.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.notbefore7.blogspot.com">Mary</a>! I think you are most excellent! Mary is an amazing mom and an amazing Christian. She writes so eloquently and so honestly about trying to live her life and be a good Christian woman, she writes of home and faith and setting good examples and sometimes I think I learn more from her posts than I do at church. She speaks to my heart, this girl. Mary can post anything from <a href="http://notbefore7.blogspot.com/2007/11/daniel.html">reading the Bible all the way through</a>, to her <a href="http://notbefore7.blogspot.com/2008/01/purse-diaries.html">newest bling</a>, to a <a href="http://notbefore7.blogspot.com/2008/01/snuggle-up.html">no-sew craft</a>. And she can rap out the Beastie Boys like it's 1989. We love the same type of music, from the Beastie Boys to Brad Paisley and I just love Mary!<br /><br />Have you ever been on a <a href="http://www.vikingconquest.blogspot.com/">Viking Conquest</a>? Heidi and her family are on one right now, and it has been so fun to follow their journey. Heidi and Mike are the cool parents I wished I had when I was growing up, you know the kind that <a href="http://vikingconquest.blogspot.com/2008/01/ice-day.html">take you skiing, instead of to school</a>? Heidi would be so fun to hang out with and she is definitely <a href="http://vikingconquest.blogspot.com/2008/01/bye-bye.html">my kind of mom</a>.<br /><br />And last, but in no way the least is one of my favorites, <a href="http://www.thequeenb1.blogspot.com">The Queen B</a>. The Queen is laugh out loud funny. She takes care of the King and Princess, and their menagerie of animals and somehow she makes her everyday life sound like a funny sitcom. And not like <a href="http://thequeenb1.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-tv-thing-is-getting-old.html">The Office</a> funny, either. I mean a really funny show, like back in the eighties and nineties when 30-minute sitcoms were FUNNY. That is the kind of funny that is The Queen and her palace.<br /><br />That's all! I wish I could've just put every blog I read up, but the rules say 10, so 10 it was. But really I think that the blogs I read are all excellent, otherwise I wouldn't read them, right? Right.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-1506234895002855002008-01-23T00:46:00.000-06:002008-01-22T23:16:10.593-06:00Lavender; you can't barbeque it, boil it, broil it, bake it or saute it, but it smells real good.<div align="center">I love <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lavender</span>.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Which is actually a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">surprising</span> thing for me to love. Because I don't really care for flowery smells all that much. I don't wear purple clothes. I don't eat eggplant, and I've never even seen The Color Purple. So for me to have such an affinity for something so purple, is pretty surprising. </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">But I can't help it. I love <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">lavender</span> like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Bubba</span> loves shrimp.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158513610135052002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-uAliGpEz86nM5HpwGctma-RDqSkFKQX1Kpap6X-SecGUG270t1J4dqHUc6O3d3fztJOPpt-mqEeW0OmFyATrS_BNcZhg9nqeWWzvbrrhDJGuJMEOEcVbg1qDcNc1uvle6FcQJ8AJOA/s400/FL070032.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I took this picture in October, the house next door to me has beautiful lavender plants that line the front walk. The smell envelopes you as you walk past them.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Now, I don't have quite as many uses for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">lavender</span> as Benjamin Buford Blue had recipes for his beloved shrimp.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(Holy cow. Can you believe I just pulled <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Bubba's</span> real name off the top of my head like it was my favorite flavor of ice cream?)</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(My mind, '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">tis</span> a scary place.)</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">However.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I do appreciate the plethora of goods which derive from the versatile plant known as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">lavandula</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">angustifoliant</span>. </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(And that, I did not know off the top of my head. Go figure.)</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(Useless fact <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">obscurely</span> related to a shellfish I enjoy; no problem. Scientific plant name that I'm sure I had to know for my high school horticulture class; no clue.)</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">(In my defense though, I only took horticulture because my high school had a green house. And I thought it would be an easy A to go and water plants for an hour.)</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(It wasn't.)</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(Hence the reason I did not pursue anything remotely related to anything remotely horticultural once that class was over.)</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I guess the thing I enjoy lavender the most in is my body cream. I love the way it smells. I love that it is subtle and calming and smells clean. It feels so good when I rub it on my legs and feet before I go to bed at night.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">There's also <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">lavender</span> body wash, which is my favorite thing to pour into a warm tub at night. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I like to burn a lavender candle in my bathroom and I think a little misting of lavender linen spray on my sheets before climbing into bed would be like transforming my bedroom into a room at a 5 star resort. </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Clearly, as scents of lotions and candles go, lavender is my choice.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">You might be wondering why all this talk of lavender during the long cold winter? Well, my skin is dry, for one thing. And also, there is a big new pink button on my sidebar. Have you checked it out? Are you giving something away next Monday?</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I am.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Can you guess what it is?</div><div align="center"></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-56038288461603808102008-01-22T00:01:00.000-06:002008-01-22T00:03:44.893-06:00Wintertime Is Not My Favorite TimeI think that January and February are my least favorite months. It is always about this time of year, mid January, that I find myself with a bit of the wintertime blues.<br /><br />The anticipation and excitement of the Holidays are over, the novelty of the New Year is wearing off, and Spring seems so very far away.<br /><br />Valentines Day just doesn't seem to hold my interest like it once did, so the weeks leading up to it aren't exactly crossed off my calendar in red pen like they once were. But then again, I used to get flowers delivered to my office on Valentines Day. And then a nice dinner out in a restaurant where it didn't matter if the wait was an hour. Because having to wait for a table was Great! We can sit in the bar! And order an appetizer! And talk!<br /><br />These days I find myself getting antsy if the drive <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">thru</span> line at McDonald's has more than four cars in it, because it means I will need to explain at least 32 extra times why they no longer have Polly Pocket toys. Even the recent Strawberry Shortcake offerings were not enough to erase the fond memories of a Polly Pocket Happy Meal.<br /><br />And, on the occasion when we don't dine at a place with a drive <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">thru</span>, if the wait is longer than 20 minutes, we must think about leaving. Because 20 minutes gives each of my children exactly 5 minutes of their own to hold the your-table-is-ready-red-light-is-flashing-beeper-thingy. I think the adult word for it would be a pager?<br /><br />And if the pager has not paged us in 20 minutes, look out. Because things tend to get a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">little</span> heated. The pager gets grabbed and pulled and yanked around like a it's a hundred dollar bill, each kid hoping that during the time they have it in their hot little hands, it will go off. And they are not afraid to wrestle each other for it. Meanwhile, every other person in the waiting area is PRAYING TO THE GOOD LORD ABOVE that they do not end up seated near us.<br /><br />I don't blame them a bit. I often end up wishing I didn't have to sit near us.<br /><br />And what our lack of restaurant etiquette has to do with my wintertime blues, I have no idea.<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />I think I was really feeling the wintertime blues today, because while I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">outside</span> with the dogs it seemed that there were reminders everywhere that Spring was not even close to being around the corner. Which means that Summer is not even on the horizon. And I love summer.<br /><br />I had my favorite winter boots on. I mean I love these boots, I just wish I didn't have at least twelve more weeks left to wear them.<br /><br />They are cute though, don't ya think? A little cowboy-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ish</span>, but yet with a rubber sole and rounded toe that says, "Hey, I'm really a suburban mom who, while with no real reason to need cowboy boots, thinks that they pretty cool with my jeans."<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158146848098891426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLab38yQdytyVKcLh44e1jQ1XaKb11DyYqA3JXRqNZtt_vLEuCOsmPzCuyTN2NjBJOe1TzsJ-L5694Qihsf6RImTZtsXyMuL5LVsM97_fjZXc2ikRogU_5t_D0Tumv9i8YKahvKxm5JNE/s400/FL010004.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And as much as I love my boots, I'd give them up in a minute for a good pedicure and some sand between my toes.<br /><br />Then there's the grill. Were no grilling is taking place. We tried to grill some burgers a few weeks ago, and it was just too cold. The grill never really got hot enough. Which is actually why we ended up at a restaurant with the infamous pager system that causes me great amounts of stress, when we had a taste for steaks a few nights ago.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158147049962354354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJ6Nbqxpnrg7xOx9Zrl6Jl0UIdZCeSMnzLuqLfJtUtXj6BULLHjwlqvVszkiMj9a2JR1dFw5EbTji1WSZy_fWir3VO8Kw1jDNP3ArBYRhdLCh-HCSEVPGzDFIQCb8psJ2KTVmUGamLE4/s400/FL010013.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Not too far from the barb<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">cue</span> is the pool. Which is frozen solid. And obviously, covered with snow. And lately the only thing that has been stressing me out more than the questions about Polly Pockets is the question that will not die.<br /><br />"Can we go ice skating on the pool?"<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Ummmmm</span>, NO. And the answer will still be NO Every.Single.Time.You.Ask.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158147191696275138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2It8QyaUi-j8pqqO-MBMsLm0Wvgl1FaUlKeqxmkJ7TSsQzzOARMZO1Jrhyf2-1Qw3Qj1_NFo9w1mYOQpp_nQaWB9Wsvq7vOpzZRkVCm09sBc1AGC0mGbWa7XBuPV_8bNRKl5n6ZL8Gw/s400/FL010014.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br />And look at this poor, lonely, cold little playhouse. It sits outside in the freezing air and cold winds probably wondering where the little girl and her Polly Pockets are. It was below zero here yesterday, and no one even bothered to care enough to close the front door. Poor thing.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158147380674836178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP75u2eDOT1Y0_KTpuUI3RjZGuXwuMa7IB_crnbrr4ZeoS4H5F3vG2j1GwClmrLvJ2h1Mu06hIveWMtDB0p2G5CllC1jS_Ikku-mb428ytcwuA-Q4hiGdxdR9_RJ4pK5RC0HgmlahfwPM/s400/FL010016.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Inside, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">cubbies</span> are filled with vests and coats and scarves. Where bathing suits and baseball uniforms used to hang, there is enough down to fill a king size comforter.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158147475164116706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_TSsPJRaDzm9Nj9cNQ0Q3G95RVb_U1h2fdaV7z2oRlzfaIkZx9ET4XWX6rQN9Mzf4zaRywq1k_4Ed1XRseszqix65Zi0_PYg9RabCZp2cOfdC1t7FoJZsEpfh_n092GmsyenSP3f-V0/s400/FL010017.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Of course, another sign of wintertime indoors is the ever present bottle of the 'pink stuff' on the counter along with some form of cough syrup or cough <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">suppressant</span> or cough inducer. Whatever it may be, for the love of a good nights sleep, JUST MAKE THE COUGHING STOP.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158147629782939378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnqdXOTj0YcbU0TCYcHNDffBWCODcjQZ0oTTnKjSaoh_wWU23WAqjjMV6QRSUZJS6Nr-mvpqa26BaTTYY48gaxYzfaUh7SAbdcJDrNkkK-cutRfjIa7Dbu9xb5UObcWCFZLdRm0m72MA/s400/FL010019.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And finally, the biggest sign of all that it's winter, it's cold and it's snowing with no end in sight? BOTH of our cars are in THE GARAGE. At the same time. Together.<br /><br />Why does this make me sad? Well, for one, it means a lot more of the driveway is going to need shoveling.<br /><br />But really, it means we're not playing outside. The garage is not strewn with bicycles and scooters and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">jump ropes</span> that are supposed to get put away when the playing is done, but never do. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">powerwheels</span> are hung up high and the driveway hasn't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">seen</span> a chalk painting in ages.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158147732862154498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVfGtLnCiFLTxS8ydRvWpE4sFoveyeT_3mnKAd51hI2SdQzo17RgAzB8iyWERkQYiPvtjn5LR5z3wRlWDxur5vBtnETUUUAEe6yHMC1d2rDPGiFDJewYKodv0fSKDUFDqKTre43VcKe4/s400/FL010027.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As much as I like having the garage picked up enough to have both cars in it, these wintertime blues really stink. I need some sun. I need some warm temperatures, and the smell of some fresh Springtime air.<br /><br />Mostly, I need to snap out of this funk.<br /><br />I need to quit moaning and groaning about winter, and the cold, and the snow. The snow doesn't even bother me that much. It's just this feeling I have that the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">greenness</span>, the newness of Spring is taking forever to get here.<br /><br />I need to be grateful for each day, each moment. Cold weather or not.<br /><br />I probably need to go play with some Polly Pockets.<br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-45997445994352754722008-01-21T00:25:00.000-06:002008-01-20T23:54:20.059-06:00I Think I'm Too Young To Need Retin-A<div align="center">Greetings Internets. Koko here. I'm taking over the blog again today. I've got skin care on my mind.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157797568473478802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgmPBKBL90M7DLXs3f-mmMMcjh8XdvwTSCh6obvvyU8edeP_zaVpSzEASUtLZqD0iUcTEOuxxOZmKKM1-JVnDwJ8I7A0ZRcHqNRrKj18ID-94xHvbRiMTYoLnGQ4IrwK3Y2HPh5iYhaI/s400/FL010015.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">My humans seem to think I am having a problem with premature aging. My wrinkles seem to be the topic of a lot of conversations around here. All which end with people laughing and rubbing the top of my head. </div><br /><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-3GXHdzdnfDowBa3nmQSLnFsDPrXsXHLDWG59Tim4KAt8WYsC6mVF64fMl1Zivh9u6m7_tekGM4ObodQh5hZAXSRtZaMkRb5Vklq2zXu69YY6i7VjsAX3VjWfLN2kVoTTQ4B_-sAyKAo/s1600-h/FL010006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157797461099296386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-3GXHdzdnfDowBa3nmQSLnFsDPrXsXHLDWG59Tim4KAt8WYsC6mVF64fMl1Zivh9u6m7_tekGM4ObodQh5hZAXSRtZaMkRb5Vklq2zXu69YY6i7VjsAX3VjWfLN2kVoTTQ4B_-sAyKAo/s400/FL010006.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center">They also seem to think my skin is starting to droop a bit.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZ68uVQCMum81jKOzCWWKBwJuncMu5DLQfiO4cYd1qOxoqsa86FpBQwkaoF9_5kRVIju2L6bBRVlrG7tmVbKSBLunzkPxvwL8hyT9YXx5be8ZJaYS8cZsR2dyzuwOiC7BZ-dAnUkV5Y0/s1600-h/FL010003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157797358020081266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZ68uVQCMum81jKOzCWWKBwJuncMu5DLQfiO4cYd1qOxoqsa86FpBQwkaoF9_5kRVIju2L6bBRVlrG7tmVbKSBLunzkPxvwL8hyT9YXx5be8ZJaYS8cZsR2dyzuwOiC7BZ-dAnUkV5Y0/s400/FL010003.jpg" border="0" /></a> Aren't wrinkles supposed to be a sign of age and wisdom? </div><div align="center">I'm getting older. I'm a smart pup. I think I qualify for a few well placed wrinkles. I like to think of it as my signature look.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">But, I'm beginning to wonder if I should be focusing on anti aging instead of chewing the leg of the coffee table. And eating three times a day.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiT1GcPc54rSnsplfByO1xALp1aFe-Cyzd5AoISpfEEwXIky7euY2Jvks_J-0A2qPnoeg6XR1rB0ZYQv3eBssT3HORy1GL9DBhsJ5kwsGXNFKGxPk1VAGDHHQSO5fZsEalJGW4tUlmaM/s1600-h/FH020039.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157797169041520226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiT1GcPc54rSnsplfByO1xALp1aFe-Cyzd5AoISpfEEwXIky7euY2Jvks_J-0A2qPnoeg6XR1rB0ZYQv3eBssT3HORy1GL9DBhsJ5kwsGXNFKGxPk1VAGDHHQSO5fZsEalJGW4tUlmaM/s400/FH020039.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Today my human was on the phone and I'm pretty sure I heard the words Oil of Olay. And Nivea. I'm really starting to get a complex.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">It's what's on the inside that counts, you know.<br /><p></p></div></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-72630921021797158602008-01-18T00:02:00.000-06:002008-01-17T22:49:45.596-06:00Saved by the MemeLast week,<a href="http://riprunninroarin.blogspot.com/"> Chrissy </a>tagged me for a 7 Things You Didn't Know About Me Meme.<br /><br />I am so conflicted about the art of the meme.<br /><br />On one hand, I think;<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hallelujah</span>.<br /><br />Something to write about that I actually don't have to come up with all by myself.<br /><br />And on the other hand, I think;<br /><br />Oh Crap. <br /><br />Who wants to read about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mememememememe</span>?<br /><br />But, because Chrissy tagged, I will do.<br /><br />I'm sure you were all wondering what on earth you could possibly not know about me yet, and today, I'm able to put your mind at ease.<br /><br />1. I love brown. Love it. It's my favorite color. To wear. To accessorize with. To decorate with. It's warm, it's chic, it's classy. Because you know I am all of those things. Warm, chic and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">klas</span>-say.<br /><br />2. And grey. Dark grey, light grey, a grey crayon, whatever. Grey is a classic. It's not like a Crayola Crayon called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Jazzberry</span> Jam. Or Mango Tango. What the heck kinds of colors are those? Grey is grey. <br /><br />3. I don't love cats. They are sneaky. Sorry to all my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">bloggy</span> friends who love their feline friends. I am sure your cats are very sweet. I just don't like cats. Or birds.<br /><br />4. I wish I were more organized. I'm a mess. Just today, I realized that every pencil in our house needed to be sharpened. <br /><br />5. I'm lazy. I didn't say I actually went ahead and sharpened all those pencils that needed it.<br /><br />6. I LOVE Star Wars. The complexity, the family dynamics, the battle between good and evil, the struggle between the Dark Side vs. the Light Side of the Force. What can I say? I love Star Wars as much as I love brown. And that's A Lot.<br /><br />7. I wish I could be a back up singer for a big star. I don't need to be the center of attention or the star of the show. Who wants to deal with all the paparazzi anyway? If I was a back up singer for someone like Justin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Timberlake</span> or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Shania</span> Twain, I could be up there on the stage in my cute little matching outfit singing along and doing the choreographed moves just like a rock star, without actually being <em>the </em>rock star. How cool would that be? Of course, I would need to be able to sing. And dance.<br /><br />And fit into the cute little outfits.<br /><br />So I guess I'll probably never be a back up singer. That's okay. I'll just stay home, watch Star Wars and wear lots of brown.<br /><br />What a relief it is to have you all know that about me. Phew.<br /><br /><br />If you want to give this one a try, consider yourself tagged.<br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-8041236066552735312008-01-17T00:07:00.000-06:002008-01-16T23:43:41.277-06:00It's Thursday So That Means I'm Rambling. On. And On.I can't begin to thank you all enough for the get well wishes you've sent me over the past few days. I truly, truly am thankful for your kind thoughts and words. I've slacked a lot this week on my blog reading and commenting, but please know that I really appreciate each and every one of you who takes the time to check in on this blog of mine. This whole Internet thing, it does amaze me.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I wish I was the type of person who can trudge <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">thru</span> an illness like a supermom, but I'm not. I'm actually a big baby when it comes to being sick. When I am not well, I just cannot function. Luckily, K ran the show around here for me and I've caught up on every missed hour of sleep that I've ever lost since 1998. With lots of moaning thrown in for good measure.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I have discovered that the more I sleep, the more I want to sleep. I kept thinking, at some point, my body would just refuse to fall back to sleep. I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">expecting</span> to be up all night last night, because I was sure my eyes just wouldn't be able to close and take in any more sleep.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>That turned out not to be the case at all. The more sleep I got, the more I wanted. I could not stay awake for more than 30 minutes at a time without my eyelids starting to droop and my head looking for the nearest horizontal surface.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I promise no more talk of the sickness that left visions of <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-my-dreams-im-apparently-still-fan-of.html"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Axl</span> Rose </a>dancing in my head. </div><div></div><div>And the dream about the puffer fish? Scary. They are still there every time I close my eyes. Those puffer fish are some mean dudes.</div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156299058678871634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW4OyUwPLe2D1lAfDxpirRCuFoAcE6ss4jwSysChUmC4DQJxpsEwHmv2qxFad-bQwcbhj6D3DhQF9qNkqfJ26n5fuihxT5GUzekny6mcP6lafmOWxLiJf1_w_HfFpCeq1MgQBiFG10caQ/s400/jims-puff.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The narcotics? They can really mess with your mind. And leave your limbs feeling all heavy and wonderful. But the messing with the mind part? It's scary what's going on up there.<br /><br /><br />And did I really say "<a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/warning-urban-slang-used-by-suburban.html">That's how I roll</a>?" Forgive me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Internets</span>. It's all a blur.<br /><br /><br />I've been wanting to mention a few Thank <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">You's</span>, long over due, but better late than never.<br /><br />I won a contest last month from <a href="http://thesimplewife.typepad.com/the_simple_wife/">The Simple Wife</a>, and I've been wanting to show you all what I won. It is way cuter than this photo, but you get the idea.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156278872332580386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_itqmPuzxZTVtUT7BL5sDsVN_Kr7bmnRbiUvpPuOfLk1L7FegPe2lnRXKCJSZxBkq53imueoe_jDMYyY-NtLXz2ScvkNPvyQNGnDV0jsGe7hmuOn9_1nKsP7lT9-QIAjF6Sfe70ULEY/s400/100_2567.jpg" border="0" /><br />It is a handmade, small zippy purse. It is fully lined and I love it! I use it every day and each time I zip and unzip it, it makes me want to run out and buy a sewing machine so I could make fantastic things too. Thank you, Joanne!</p><p>I also won a contest a while ago over at <a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/reviews/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Bloggy</span> Giveaways</a>. I know! I am totally on a lucky streak right now! I won the giveaway sponsored by <a href="http://loopdelou.com/">Loop De Lou</a>. I chose these cute little gifts tags and instead of having a name put on them like the one in the picture, I had them customized with To: and From:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156282213817136690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZUug1teTrBWu24bOp9RO9OZVbhTv2Scpj_y5GSpMTAEm599HSmqNXoCz935v_vdhm9m90jIOwrjG_ccM8FzOj__8d72kLjiAJzNyix40OubABWyniatzBNQUgLtu15wikRQ27ZqyX_Y/s400/style_happybirthdayboyccs.jpg" border="0" /> They turned out awesome! They are so easy for my kids to fill out and slap on a gift whenever they are going to a birthday party. In the past, I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">always</span> either bought a card, or had my kids make one, and this has turned out to be so much easier! Because you know why? The kids, they don't care about the card that was handmade by my daughter with 17 perfect rainbows on it. They just want to open the gift. </p><p>I love them. Thanks <a href="https://www.loopdelou.com/">Loop De Lou</a>!</p><p>I also wanted to share with y'all our Christmas Card from 2007. It turned out better than I ever could have imagined and I owe a huge Thank You to Jamie at<a href="http://www.weelittledesigns.com/"> Wee Little Designs</a>.<br /></p><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156284064948041282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDU0HjugzhIUTMBBykmEDonUf5IqZG8xdIbmzYCqi2Px2nYuCUA_vDP8P_CT1kqzqMKgufIHNReFFhPQMk7IOQ3-4alP_q16LnBmbHsCbRpAkE9FSSpm07r1am3ln3D7OEVmd9cMg_kw/s400/bloghouston.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p>Seriously. Jamie rocks. She put up with my total <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">JPEG</span> emailing ineptitude and my numerous requests to see how it looked in black and white. </p><p>Then in Color! </p><p>Nope, let's try B&W again! </p><p>Okay, I'm going with the color, 'cause of the water! See the pretty blue of the water! </p><p>I'm a bit of a nut case about the whole Christmas greeting thing, and I'm pretty sure I was driving Jamie crazy.</p><p>I actually found Jamie from a giveaway she did for <a href="http://www.bloggygiveaways.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Bloggy</span> Giveaways</a>. I would have never heard of her and her company otherwise, but I'm sure glad I had the chance to check them out!<br /></p><p>And last but not least, are any of you out there on the Good Mail bandwagon? </p><p>Honestly, I had never heard of it before, but I was reading one of my favorite blogs <a href="http://www.marathonbird.blogspot.com/">Marathon Bird</a>, (who by the way just ran the Houston Marathon, You GO Girl!) and she mentioned this whole <a href="http://jmsmusings.blogspot.com/2007/02/history-of-good-mail.html#links">Good Mail concept </a>from a blog that she read and so basically, it's sending some mail to someone that is not a bill, or an ad, or a request to save the children in Zimbabwe and if you don't send money right away you are A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">HORRIBLE</span> PERSON. </p><p>(Not that saving the children of Zimbabwe is not a very worthy cause.)</p><p>(It most definitely is.)</p><p>(It was just an example, people.)</p><p>(Rock on, Sally <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Struthers</span>.)</p><p>Holly sent me a piece of good mail just before Christmas, and I tell ya, it was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">hand stamped</span> thing of beauty that made me smile! So now, I am a good mail fan too! And I have Holly to thank for introducing me to this great idea.</p><p>I'm working on a card to send back to Holly, but of course, I can't show you, because she hasn't seen it yet. </p><p>Keep in mind that I don't <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">rubberstamp</span>. </p><p>Or know how to do anything fancy with vellum. </p><p>Or have a lot of time to invest in the fine art of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">card making</span>. </p><p>But it's the thought that counts, right?</p><p>So as I'm putting the final touches on my card for Holly I thought;</p><p>This was Fun! </p><p>I could do this again! </p><p>I should spread the joy!</p><p>So if you would like some good mail from me, hand made by me, and sent from me to you, send me an email (my address is on my sidebar) with your address. And I'll send you a piece of good mail! Hopefully before my tulips bloom.</p><p>And think about challenging yourself to put a little bit of good mail out there. It's fun to get mail. And it's fun to send it!</p><p>And when you find yourself in a joyful and happy mood after recieving good mail from me, go ahead and think about the poor children and the plight of Zimbabwe.</p><p>Or you might have a really scary dream involving Axl Rose and a puffer fish.</p><p>Or Sally Struthers.</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-11906540898784906262008-01-16T00:11:00.000-06:002008-01-15T23:46:12.852-06:00In my dreams, I'm apparently still a fan of Guns N Roses, and I've been too sick to tell myself this isn't 1991.The bronchitis, it has beaten me.<br /><br />It has beaten me so far down I hear <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Axl</span> Rose singing "Knock, Knock, Knocking on Heaven's Door" in my dreams.<br /><br />Or would the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">appearance</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Axl</span> Rose in my dreams qualify them as nightmares?<br /><br />Thanks to my codeine induced coma, I have been in bed since Sunday. Only waking to down some more codeine or take another dose of the steroids that have been keeping my airways open.<br /><br />Obviously, open airways are an important factor in breathing. Or so they told me at the <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/hopefully-my-last-coherent-thoughts.html">non-urgent </a>Urgent Care on Sunday night.<br /><br />But the '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">roids</span>? Well, they have left me in dire need of a trip to the salon for a chin wax.<br /><p>So, as soon as I can keep my eyes open for more than 45 minutes at a stretch, I'll get right on that wax.</p><p>And then, blogging around here will return to normal.</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-28268091075609315042008-01-13T22:36:00.000-06:002008-01-13T22:54:53.083-06:00Hopefully, my last coherent thoughts before the Codeine kicks inI dragged myself out of bed to the Urgent Care this evening.<br /><br />And it's a good thing I was not in need of any urgent care.<br /><br />Because when Jimmy John's delivered the subs, the only thing urgent going on was the eating being done by the medical professionals. <br /><br />Some four hours later, and with a hankering for a sub sandwich, I'm home. With a sore hip from the injection of the antibiotics and a little bit more Codeine to add to my stash.<br /><br />Is it wrong to love Codeine?<br /><br />Because if loving it is wrong, I don't want to be right.<br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-40438398895757699792008-01-12T16:23:00.000-06:002008-01-12T16:30:53.907-06:00Testing. I Repeat, This is only a TestJust testing the 3 column waters here in the land of 90 West.<br /><br />And is it just me or it the font size unbelievably huge?<br /><br />I need to fix that.<br /><br />I don't think I have much of a senior citizen readership. If I do, I apologize, you'll just need to put your reading glasses on.<br /><br />If I can't get it fixed, I'll have to just put a little desclaimer on the ol' blawg that says<br /><br />"NOW BROUGHT TO YOU IN UNBELIEVABLY LARGE PRINT"<br /><br />And now I'll stop typing in all caps. Because the only thing worse than me screaming at you, is me screaming at you in a large font.<br /><br />I'm considerate like that.<br /><br /><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-12288673274128868002008-01-11T12:59:00.000-06:002008-01-11T13:33:06.810-06:00Warning: Urban Slang Used By Suburban House Frau On Death BedGreetings from my deathbed. Or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">death couch</span>, as it may be.<br /><br />I'm sicker than sick. I may have <a href="http://bigmama1.com/2008/01/04/greetings-from-the-infirmary/">even caught the Black Plague </a>from too much reading on <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.bigmama1.com">Big Mama.</a><br /><br />Whatever it is I have, I am sure that it is the exact same thing that killed half the Pilgrims in 1620.<br /><br />Those poor, poor people.<br /><br />And amid the moaning and the fever and the chills, the profuse sweating, not to mention the swollen and puffy eyes, what is the only coherent thought I could put together?<br /><br />Well, the only coherent thought besides the one about my throat closing up?<br /><br />It was 'Must.Do.My.Post. Must Get Post Written. Have Not Posted Yet Today.'<br /><br />Clearly, I think of myself as more than just a mere cog in the wheel of this great big <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">blogosphere</span>.<br /><br />Because though laundry may sit unfolded in the dryer for days on end, beds may or may not get made daily, and my children had Easy Mac for breakfast because it was the most nutritional thing left in the pantry, I feel I MUST crank out a new post every morning.<br /><br />Because that's how I roll.<br /><br />(Excuse me.)<br /><br />(I just have always wanted to say 'that's how I roll.')<br /><br />(And I don't get many <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">opportunities</span> to do so out here in vinyl-sided suburbia.)<br /><br />(And I'm on Codeine, so I don't need to worry about making any kind of sense.)<br /><br />Roll on in peace Internets, and have a great weekend. <br /><br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-20959128040328163152008-01-10T00:43:00.000-06:002008-01-10T08:52:01.722-06:00What is it about Thursdays that have me full of so much randomness?Hey all. It seems as though my new pup took over the posting for a couple of days this week. I tell ya, that dog, she can get away with just about anything.<br /><br />Yes it's true, we bought a new puppy because it seems as though all my talk of wanting another baby, or two, put the fear of God himself into my husband, so he is hoping this new little yellow lab will distract me. And, it is working. She's a keeper.<br /><br />Just wanted to pop in to say Hi to you all. I'm having a busy week here in the land of 90 West. Various projects have been started around the house, but thanks to the newest arrival, they are not getting finished in a very timely fashion.<br /><br />I also have been practicing a little bit of my HTML skills. Actually, not skills. No where close to skills. More like I've been limping along in the world of HTML like a 90 year old woman with a walker who is in desperate need of a double hip <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">replacement</span>.<br /><br />Yes, it has been going that slow.<br /><br />A while ago, I applied for a <a href="http://www.blogherads.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">BlogHer</span> ad</a>, and Oh! The Luck! It finally came through. So in much anticipation of <em>at least</em> $26 rolling in this year, I decided I should optimize my sidebar/ outer/inner/wrapper/background/widget/header/footer/ WHATEVER/space. Because I'm real technical like that. And have lots of time to waste teaching myself HTML. Or XML as I think it might now be called in this new age of web design. Really, I have no idea. But I think <em>frustrating</em> might be just the right word for it.<br /><br />I had naive thoughts that a three column blogger template would look so much better with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">BlogHer</span> ad. And it probably will. If I can ever get it done. I'm tinkering around with it every day. But in small doses. And slowly, it's getting there. As slowly as a ninety-year old with a walker and bad hips.<br /><br />You don't really care though, do you? And I don't blame you, 'cause right now, I'm not caring all that much either.<br /><br />Remember a while back I complained about my kids and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Webkinz</span> and how I <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/could-you-all-join-me-in-spreading-some.html">couldn't get near the computer </a>during their winter break? I was afraid Nicole Richie would spit out her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">tattooed</span> baby and I'd miss the live birth on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Peopledotcom</span>? My friend, <a href="http://www.snaphappyinkymomma.blogspot.com/">Leslie</a>, swears she is still pregnant. And relief washes over me.<br /><br />However, if it weren't for World News Tonight, I would've totally missed the fact that Miss Jamie Lynn Spears is with child. Imagine, having to rely on a reputable news outlet for <a href="http://www.ok-magazine.com/home/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Ok</span>!</a> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">caliber</span> news! I just had that gut feeling I was missing something good. And then, the soon to be Aunt Britney goes and gets herself put in a 72 hour MENTAL <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">LOCK DOWN</span> and I missed the live feed of it all going down because of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Webkinzpalooza</span> on every computer I own.<br /><br />I may just have to sign up for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Peopledotcom</span> alerts sent directly to my cell phone. Because I NEED TO KNOW THESE THINGS PEOPLE!<br /><br />Dang <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Webkinz</span>.<br /><br />They are just like the Beanie Babies. In a year or two I will be THROWING THEM AWAY.<br /><br />I hope.<br /><br />But I bet <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Peopledotcom</span> will still be around. Because I know staying power when I see it.<br /><br />And, I was totally wrong about the whole "here today, gone tomorrow" internet thing.<br /><br />Continuing on with the <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2007/11/oh-randomness-of-thursday.html">randomness</a>.<br /><br />I should thank you all for the wonderful words of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">encouragement</span> and support you sent my way after <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-trying-something-new-today-and-be.html">my post </a>last Friday about wishing for simplicity. It truly is encouraging to know that I am not alone in my struggles. It was amazing to me that we all seem to share a common bond of needing to slow down and simplify the craziness that is life these days.<br /><br />Have I mentioned I heart <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">bloggers</span>? Y'all are a great community of support. And, you people make me laugh. I love to laugh.<br /><br />I plan to be laughing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">alot</span> this Friday night. I'm getting together with <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2007/09/me-and-my-gang.html">the Gang</a>, and it promises to be a night filled with chips, salsa and margaritas.<br /><br />Life is pretty good right now in my neck of the woods, and I hope it is in yours as well.<br /><br />Speaking of good, my friend <a href="http://www.lovewell.blogspot.com">Kelly</a> finally had her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">beautiful</span> little Sparkles yesterday. And <a href="http://jenontheedge.blogspot.com/2008/01/less-of-me-less-of-you.html">Jen</a>? She's lost 15 pounds! I know! 15! Oh my! Heidi lived out my dream of going <a href="http://vikingconquest.blogspot.com/2008/01/bye-bye.html"><em>back to bed</em> </a>this week, and my mom-I-wanna-be-when-I-grow-up-idol, the gorgeous Pedaling, started a <a href="http://eatloveworkout.blogspot.com/">new diet blog. </a>I know! Like she needs it! Oh, and Beth??? The girl is having <a href="http://www.ishouldbefoldinglaundry.com/i_should_be_folding_laund/2008/01/i-love-surprise.html">Twins</a>! I know! Twins! How cool is that? I want twins.<br /><br />Oops. I better go pet my puppy.<br /><br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-8839044017365373392008-01-09T01:21:00.000-06:002008-01-12T20:58:36.568-06:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3t88H5YxNPk47WtTk-vN1d3UbB4BhieYi8prEszT0biF2USO1iWG37FSll3yawldRtp8Qc33lzQjPhX1s_d4lPdF-k3d5JbkIGEyVAA_E4drU_VGIUtgSw-trYZVXZd3ytMhyphenhyphenEE7G1w/s1600-h/FL010008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153348922952660498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3t88H5YxNPk47WtTk-vN1d3UbB4BhieYi8prEszT0biF2USO1iWG37FSll3yawldRtp8Qc33lzQjPhX1s_d4lPdF-k3d5JbkIGEyVAA_E4drU_VGIUtgSw-trYZVXZd3ytMhyphenhyphenEE7G1w/s400/FL010008.jpg" border="0" /></a> It's me again. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Koko</span>. I'm cute. Really, really cute.</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JSAYgKBiK5SIW16U77bOXXlw1vy4Zmq1mS2q4jZpHJWd98SsW-pLqA0ShTV3B6-Z3n0dfHoeGa-QBEYVKAUzwEkFdmE4hyCwOt91yjKt56-8FAGSFP2FhQ1DvZ3EKb8dwXJiNJ_DM98/s1600-h/FL010009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153348849938216450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JSAYgKBiK5SIW16U77bOXXlw1vy4Zmq1mS2q4jZpHJWd98SsW-pLqA0ShTV3B6-Z3n0dfHoeGa-QBEYVKAUzwEkFdmE4hyCwOt91yjKt56-8FAGSFP2FhQ1DvZ3EKb8dwXJiNJ_DM98/s400/FL010009.jpg" border="0" /></a> I also have a serious side. I like to study things very intently. See how my forehead crinkles up when I am studying things very intently?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifcM9d0qnmKu9e_swZQR0eD5ufmhgLk_Qs7VerC8Tw4_3dCiNo-wqnWcG_M_xvYdPb0Lw9s_0Q1Qq0pFTYKbTgQ10RFKIcurkGqnFuGChCTHCh0UbUd6K9mT-tjaG-JO4MGF8pSYBAPbQ/s1600-h/FL010014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153348789808674290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifcM9d0qnmKu9e_swZQR0eD5ufmhgLk_Qs7VerC8Tw4_3dCiNo-wqnWcG_M_xvYdPb0Lw9s_0Q1Qq0pFTYKbTgQ10RFKIcurkGqnFuGChCTHCh0UbUd6K9mT-tjaG-JO4MGF8pSYBAPbQ/s400/FL010014.jpg" border="0" /></a> I am the best puppy my new humans have ever had. And the cutest too. And the best. I don't want to brag or anything, but I came to my new home on Saturday and I have not had an accident in the house yet. AT ALL. I'm just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">sayin</span>'. No accidents. My new humans keep saying they are waiting for a real puppy to show up. Do you think I should pee on the rug?<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96_oSqFB6xs5dY0SEaI0-KBBqzQ2zMKzA08zaXr5sT53FToFRZuub70lINnOYPr-9wMwtTtC9MIK-CTC3gv0KfkDCglN88UG4WBVtmby_DXnZfHMdkhrG5Jex5N7t5ovatbRKk1ZzZYs/s1600-h/FL020021.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153348721089197538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96_oSqFB6xs5dY0SEaI0-KBBqzQ2zMKzA08zaXr5sT53FToFRZuub70lINnOYPr-9wMwtTtC9MIK-CTC3gv0KfkDCglN88UG4WBVtmby_DXnZfHMdkhrG5Jex5N7t5ovatbRKk1ZzZYs/s400/FL020021.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This is me, waiting for cheese. Have I mentioned I love cheese? I must have been a mouse in a former life. All I know is, if you don't pee on the rug or anywhere else in this house, and you take your personal business outside, you get cheese. I prefer American, but Muenster works too. Or String. Or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Monterey</span> Jack. Do all humans have so much cheese in their houses?<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50_HrmQ05ynYYg0xNr7MSl6IwbatlmjAfheDaDGYsY_8n3TLF03HkyQa-9A1a81kLxwojyptd3JugpnTBEigRhnw6hboJ-iOiUMWgfzNzHlBVWvEqu94IvvtuNIQVG6AHaPmHUOLa0YY/s1600-h/FL020024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153348652369720786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50_HrmQ05ynYYg0xNr7MSl6IwbatlmjAfheDaDGYsY_8n3TLF03HkyQa-9A1a81kLxwojyptd3JugpnTBEigRhnw6hboJ-iOiUMWgfzNzHlBVWvEqu94IvvtuNIQVG6AHaPmHUOLa0YY/s400/FL020024.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />My new human mom has been going on and on for a while about wanting another baby. I think I was brought in by my new dad to keep her distracted from all that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">nonsense</span> talk. Piece of cake. Or should I say piece o' cheese?</div><div></div><div>I've got this lady wrapped around my fat little paw.</div></div><br /></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-13335232290759284522008-01-08T00:39:00.000-06:002008-01-07T22:49:54.501-06:00Pulling myself away from my new baby to get this post written. If I have to.Mary's <a href="http://notbefore7.blogspot.com/2008/01/tiny-talk-tuesday.html">Tiny Talk Tuesday </a>came at just the right time for me this week. I was talking to my sons teacher today and she was so excited to tell me about something my son said to her before Christmas break started.<br /><br />Another teacher asked Mrs. L, my sons kindergarten teacher, if she had all her Christmas shopping done. Mrs. L responded that she just had her brother in law left to buy for.<br /><br />My son overheard this and said "Mrs. L, I didn't know you had a brother. Is he in jail?"<br /><br />Get it? Brother in law?<br /><br />That's my boy.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-39776290687662051082008-01-07T16:39:00.000-06:002008-01-12T20:59:02.000-06:00<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8JDqW7Px0hTPqL5NsMSyb_dYFWMAJnohA0CQ759g741cKJDV7hV3L7Ex0S4N0fZ_0YCJmgHNIq1iGHHH751lC2z-96Wd-1G9nS3D1Y5t1JbGctGFmvaGLSSQyIhpvQNogXyDdlA4ORbQ/s1600-h/FH010005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8JDqW7Px0hTPqL5NsMSyb_dYFWMAJnohA0CQ759g741cKJDV7hV3L7Ex0S4N0fZ_0YCJmgHNIq1iGHHH751lC2z-96Wd-1G9nS3D1Y5t1JbGctGFmvaGLSSQyIhpvQNogXyDdlA4ORbQ/s400/FH010005.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br />Hello. I'm Koko. I'm taking over the blog because I'm afraid my new human may never post again. She is too busy holding me. And kissing me. And playing with my ears. And taking my picture. And feeding me pieces of cheese. Oh, and carrying me around everywhere like I'm a baby. Which I am. But still, I'm telling you that this lady is crazy. Somebody should tell her I'm a dog.<br /><br />On second thought, let's just keep things the way they are. I love cheese.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-16755201957021876052008-01-04T02:15:00.000-06:002008-01-04T03:49:52.708-06:00I'm Trying Something New Today, And Be Warned...It's DeepA while back I had an email from <a href="http://www.takenwithagrainofsalt.com/">the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mommykelly</span></a> and she had invited me to join a carnival she hosts on Fridays called <a href="http://takenwithagrainofsalt.com/home/2007/11/06/once-upon-a-time-the-birth-of-a-meme/">Flaunt It Fridays</a>.<br /><br />I responded to her that I would check it out, and I did. And then I never did a Flaunt It Friday post. Because I was a little intimidated. In reading the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mommykelly's</span> blog, I realized that she doesn't just blog, she <em>writes.</em><br /><br />And me? Well, I think we all know that the effort I put forth on this blog daily probably wouldn't count as <em>writing</em> in fine literary circles.<br /><br /><em>Rambling? </em>Yes. <em>Writing?</em> No.<br /><br />(Did I just sound like <a href="http://bestuff.com/images/images_of_stuff/210x600/ross-geller-20676.jpg">Ross <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gellar</span> </a>or what?)<br /><br />(Great.)<br /><br />Anyway, the point is, I just didn't feel like my rambling and pecking away at the old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">blawg</span> was really something that would be appropriate for a Flaunt It Friday post.<br /><br />Yet, here I am. I'll give it a try. If for no other reason than maybe I will finally be able to quit staring at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">mommykelly's</span> email in my inbox and thinking 'I really should either just do it, or delete it.'<br /><br />So let's get to the heart of the matter. The challenge for <a href="http://takenwithagrainofsalt.com/home/2008/01/04/flaunt-it-friday-own-your-dream/">this weeks Flaunt It Friday </a>is to reflect on one special dream I have for 2008.<br /><br />Could they make Diet Coke taste like regular Coke?<br /><br />I really feel that is a valid dream. Especially for me. Think of all the calories I would save. Imagine how skinny I would be if Coke had no calories.<br /><br />Okay. Seriously. A <em>real </em>dream for 2008.<br /><br />A dream of mine for 2008 would be Simplicity. To live simply. To live without chaos and clutter. Both the kind in my home and the kind in my heart.<br /><br />I feel like so much of my time is wasted searching for things.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Whether</span> it is searching through my house for some obscure thing that <em>I know I just saw somewhere, o</em>r searching through my heart for some peace within myself.<br /><br />I am spending to much time <em>searching</em>, and not enough time <em>doing</em>.<br /><br />(Now is a good time to run if all of my deep, <em>italicized,</em> thoughts are scaring you. See you next week.)<br /><br />The peace, the calm? They do <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">elude</span> me. There just seems to be nothing simple about life right now. The simplicity in daily living is no where to be found near my home.<br /><br />I don't mean simplicity as in hanging my clothes out to dry and baking my own bread. I mean something along the lines of 'A place for everything, and everything in its place.' I walk around my home feeling every day as though I am the maid. In order to keep everything picked up, orderly and clean, I must do it. I know this is one of my primary jobs as a stay at home mom, but still, I can't help but feel resentful sometimes. I often feel as though I am the only who cares enough, who respects our home enough, to try and keep it orderly. And when I drop the ball in this area, and K picks up the slack, I feel guilty, instead of grateful.<br /><br />Wouldn't it be so much <em>simpler</em> if everyone cared? If everyone in my home was just as responsible for their things as I have to be? I know it would do wonders for the chaos I feel inside.<br /><br />I don't always know where someones brown belt is. But I would guess it's right where they left it, and that it is probably NOT on the hook where it should be hanging. I can't keep track of two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Tae</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Kwon</span> Do Belts that look exactly the same. If they are not in the appropriate child's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">cubby</span>, then I don't know where they are. But I would guess they made their way down to the basement to be used as some kind of tie up for either a 'robber' or a 'mean bull.'<br /><br />Wouldn't it be simpler if the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Tae</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Kwon</span> Do belts just stayed in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">cubbies</span> where they belong, and our actual <em>toys</em> were used for playing?<br /><br />Wouldn't life be simpler if we weren't rushing around at the last minute looking for some specific item that should be 'there' but isn't?<br /><br />Yet, I feel alone in this daily struggle. And sometimes, I just don't care. I get tired of being the only one to care. (Mature, right?) It's sad, but true.<br /><br />I've hung the hook for the belt, and I've designated a cubby for each child. But have I failed in the <em>simple</em> teaching of how to respect ones things? How to simply put something away when you are done with it? <br /><br />This leads to me wanting to simplify things within my heart, too. It's like a big huge cycle that keeps going around and I cannot seem stop it. My heart is angry. And choatic. And unsure if it should just trudge along as the designated finder of all things within our four walls. If I weren't always resentful and crabby and overwhelmed about home keeping, would I be able to simply and freely give of myself to my family?<br /><br />Would I be able to sit down and read the requested 6 stories at bedtime, instead of only 2? Would I have time to play more than one game of Sorry with my kids, instead of sitting there wishing the game would end because 'I have things to do.' Would I be able to sit and just 'be'?<br /><br />I feel like if things were simpler I would.<br /><br />But I don't know. Maybe this is just how life is with 4 kids and a dog and activities and friends. I have never lived in a house with this many people before.<br /><br />I don't regret it. I just don't understand it.<br /><br />My heart tells me to just enjoy them, raise them, be with them while they are young. But my senses get overwhelmed at the chaos around me. My senses long for <em>simplicity</em>.<br /><br />And yet, despite this struggle between the need for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">simplicity</span> in my life, and the ongoing chaos that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">surrounds</span> me, I know that I <em>simply</em> don't want to miss a minute.<br /><br /><br /><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5226285797342408422.post-60811660352579550892008-01-03T02:15:00.000-06:002008-01-03T01:28:05.027-06:00Do you think Suzanne Sugarbaker ever went bowling? And more importantly, would she have used Blogger or Wordpress?So, it's a new year and I'm trying to get back to blogging regularly. It was nice to have a break from feeling like I needed to post everyday, but at the same time I sometimes felt a bit stressed, like I needed to get my thoughts out before my head exploded.<br /><br />I will say that my house has been noticeably cleaner, the laundry is (almost) done and put away, and there are groceries in the pantry thanks to all the extra time I've had on my hands while staying away from the computer.<br /><br />My holiday decorations are still up, we are still enjoying our lit tree in the evenings, but it will have to go soon as I am getting a little <em>antsy</em> over all of the Christmas clutter that seems to cover every flat surface.<br /><br />I took the kids bowling yesterday. I know that many things improve with age, but my bowling skills have not. I am one awful bowler. And I can't figure out why. I always manage to get eight or 9 pins down on the my first turn and then I can never pick up the spare. EVER. Those one or two pins are just left standing there as my ball rolls on by. So I admit it, I did get beat by a nine year old. I guess I'll just have to be okay with that.<br /><br />I also am struggling with blogger. I managed to figure out how to download a three column blogger template, but other parts are giving me trouble. I am still too nervous to leave my safe and easy home here at blogger and switch to the unknown, or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wordpress as it's called</span>, even though I've been practicing and I have to say that auto-post rocks. So, I'm kind of at a standstill with that whole decision.<br /><br />It is funny how I can walk into a store and know instantly which, for example <em>couch</em>, I like, but where to blog is really causing me to loose sleep? Why is that? I can see a couch as soon as I walk in to a furniture store, know it's the one I want, browse the whole store, and go back to my original selection. Not that, you know, I've been out shopping for couches lately. But if I was? Well then, that is how I do it.<br /><br />And why exactly am I rambling on about couches? Who knows. Maybe I ended the blogging break a little too soon.<br /><br />I am wondering how you all are doing? Anyone else ready for the holidays to be over and routines to return to normal, even if means setting an alarm clock? I'm ready, but I have enjoyed not setting the alarm for almost two weeks.<br /><br />Believe it or not, somehow my kids have been sleeping late every day. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Until</span> almost ten o'clock in the morning. Yes, I know! Where are my real children? But I'm not complaining. At all. Because you know who else has been sleeping until ten o'clock everyday right along with them?<br /><br />Me, that's who! And if I could just wake up, flip on the television, or<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">der</span> a pizza and lay around until noon watching reruns of <a href="http://take90west.blogspot.com/2007/10/and-i-count-it-all-as-time-well-wasted.html">Designing Women </a>while procrastinating on some studying I should be doing, I'd swear it was 1992 and I was back in college.<br /><br />But these kids of mine? They sleep till ten and then they get up and need to eat. And they don't really enjoy sitting down with a pizza to a good episode of Designing Women like I do. So we go bowling instead.<br /><br /><br /><p><img class="centered" alt="post signature" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/LisaSignature.jpg" /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10459382870257912689noreply@blogger.com15