tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2320953304101755442024-03-26T18:25:54.129-07:00So, This One Time.....bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-75312495682144615382010-05-01T09:53:00.000-07:002010-05-01T14:12:28.573-07:00Gary is "Plum Crazy"<div>My husband + his <span style="color:#993399;">favorite</span> <span style="color:#993399;">COLOR </span><span style="color:#000000;">+ his love of usesless trivia </span>= </div><div> </div><div> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1U_GyXXSYUACBFn7sG7XkSYUChLqCfsm8glX-DiVyF1hOyy9y-_O8UJahOoJAlokN_kibQ6V96IbVo7frBvjRaB-qQ9vdd0BY4P_zRzJEHuFYiW0ev_0EoWX4S8BkP2UGdYhaxQ0UpCh_/s1600/plum_crazy_with_black_rt.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466412380059445922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1U_GyXXSYUACBFn7sG7XkSYUChLqCfsm8glX-DiVyF1hOyy9y-_O8UJahOoJAlokN_kibQ6V96IbVo7frBvjRaB-qQ9vdd0BY4P_zRzJEHuFYiW0ev_0EoWX4S8BkP2UGdYhaxQ0UpCh_/s320/plum_crazy_with_black_rt.jpg" /></a>.<br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Should be interesting.</div>bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-77338816672382742902010-01-27T08:35:00.001-08:002010-01-27T09:01:14.508-08:00An Overused Phrase and it's Literal Translation.So, Gary has this thing he likes to say. He says it when there is an empty seat at the table, food not eaten, or an extra serving of something. He likes to say those things are "for Jesus". No, he's not actually setting a place at the table for Jesus. He's being very tongue-in-cheek. Yeah, I know, Gary being cheeky. Who could believe that?! Anyway, the other night, it caught up to him. He was being quite naughty with himself. Craving Crown Burger and wondering just how far he could push his dietary limits. Crown Burger seemed to be okay, so he branched out to Irish Cream, that was okay too. Cream in his coffee, um....maybe not so okay. But how to be sure? Definitely not by using the better part of a pint in a weekend. Yeah, that's how he rolls. He thinks big and he goes for the gusto. If a little bit is good, a lot is better. He's that way with EVERYTHING! And, it's one of the things I love about him, it really is. But he quickly realized the error in judgement on the cream and coffee issue. Next, he tried leftover Bierocks...I never realized how much he truly liked them. They probably would have been okay, if he hadn't followed them with half a bag of chocolate chips! While he and Neil were sharing the chocolate chips, Neil surprised him by taking one chip and setting it on the table...and declaring it was "for Jesus". Now that I look at it, he just might have been trying to keep it away from Gary. But, Gary thought it was pretty funny, so he called me at work to tell me what happened. It was funny. I had to laugh. When I got home that night, Neil met me at the bottom of the stairs. We were going over the homework and talking about his day, when he saw the chocolate chip still on the table. He said "Jesus didn't eat his chocolate chip." I had to say, "And, he probably won't" to which he replied "Why?" .....um yes, why? The first thing into my head was that He's dead. But, that's not exactly true. So, I did the parental thing and changed the subject. The next morning I saw the chip still there. Surprised? I am a bit, it was sitting at Gary's place on the table...he had eaten breakfast right in that very spot. But, I guess he was feeling crappy enough from the previous night of indulgence that it didn't even look good. So, since it was there, I ate it. And felt guilty. I didn't want Neil to think that Jesus had stopped by in the middle of the night to eat the chocolate chip. He's not Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or the Tooth Fairy. He doesn't need to work under cover of darkness, while all are sleeping. I put another in it's place. When Neil came downstairs, he saw it. He gave it a look, then gave me a look. I said "Jesus still didn't eat the chocolate chip." So, Neil did. And he smiled big when he did it. I did have to point out to him that when some people set that extra place at the table, it is for Jesus. But, they know He won't actually be joining them. It's more of a reminder. A reminder to share what we have with those who have less. A reminder that there is always something we can share. Time, friendship, the warmth of our home, a meal, and maybe even a chocolate chip. He's a good kid, he got it.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-88373325494409479742010-01-06T09:53:00.000-08:002010-01-06T11:06:37.458-08:002009 the year in ReviewOkay, so I know this is a bit late. And may seem less important, since it isn't the first post of the new year. To be honest, I'm terrible at uploading photos. But, since I've realized that I don't have to post photos, or very many, since the first half of the year is already taken care of... here it is.<br /><br />January<br />Walking with Dinosaurs and the first visit from Tooth Fairy. Since then, he's lost four more teeth.<br /><br />February<br />The passing of my dad.<br /><br />March<br />Spring violin recital.<br /><br />April<br />Tour of the Depot bike race. A race for Gary, right in our very own neck of the woods. Not my favorite way to spend Easter. But, hey...it was some great outside time. And the weather on Sunday was sooo much nicer than the weather on Saturday...burr!!<br /><br />May<br />A school field trip to the zoo, with Dad. Farewell to a small violin, and hello to a bigger one. Last day of Kindergarden.<br /><br /><br />June<br />State Road Race Championships in Clarkston. Intermountain Suzuki Strings Institute.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL81FCWVQh_mflLUDHIYys2fp1s0exJ7mJiGOs2NCjzwYXAflJngNU6eiIr3rnC4cErQWgLgSIoglqkZoZTXlayHTR8PfVbLeIy1NGQ_SoP7pr5gq4m6dfACzg_aUQ4qz6h46BPWavnCbQ/s1600-h/IMG_0014.JPG"></a><br /><br />July<br />Swim Lessons!!!<br /><br />August<br />Camping and First Grade.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuE6PQuZBk-5HPshBwqPWQ-0CN7h4Tr4sVbmpBJCuX6eK_eDwocYJbDmhLelwuoTvZHfO7LWjMK4CBxofyJVZw_vyxcybha5Ir93JuAdiwMD_mtwOstOtw1U-XEWAJ0kJQTM6LIYyIoiPi/s1600-h/IMG_0098.JPG"></a><br /><br />September<br />Soldier Hollow Classic sheepdog trials and Splash dogs. The third year up for Neil and me, fun stuff!<br /><br />October<br />That month long celebration of Halloween. School carnival, Benson Grist Mill Pumpkin Walk and party, Halloween HighJinks with the Utah Symphony, Halloween violin recital, Wheeler Farm cyclocross race, trick-or-treating, and the FLU...even swine flu, we think....we didn't actually go to the doctor for the diagnosis. What's up with folks that do that, anyway? You're sick, go to bed!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFERwYOAL5lMDj-_0S-422D4oLCJXbaaBVEb2vfAxkuk5bu1-YtJxOLEV7LKmccC7JNn86wrT-3tCFZk7gfMpuOqaw4gUuUTCe3enIzNc3sNEEYMZIrX_jhI2j63TB9O5Z1u6enp79FP9/s1600-h/IMG_0042.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423699214672556018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFERwYOAL5lMDj-_0S-422D4oLCJXbaaBVEb2vfAxkuk5bu1-YtJxOLEV7LKmccC7JNn86wrT-3tCFZk7gfMpuOqaw4gUuUTCe3enIzNc3sNEEYMZIrX_jhI2j63TB9O5Z1u6enp79FP9/s320/IMG_0042.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczcG7mtWg5JI-8-Sw2doMACALZC4YtlUIe8HA1Of9yWCkV0d-KU9l0X0armdecvkPXnuxYwnacC8o5TEPsbc5QPqrRYIBvLXvGUUJ4ahso_3GRm-__SEsyeMr1lY4SEG3jQF8-SDtNfXZ/s1600-h/IMG_0083.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423699700409537026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczcG7mtWg5JI-8-Sw2doMACALZC4YtlUIe8HA1Of9yWCkV0d-KU9l0X0armdecvkPXnuxYwnacC8o5TEPsbc5QPqrRYIBvLXvGUUJ4ahso_3GRm-__SEsyeMr1lY4SEG3jQF8-SDtNfXZ/s320/IMG_0083.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczcG7mtWg5JI-8-Sw2doMACALZC4YtlUIe8HA1Of9yWCkV0d-KU9l0X0armdecvkPXnuxYwnacC8o5TEPsbc5QPqrRYIBvLXvGUUJ4ahso_3GRm-__SEsyeMr1lY4SEG3jQF8-SDtNfXZ/s1600-h/IMG_0083.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZouNf86khscfeuwf4UGs-G5dnWE7id4McoaUax5plyvsokfvRZ0N8fge0zO_pzn14I_2NtxjP3sQlQJ6ZW66oDmOXWCd0mabJsmxYKxSt71KwKkNwPtMRKOw7Aw2PZ_ANgYS0vJ_MxlE/s1600-h/IMG_0059.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423699492181009602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZouNf86khscfeuwf4UGs-G5dnWE7id4McoaUax5plyvsokfvRZ0N8fge0zO_pzn14I_2NtxjP3sQlQJ6ZW66oDmOXWCd0mabJsmxYKxSt71KwKkNwPtMRKOw7Aw2PZ_ANgYS0vJ_MxlE/s320/IMG_0059.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />November.<br />Quiet Thanksgiving at home. SCD friendly for Gary, and ultra yummy for everybody. The find of a pie that Neil loved...German Apple. Once again saying farewell to a small violin and hello to a larger one. And a son that thinks my cooking should be 'interviewed'. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2leotWaWqTAxveYxRfRP3UjVq0xljIQYpf0wW70gw351hfOXhXvt_IMkqO-Qmk0pLrXzjuUnZWXiXYd5BlE6g578w7kX-11dpJ-23jr3_TjiufIy9N4cRiTme7HE4iyi0acf2AgRf9vZ/s1600-h/IMG_0125.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423699970263245474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2leotWaWqTAxveYxRfRP3UjVq0xljIQYpf0wW70gw351hfOXhXvt_IMkqO-Qmk0pLrXzjuUnZWXiXYd5BlE6g578w7kX-11dpJ-23jr3_TjiufIy9N4cRiTme7HE4iyi0acf2AgRf9vZ/s320/IMG_0125.JPG" /></a><br /><br />December.<br />Christmas violin performance at Tooelel City Hall, complete with visit with Santa. Birthday lunch at Joe's Crabshack with Mom and Grandma. Thinking that would suffice for birthday dinner, only to hear a muttered..."today's not my birthday." A freshly turned 7 year old. A new Red Ryder BB gun and salmon and shrimp dinner for his birthday. Winter vacation from school...I never knew somebody that young could be so Excited to not have to go to school!! Christmas!!! And as Neil put it when asked: "Did you get a lot of presents for Christmas?" shoulder shrug..."no, not really. But it was good." And a really fun New Year's Eve. Second viewing of Avatar...took my mom this time, visit to Gary's mom, Gary's first Crown Burger in 3 years...and ta da! This time it DID NOT make him sick!! YAY!! Lots of New Year's Eve fun that lasted until New Year's morning with Kim, Paul, and Bryce.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUg2A2XOukOda3ri6FqjCAbbOIyjo9GT9ib6sQZI6eLVoMbe-_vBuIEVv_jR-FtoV3cEtanXSiUqoc3oNezQt9UZnFRenIhkPZ5c8G6rmYmLxABmQztAJk5NTiXv67v9SAJPRpWH0Twob9/s1600-h/IMG_0169.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423700744084950114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUg2A2XOukOda3ri6FqjCAbbOIyjo9GT9ib6sQZI6eLVoMbe-_vBuIEVv_jR-FtoV3cEtanXSiUqoc3oNezQt9UZnFRenIhkPZ5c8G6rmYmLxABmQztAJk5NTiXv67v9SAJPRpWH0Twob9/s320/IMG_0169.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20T2oo1OK5K-rNBjFiZ9ktJumLk1BseVBByKhCO8KTlxI2A-NMogALujKrnlNZatHjP9jJ1ppLbFvejakdHDRwYfSr_eTvaPkspUd7_eEZJIDOrLPkAJgSL0PF-8KsEam2pq6qNmU4nii/s1600-h/IMG_0175.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423700539615529394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20T2oo1OK5K-rNBjFiZ9ktJumLk1BseVBByKhCO8KTlxI2A-NMogALujKrnlNZatHjP9jJ1ppLbFvejakdHDRwYfSr_eTvaPkspUd7_eEZJIDOrLPkAJgSL0PF-8KsEam2pq6qNmU4nii/s320/IMG_0175.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36VItwjsSeJgfXgSbUgYUQAaYWGjuCcuD4D_2H-dKJtrXEnhaw5sviy5CGyEfpj70N576gg-cHsCTOXMJf5Ern6DXhWw_kNzZi7M6db0EybDIMLalTDhWGvt7GuAL7qgWHDDWFSzY09ME/s1600-h/IMG_0191.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423703756331204738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36VItwjsSeJgfXgSbUgYUQAaYWGjuCcuD4D_2H-dKJtrXEnhaw5sviy5CGyEfpj70N576gg-cHsCTOXMJf5Ern6DXhWw_kNzZi7M6db0EybDIMLalTDhWGvt7GuAL7qgWHDDWFSzY09ME/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br />Looking back, I realize that I was able to do almost one small post monthly. I'm better than I thought I was.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-38360859288170272082010-01-06T08:17:00.000-08:002010-01-06T09:16:34.195-08:00SconesI started a <a href="http://more4lessofme.blogspot.com/">diet</a> on Monday, but yesterday I had a crazy craving for scones. Anyway, it was more than a craving, it was a compulsion to bake something yummy. I was thinking raspberry, but opted for oatmeal with currants. One recipe makes eight scones. I took four to work to share with co-workers. Kept four at home, one for Neil, and freeze the other three. Not a bad way to indulge, right? The house smelled so good, I wish you had smelivision, as Gary is fond of saying.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBXKMp9kGLjuXYi_jyor20q5sC1RZt24G6r_YJMYj46pbUL6QDFQmjPKXPL-pDb2yZmCCPgGSs4UeKXNO2QEojNFe76xFTJMM2qmPC4bCCqecvgSgn_jQtzV1XPeuFZUW8y-HzpXBb_ax/s1600-h/IMG_0209.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423672470526498242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBXKMp9kGLjuXYi_jyor20q5sC1RZt24G6r_YJMYj46pbUL6QDFQmjPKXPL-pDb2yZmCCPgGSs4UeKXNO2QEojNFe76xFTJMM2qmPC4bCCqecvgSgn_jQtzV1XPeuFZUW8y-HzpXBb_ax/s320/IMG_0209.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And since Kim wants the recipe. Here it is.<br /><br />Oatmeal Currant Scones<br /><br />1 and 1/2 C flour<br />1 C old-fashioned rolled oats<br />1/3 C firmly packed dark brown sugar<br />2 and 1/2 teaspoons baking powder<br />1/2 teaspoon salt<br />1 Tablespoon cinnamon<br />1/2 C unsalted butter, chilled<br />1 large egg<br />1/4 C milk<br />2 Tablespoons molasses<br />1 Tablespoon vanilla<br />1 Cup currants<br /><br />Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Lightly butter a 10-inch-diameter circle in the center of a baking sheet.<br />In a large bowl, combine flour, oats, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add egg, milk, molasses and vanilla. Stir to combine. Add currants.<br />Spread dough into an 8-inch-diameter circle in the center of the baking sheet. With a serated knife, cut into 8 wedges. Bake at 22 to 27 minutes, or until knife or toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Place baking sheet on wire rack and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Recut wedges, if necessary.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-41892950824081441642010-01-05T09:12:00.000-08:002010-01-05T09:20:08.936-08:00Well?? How Good are You?Gary sent me this poem yesterday, and I love it. If you know me very well, you can guess it brought tears to my eyes.<br /><br /><a name="main"></a><br /><span style="color:#660000;">Almost as Good<br />As Your Dog<br /><br />If you can start the day without caffeine,<br />If you can get going without pep pills,<br />If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,<br />If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,<br />If you can eat the same food everyday and be grateful for it,<br />If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time.<br />If you can overlook it when those you love take it out on you,<br />If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,<br />If you can ignore a friend's limited education and never correct him,<br />If you can resist treating a rich friend better than an poor friend,<br />If you can face the world without lies and deceit,<br />If you can conquer tension without medical help,<br />If you can relax without liquor,<br />If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,<br />If you can say honestly that deep in your heart you have no prejudice against creed, color, religion or politics, THEN, my friend, you are almost as good as your dog.<br /><br />Author Unknown </span><br /><span style="color:#663300;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663300;"></span>bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-83596790739600583122010-01-01T12:09:00.000-08:002010-01-01T12:18:25.751-08:00LaughterIt's good to know what people see in us. Last night, as I listened to Gary and Kim talk about me, I was pleased with what they were saying. They were talking about the way I laugh. And the things that make me laugh. For somebody who has never been overly fond of my own laugh, it was good to hear. They never once mentioned that I cackle like a witch, they never brought up the Betty Rubble giggle. They talked about the near to tears laughter. That laugh that comes from somewhere deep inside and uses more energy that a good work-out. As Gary calls it, me sharing my joy with those around me. I love knowing that laughter is one of the memories I leave with people. So, that said, here's to more living, more laughter, and more love in 2010. Happy New Year.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-33794294251112925542009-12-31T06:47:00.000-08:002010-01-01T12:18:57.534-08:00The Bizarre World of the SleepingIt's funny the things we do in our sleep. From time to time, Neil will walk into our room, in his sleep. I have been known to laugh to the point of hysteria in my sleep. Gary and I have woken ourselves up mid-conversation in our sleep. Punches have even been thrown in our sleep. Last night, Neil took a left turn out of his bedroom instead of a right. Making our room, not the bathroom, the destination point. Weren't we surprised awake by the sound of his mid-sleep whizzing. Gary was startled into full wakefulness, and turning on the light, witnessed the wee little event. This in turn brought on a bout of near-hysterical laughing from me. While I remember laughing myself into full wakefulness, I hope Neil does not remember his little mid-sleep piss-up....uh, I mean slip-up.<br /><br />OH, and a big thank-you Gary, for being the one awake enough to clean it up. I knew I loved you for the right reasons.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-58381758167478485582009-12-29T18:04:00.000-08:002009-12-29T21:27:42.070-08:00Geography Lesson Needed.....For the month of December, leading up to Christmas, Macey's grocery store had an extremely nice man wandering around the store in a Santa Claus suit. I thought he was creepy. Not in a Billy Bob Thornton "Bad Santa" kind of way, but in an "I don't want my child sitting on his lap kind of way". Anyway, I was curious to see what Neil would think of him. He's usually pretty grounded in the fact that store Santas are just guys in Santa suits helping the Big Guy out. Not so with this one! Neil was certain that he was "one of the real Santas". Yup. Apparently there's more than one. In Neil's opinion, there are four or, "One for every continent", so he says.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-28577664410706080122009-12-22T06:14:00.000-08:002009-12-22T06:18:34.285-08:00Moving ForwardLast night for dinner we had spaghetti and broccoli. I thought this was no problem, Neil has always loved both, and though Gary can't eat the pasta or the sauce, he does his own thing with the meat. Anyway, all was going well. Until Gary told Neil he had to eat his broccoli. That sparked a series of gagging and pained looking facial expressions from Neil. Gary reminded him that he's always liked broccoli, to which Neil replied "I'm evolving here!" Later he explained that his taste buds are evolving backward, and he no longer likes the broccoli "blossoms", and he did point out that he ate the "stumps". Good to know.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-38892408586320129262009-12-16T08:56:00.000-08:002009-12-29T21:02:43.713-08:00Maybe My Favorite Christmas Story.There's a story from WWI about British troops and German troops calling an "informal armistice" on Christmas Eve of 1914. German troops began by decorating around their trenches and singing Christmas carols. Most notably "Silent Night" or "Stille Nacht". British troops responded by singing English carols. Greetings and gifts were exchanged. They gave proper burial to their dead and both sides mourned together. They played soccer. In many sectors, this truce lasted until Christmas Day and in some areas it lasted until New Year's Day. There would be other informal treaties during that war, but none of the same size.<br /><span style="color:#6633ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#660000;">A Carol from Flanders<br />by Frederick Niven<br /><br />In Flanders on the Christmas morn<br />The trenched foemen lay,<br />the German and the Briton born,<br />And it was Christmas Day.<br /><br />The red sun rose on fields accurst,<br />The gray fog fled away;<br />But neither cared to fire the first,<br />For it was Christmas Day!<br /><br />They called from each to each across<br />The hideous disarray,<br />For terrible has been their loss:<br />"Oh, this is Christmas Day!"<br /><br />Their rifles all they set aside,<br />One impulse to obey;<br />'Twas just the men on either side,<br />Just men — and Christmas Day.<br /><br />They dug the graves for all their dead<br />And over them did pray:<br />And Englishmen and Germans said:<br />"How strange a Christmas Day!"<br /><br />Between the trenches then they met,<br />Shook hands, and e'en did play<br />At games on which their hearts were set<br />On happy Christmas Day.<br /><br />Not all the emperors and kings,<br />Financiers and they<br />Who rule us could prevent these things —<br />For it was Christmas Day.<br /><br />Oh ye who read this truthful rime<br />From Flanders, kneel and say:<br />God speed the time when every day<br />Shall be as Christmas Day.<br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#6633ff;"></span>bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-52454806961366376972009-12-14T04:48:00.000-08:002009-12-14T05:40:23.253-08:00WOW...Has it Really Been 7 Years?!!!So, lunch with my mom went well. Expensive, but well. I managed to calm down and live in the moment. Kids are great reminders that we should do that. And, the weather stayed my version of drive-able.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghq8UkMwlNOYxwlfotem01-YES32mbJcosedtnWwMky3Am_KlkmAOhswNNxybcldPHB5YFWh1PE6oCVqpqAI31-xaTIS9oR9uwVC4F2iquCh1Ma7B3YF_YMN7vWsRZoywyWy5M0nQSog0f/s1600-h/IMG_0138.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415082178878021650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghq8UkMwlNOYxwlfotem01-YES32mbJcosedtnWwMky3Am_KlkmAOhswNNxybcldPHB5YFWh1PE6oCVqpqAI31-xaTIS9oR9uwVC4F2iquCh1Ma7B3YF_YMN7vWsRZoywyWy5M0nQSog0f/s320/IMG_0138.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Yesterday was Neil's seventh birthday, and I have a question. Does anybody have any hard and fast rules about when is the right time to open presents? Gary took the day off, I was already off, and Neil was out of school...since it was Sunday, and all. Anyway, he woke up early...and very excited. He did great getting through breakfast, his strange request was oatmeal. Then, he started asking if he could open his presents. Gary's so programmed that it should be after dinner, that he didn't quite know what to say. He's not used to everybody being home in the morning. So, he kept giving his famous "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Afta</span>" answer. To which Neil would ask "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Afta</span> what??" Which leads to "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Afta</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">afta</span>..." not what the newly turned 7 year old was wanting to hear. We settled for "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">afta</span> cake", which would be after lunch. So, we passed the time with television and polishing pennies. Neil has a special "log cabin" penny, that as he calls it is, one of his "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">luckies</span>". And, he wanted to see how shiny it could be. Which gave Gary the idea that it would be fun to have a "lucky penny" from his <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">birthyear</span>. 1973. He thought it would be a quest. He didn't <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">knw</span> that we had 3 of them in a can of change. Sadly enough, I can't find a 1970 penny in any of that. Did they even make pennies in 1970? It's amazing how long a person can spend polishing change, if one lets oneself. Neil got bored after about an hour. And was back at it..."can I just open one?" Time to make lunch. "When can we have cake?", "You just said you were full...let's wait 45 minutes", "Is it 45 minutes yet?", "When this is over". Good call Gary, an hour long program about Russia's Ural mountain (which oddly enough, sucked Neil in just as well as Gary). And yes, it was time to open presents. He'd been guessing as to what they were all morning. And was pleased to find, not bath beads, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">BBs</span>. Not a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">paver</span> stone, but a very large book about prehistoric life. Sadly not night vision goggles, but new shoes. And the box that could only be a stick, or maybe two sticks, was a Red Ryder BB gun. The mystery box, that wouldn't even get a guess, was that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Screature</span> that he's been asking for since April.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRFgUhvcOxWIeHs2pGL42mpgffsyXndullTYQ03hmyTCR9VOt511PuZyGQ_uu26i_sBFJpFPTmjZgnrfaC6u0aC8M5FYWo7RiXLk3ffwH-gnJSklI8ztLgLHZa7VCHmnndNb084wZzdfZ/s1600-h/IMG_0140.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 235px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415082403922150978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRFgUhvcOxWIeHs2pGL42mpgffsyXndullTYQ03hmyTCR9VOt511PuZyGQ_uu26i_sBFJpFPTmjZgnrfaC6u0aC8M5FYWo7RiXLk3ffwH-gnJSklI8ztLgLHZa7VCHmnndNb084wZzdfZ/s320/IMG_0140.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2BHjNyn7W_jmGudIukb2OeteI3h7ZtiL22PNTlbcYtSBZAh1psOYyp08XEew5rvvtSD55dlGp_nXx3tiT9tYdK4O3U35Hl9LheTs_iPfIeKtmB0CjeEkLC7U2wRkrTrXyuyq7xhf0Mjt/s1600-h/IMG_0144.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415082917411548530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2BHjNyn7W_jmGudIukb2OeteI3h7ZtiL22PNTlbcYtSBZAh1psOYyp08XEew5rvvtSD55dlGp_nXx3tiT9tYdK4O3U35Hl9LheTs_iPfIeKtmB0CjeEkLC7U2wRkrTrXyuyq7xhf0Mjt/s320/IMG_0144.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapSDsToKDuCHRHtpJ9MOB5kskWgfkDVjRp3GF6heLMMRZPz7OpSb-tyN0h4C2eurHKlEKg1acLWLzAgFcomIqLRaUwURYrgC2NrFltb5sxWSKy6qtcllriiIiEjY-2RsKreYS5T_lQpXO/s1600-h/IMG_0146.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415082737648261234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapSDsToKDuCHRHtpJ9MOB5kskWgfkDVjRp3GF6heLMMRZPz7OpSb-tyN0h4C2eurHKlEKg1acLWLzAgFcomIqLRaUwURYrgC2NrFltb5sxWSKy6qtcllriiIiEjY-2RsKreYS5T_lQpXO/s320/IMG_0146.JPG" /></a><br /><br />He told us several times that it was his best birthday EVER!! Good words to hear on a quiet day that didn't see company or a party. After some time checking out the new stuff, he went shooting with Dad, to make proper use of a shoe box and completely demolish a peanut butter jar. Apparently <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">BBs</span> will get trapped in a glass jar, until it's shot enough times that it completely shatters. Some more telling Dad that it was the best birthday ever, and they were home.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1kgxWG-j-LmNwKE-bRB1IStu6-LmfKG4t215Gjh0plJuPDLVEdLdPa5kPO-2LuSYBKWwSAtUACvIUOySaO4etw-tfCYS9vXgh0pPUXkLdheEGScC28D6aEBS-J_4DqWSGspx5VPfD74P/s1600-h/IMG_0151.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415083090204254818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1kgxWG-j-LmNwKE-bRB1IStu6-LmfKG4t215Gjh0plJuPDLVEdLdPa5kPO-2LuSYBKWwSAtUACvIUOySaO4etw-tfCYS9vXgh0pPUXkLdheEGScC28D6aEBS-J_4DqWSGspx5VPfD74P/s320/IMG_0151.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlcHjMjaPbh-85sdXGy3qBQ00zXXJsqbHKKOhwrWrzjK81zwysmj-b3Aw_LpIVzJH4Ify1p6t3IKaD23ANhXKNLB0M_VlIIB1guVeC7NPdIjdeAAD6UOO5OkZvNdqK5t061x5A6Baj2lbO/s1600-h/IMG_0152.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415083199113871778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlcHjMjaPbh-85sdXGy3qBQ00zXXJsqbHKKOhwrWrzjK81zwysmj-b3Aw_LpIVzJH4Ify1p6t3IKaD23ANhXKNLB0M_VlIIB1guVeC7NPdIjdeAAD6UOO5OkZvNdqK5t061x5A6Baj2lbO/s320/IMG_0152.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />I was planning on lunch with my mom being his birthday meal, but after hearing an under his breath "today's not my birthday", I decided I had better come up with something on the actual day of. "What do you want for your birthday dinner?" went from a seafood medley to surprise me. Well, when he put it that way....It was baked salmon, shrimp scampi, and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">SCD</span> friendly coleslaw. YUM! After dinner he watched what seemed like four back to back episodes of "Battle of the Dinosaurs" on Discovery Channel (<em>how did</em> <em>they know</em>?) with his dad, spent an hour looking at the new book, with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Screature</span> sitting next to him, and still wanted me to read about dinosaurs when it was time for bed. Yep, I think he had a great birthday. But wow, he's seven, already? Where does the time go?bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-22393814334628467082009-12-12T09:00:00.000-08:002009-12-12T09:07:55.331-08:00Seriously?!Sometimes nobody pisses me off quite like my mom!! When I say I don't like driving in the snow, I mean it. And she knows it.<br /> My idea of not wanting to drive into Salt Lake when it's snowing, is if I can't see the mountains from my kitchen window. So, last night, I called to say that we're still on for lunch. I mean the snow is supposed to be spotty until this evening, right? Anyway, I get a call this morning asking if we're still going, because....it's windy. I never said anything about driving in the wind....it's the snow! Don't tell me you understand, then call me and be all sarcastic about 'the wind'. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Geez</span>!! Now, I just hope I can calm down enough to make lunch worth it. It's supposed to be fun...taking Neil to Joe's Crab <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Shack</span> for his birthday. Her getting to see her grandson is a bonus.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-1468598895209493702009-11-26T20:58:00.000-08:002009-11-26T21:07:32.183-08:00Food Blog??Today, Neil told me it would be cool if somebody came to the house and interviewed my cooking, because he thinks it would be good to give me some "stars". I'm thinking he means that it would be cool if somebody reviewed my cooking. He likes to think of me as a chef...go figure! Well, this sparked conversation between him and Gary, about how I don't tell anybody that I cook. I mean, that seems the standard, doesn't it? I'm married and have a family, therefore, I cook...right? I'm guessing he means that I don't brag about what I do in the kitchen. So, let me just tell you. Food is a friend. And, believe me, the way I'm built, it must be a very good friend! But, all joking aside, when you prepare food, it's like you're giving breath to a living thing. The way yeast reacts to sugar and warm water. The way anything reacts to seasoning. You get instant results for the effort you put in, a lovely concept, in my mind. This all led to Gary suggesting a food blog. I honestly have no idea how to get started.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-59846258541550052172009-11-26T05:34:00.000-08:002009-11-26T05:39:19.689-08:00Happy Birthday GrandmaLast night, I was looking at some family history stuff that my dad gave me. And, I found out that today is my grandmother's birthday. So....Happy Birthday Grandma. Wherever you are. I hope you know that I am thinking about you, and that I love you. She would've been 94 today. It's hard to believe she was so young when she left. Yes, in my opinion 66 is young...too young. <br />Miss you Grandma.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-49633253519881013642009-09-28T09:28:00.001-07:002009-09-28T09:42:51.301-07:00Dog in the Sky on an Autumn MorningI had a great opportunity this morning at 4:30, to get up early and sit on the patio with Gary. We had binoculars, star chart, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">laser</span> pointer at hand. Our goal was to begin familiarizing ourselves with the sky. Constellations and brightest stars. It was fun. It was chilly and the coffee was good. I was moved beyond words by the first awareness of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Canis</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Major </span>and Sirius. The faithful hunting companion of Orion. The trusted dog who will forever and infinity be mid-stride near his master's heel. What a wonderful thought. And if we truly stop to think, isn't that where our beloved pets who are gone but not forgotten, remain in our hearts? When we picture them in our minds, do we see them as they were when they lay old and infirm, or do we see them in some mental snapshot, running for a ball, soaking up the sun, or just sitting by our side?bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-15428833316363726752009-09-15T13:22:00.001-07:002009-09-15T13:36:38.599-07:00My Part Time JobThe food is great, but the hours are kind of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">suckish</span>. <br /><br />So, Saturday there was no cooking, or even experimenting in the kitchen. Neil had a sleep over at his cousins, and Gary and I got to go on a date. Anyway, we got to see a movie...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Inglourious</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Basterds</span>. And can I just say, it's my new favorite. <br /><br />So, Sunday saw the Sauteed Chicken with brown <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">deglazing</span> sauce, Braised Onions, and Stuffed tomatoes with mushrooms and Swiss cheese. It all turned out okay, but I crowded the chicken...making it UGLY and burned the onions, making them taste rather onion-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ey</span>. And, remembered that I'm not a big fan of sauteed mushrooms. Oh well, Gary seemed quite pleased with it. Neil turned up his nose and ate <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">PBandJ</span>. On wheat, then complained that the bread had nuts in it...he's the one who likes wheat bread...not me. <br />Last night, I wanted something quick. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">HAHAHA</span>!!! It was raining and soup sounded good, so I thought a nice beef stew could work. It was 8pm when we finally sat down to it. I started it at 5:30. Yeah...beef stew is not quick. So, 3 hours of cooking, then sitting down to dinner, then another hour for clean-up. I think I've found my part time job. But, at least the soup was a hit. Neil LOVED it! Gary ate two bowls...surprised? And I am learning that just that little bit of extra effort in the kitchen can have huge payoffs in the quality department. But, if anybody asks me what I've been up to, then gives me that "you're really not that busy" look, I think I may have to smack them.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-63902436154292512222009-09-12T07:38:00.000-07:002009-09-12T07:53:45.357-07:00Cookin' Up Some YUM!I got two cookbooks a couple of days ago. Something to try to make cooking fun again. The Joy of Cooking by Erma <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Rombauer</span> and Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. Last night I tried a recipe from the Julia Child book. It was just a recipe for hamburgers, YES! Hamburgers...in a French cookbook. Anyway, I figured they would be easy and not too strange for the little taste buds here and not to dangerous for the ultra-sensitive stomach that I sometimes cook for. HOLY CROW!!! They were the BEST hamburgers I have ever eaten, much less made!! So, if anybody ever wonders....'why would I want a cookbook like that?' Let me tell you, the recipe on page 301 and the butter recipe (yes, that's right, butter recipe) on 101 are well worth the fact that you're making hamburgers from a recipe! Tonight, I'm trying a recipe for chicken in egg yolk and butter sauce with roasted tomatoes. And then going for a VERY LONG walk!!bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-8107795430202727102009-09-08T08:48:00.001-07:002009-09-12T07:54:35.971-07:00Sheep dogs, and Splash dogs, and Bagpipes.This past weekend was the Soldier Hollow Classic. It's becoming a family tradition at our house. Gary, Neil and I went up three years ago, Neil and I went up last year, and we all got to go up this year. Each year, we say that next year we're going to go for the whole thing, all four days of watching border collies herd sheep. Well, the past two years have seen us up there on only one day. This year saw us up there on two days. Maybe next year, if we don't make all four days, we'll at least manage one day of regular competition and Monday's grand championship finals. That would be nice.<br /><br /><br />Each year also leaves me with a fascination for the sport and a huge desire to learn how to do it. I become next to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">obsessed</span> with Border Collies for the following 9 months. And daydream about being born into a rural lifestyle of farming and animals. This year one of the competitors (she is also a photographer and painter who sells some of her artwork at the event) was talking to me while I was looking at some of the artwork she was selling. Anyway, when I told her that it looks so incredibly fun and amazing, and that I would love to do it. She asked me what was stopping me. My first response was that I didn't know how to get started. To that I was directed to a page in the event directory that gives phone numbers, e-mail addresses, and web-sites for just that kind of thing. I was also told to email her and she could answer questions that I may have. The next reason I gave was financial, to which I was told "It's cheaper than horses". The next reason I have, that I didn't find the voice for, was that I kind of always thought that was the kind of thing you had to be born into. And if not born into working stock dogs, at least born into farm life. Really, how does a person get started when they are stuck in the suburbs? Know next to nothing about sheep or cattle? And already have to terrific dogs in a community that will not allow a third? But, you can bet that I'm going to be reading and re-reading the web sites on the subject and buying a book or two....or twenty, as books seem to be a weakness of mine.<br /><br />Neil was a trooper hanging out in Saturdays wind and rain, and then again in Sunday's scorching sun. He got bored, and he let us know...very vocally. Saturday, he and I saw the sights. Wandered around finding 'lost sheep' for a give-away from Bank of the West. Free teddy bears for kids 12 and under. We also colored a picture for their coloring contest and free ice cream for the entrants. We ate some yummy Greek food, Neil got his first taste of lamb, and he loved it. Then when the herding was over, we watched the Splash Dogs. Neil's FAVORITE part of the weekend. He spent Sunday looking forward to when we could watch it again.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHczGzL0NAR2iHR6fe-PMlK1K5j96YYrd6M0Tj4zG1QXxu883u4lWg5Dr8Wrui48liYsWVe0GkMD5n3ORM_V5Th6PzpM5UctdbnG8fs_0Wpb1sstcCHdtnY7PO1XiUCGQgaObGA5bbBeT/s1600-h/IMG_0145.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379132451085048354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHczGzL0NAR2iHR6fe-PMlK1K5j96YYrd6M0Tj4zG1QXxu883u4lWg5Dr8Wrui48liYsWVe0GkMD5n3ORM_V5Th6PzpM5UctdbnG8fs_0Wpb1sstcCHdtnY7PO1XiUCGQgaObGA5bbBeT/s320/IMG_0145.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Sunday, I was determined to watch more of the herding that I was able to watch on Saturday.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWGEd81cQxeHvOxWXWsk0Nf6QTNcD4cgLdB4Rew1HLbBq_ciZpYAcjYypoExXYBgU_GRo6nzIyrhl9-4eT9g_aH2qRWWh3KWChFfm_BELOa52Yz8isRr02qHTBBWMwjZHOZ1edqVECqaZ/s1600-h/IMG_0152.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379133455521019762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWGEd81cQxeHvOxWXWsk0Nf6QTNcD4cgLdB4Rew1HLbBq_ciZpYAcjYypoExXYBgU_GRo6nzIyrhl9-4eT9g_aH2qRWWh3KWChFfm_BELOa52Yz8isRr02qHTBBWMwjZHOZ1edqVECqaZ/s320/IMG_0152.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWGEd81cQxeHvOxWXWsk0Nf6QTNcD4cgLdB4Rew1HLbBq_ciZpYAcjYypoExXYBgU_GRo6nzIyrhl9-4eT9g_aH2qRWWh3KWChFfm_BELOa52Yz8isRr02qHTBBWMwjZHOZ1edqVECqaZ/s1600-h/IMG_0152.JPG"></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjld2V4vEmcxaY7gOB1a3OiAQriaMZ0-oYg0-j7rRNpwLKyhhVozE_52H45PwShIDLTf2Aw0wmkYySBLeo2pHR1Xe8VJS5zTrVz15wOGoDGmS2YJburj-HW4YsClLiVYFSb9Lhx2cazrHTu/s1600-h/IMG_0166.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379134185465479522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjld2V4vEmcxaY7gOB1a3OiAQriaMZ0-oYg0-j7rRNpwLKyhhVozE_52H45PwShIDLTf2Aw0wmkYySBLeo2pHR1Xe8VJS5zTrVz15wOGoDGmS2YJburj-HW4YsClLiVYFSb9Lhx2cazrHTu/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Neil let me know how he felt about this, but he was pretty good about it. He watched the sheep through Gary's binoculars, tried to nap on the seat next to me, looked for grasshoppers, and colored. We watched dogs together as a family for quite a while, then he'd had enough. Time for lunch, a bit more watching, and then some wandering. We saw the "Wild Wonders" an exotic animal rescue that had some animals there. A fox, a tortoise, skunk, hedgehog, birds, and lizards. That tortoise was amazing. I thought they were supposed to be slow. But, she moved out quite quickly with a small flock of children following closely petting her shell, her leg, or whatever they could reach. We looked at booths of wool, Navajo blankets, dog products, pet adoptions, watched the sheep <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">herding</span> demonstration in the demonstration arena...complete with question and answer time. And saw the tail end of the "Ultimate Canines" dog show. That was fun. Neil got to pet a ginormous 1/2 standard poodle 1/2 great <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Pyrenees</span>. The dog looked almost like one of the sheep being herded on the hill. We listened to bagpipes (one of Neil's very favorite instruments)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx900yy57_hCsjDiRP5xmvDZXiTz1_oP-RlYv1JPnWp0xgDAfyeodKFIIfmc03FOagzVSLOVVmPl7YQXH8AQxbyxZwBYFOOCjltredlodabsUJLOX_gCG_4HnAKWODT0YwokI_nSB0AZvW/s1600-h/IMG_0142.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379135745523737650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx900yy57_hCsjDiRP5xmvDZXiTz1_oP-RlYv1JPnWp0xgDAfyeodKFIIfmc03FOagzVSLOVVmPl7YQXH8AQxbyxZwBYFOOCjltredlodabsUJLOX_gCG_4HnAKWODT0YwokI_nSB0AZvW/s320/IMG_0142.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Then it was time for something cold to drink and an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">attempt</span> at watching more herding. Gary and I decided to keep track of the scores as they were announced, and remember the names of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">handlers</span> and dogs that really stood out in our minds. When all of the competing was over, we went back up to the Splash Dogs go vertical. We watched dogs jump from 6-7 feet in the air for a toy that was clipped to a bar over their heads. More often than not, they caught it.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99EvUsia-xKCNO6pNl9VSItPPqxmY12STHWQElO7W6EeSTPyJ86vymJTdmNL2S5u4EXdCdvSUHH04AehRZ7W_F_kluDoWsjaX9qrwWqWFlh9DhDt5M0vAdn4Bdxt7VMEBC2vCkJQowiSt/s1600-h/IMG_0168.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379134718452263106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99EvUsia-xKCNO6pNl9VSItPPqxmY12STHWQElO7W6EeSTPyJ86vymJTdmNL2S5u4EXdCdvSUHH04AehRZ7W_F_kluDoWsjaX9qrwWqWFlh9DhDt5M0vAdn4Bdxt7VMEBC2vCkJQowiSt/s320/IMG_0168.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It was a fun way to get a sun burn. And, we're thinking about taking a family vacation to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ketchum</span></span>, Idaho in October for the Trailing of the Sheep Festival.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-85694866328948761662009-08-23T08:51:00.000-07:002009-08-23T09:39:47.109-07:00UGH!!!!!!Neil's first day of 1st Grade is tomorrow. TOMORROW!!! And, I am SO not ready. I feel like I could puke! Whatever happened to the little boy whos first word was "DOTT!", who called a spoon a "Moot", and who had to reach on tippy-toe to snatch the CamelBack's tube off of the counter? He looked so cute on his wee little toes getting a drink from that thing.<br />Oh well, like it or not, Neil's ready. He's so excited!! He whoops with joy when I give the countdown every morning.<br />--Is it always so difficult to show them excitement at the momentum in their life? When really, you just want to cry and hold them closer.--bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-9237714494646033322009-08-06T11:10:00.001-07:002009-08-06T18:21:01.953-07:00Swim LessonsI think I had a fish!! Neil absolutely LOVES water. And, daycare schedules a field trip to a swimming pool once a week for the entirety of summer vacation. This is a very frightening thing for me. So frightening, in fact, that it gave me nightmares. Strange nightmares. About poisonous snakes, not sure how that relates to my son in the water, but every time I'm worried about Neil, I have a dream about poisonous snakes. YUK!! So, I woke up with a firm conviction that Neil needed to be in swim lessons, and we, as a family needed to go swimming at least once a week.<br /><br />As soon as ISSI was over, I scheduled Neil for swim lessons. He spent the entire month of July in the water. I think between June 23 and July 30, he spent a total of 30 days in a swimming pool. 18 of those being lessons. I was prepared for another two weeks worth of lessons in August. But, after seeing the sheer exhaustion on my son's face, I bagged the idea. He can go back to lessons next summer. And, we can just make sure to get him to the pool once a week until then. <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjC0sRs6sqRzttI1Gx1HoV7QsKj7DFR61pXzmg9xghAMDk3XALVGYUnnv7Mw_5C7S02U2Y9bvH2kBSx4f7TV-y2DHgMjWxjqeI2kTb6dCCVtbTh9WOSwWPwoXxCYqZtJfI4Ql-CV0VWOe1/s1600-h/IMG_0075.jpg"></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjC0sRs6sqRzttI1Gx1HoV7QsKj7DFR61pXzmg9xghAMDk3XALVGYUnnv7Mw_5C7S02U2Y9bvH2kBSx4f7TV-y2DHgMjWxjqeI2kTb6dCCVtbTh9WOSwWPwoXxCYqZtJfI4Ql-CV0VWOe1/s1600-h/IMG_0075.jpg"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjC0sRs6sqRzttI1Gx1HoV7QsKj7DFR61pXzmg9xghAMDk3XALVGYUnnv7Mw_5C7S02U2Y9bvH2kBSx4f7TV-y2DHgMjWxjqeI2kTb6dCCVtbTh9WOSwWPwoXxCYqZtJfI4Ql-CV0VWOe1/s1600-h/IMG_0075.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366917123953035714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjC0sRs6sqRzttI1Gx1HoV7QsKj7DFR61pXzmg9xghAMDk3XALVGYUnnv7Mw_5C7S02U2Y9bvH2kBSx4f7TV-y2DHgMjWxjqeI2kTb6dCCVtbTh9WOSwWPwoXxCYqZtJfI4Ql-CV0VWOe1/s320/IMG_0075.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />He passed his level one, fairly easily. But then came level two. He does great with almost everything. The backstroke is the true test of coordination for him. And, we need to do some extra work for him to move on to level three.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfOGsTjH2Axu7bFco955lSP4E_qYNrV2XzFji_XDCV_fSPoG9MVcVl5r3Liic2PqWuA5TM-Z12zDU_8uvsiU7e6hdQglBYvLlZzcaqv_cjrrOqWNu90hNegWxFZwF-SpL2H8t9b2MPOMbQ/s1600-h/IMG_0078.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366917322483265218" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfOGsTjH2Axu7bFco955lSP4E_qYNrV2XzFji_XDCV_fSPoG9MVcVl5r3Liic2PqWuA5TM-Z12zDU_8uvsiU7e6hdQglBYvLlZzcaqv_cjrrOqWNu90hNegWxFZwF-SpL2H8t9b2MPOMbQ/s320/IMG_0078.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />(he's the splash)<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzGrs4OXdbi5pcprnirCb347HRWaO3yalSNk0NRY60DIE1PB53L1dk2UbSdhaBfEYGXT-zfhJvN8pJFPW229dmq9HOwd2D3kLdKVJHWv5kyNSAPXWtXpKx9KoKsRAeiJz1KMNrSb6cmJT/s1600-h/IMG_0079.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366917445787092866" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzGrs4OXdbi5pcprnirCb347HRWaO3yalSNk0NRY60DIE1PB53L1dk2UbSdhaBfEYGXT-zfhJvN8pJFPW229dmq9HOwd2D3kLdKVJHWv5kyNSAPXWtXpKx9KoKsRAeiJz1KMNrSb6cmJT/s320/IMG_0079.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7QEswBL_lNRffTkix8ZXcET_Z4uSPfLgq7STMRZeZPXFNsjcidThV6DPUQSEg0TNEJzZZC-UsNSLzSQHEpgiqnYA1MAbofsyBpLNPG_21BfNSmcESCIHZOeRE8ZGIQ6clfX0nPrXjN70/s1600-h/IMG_0081.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366917587504019362" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7QEswBL_lNRffTkix8ZXcET_Z4uSPfLgq7STMRZeZPXFNsjcidThV6DPUQSEg0TNEJzZZC-UsNSLzSQHEpgiqnYA1MAbofsyBpLNPG_21BfNSmcESCIHZOeRE8ZGIQ6clfX0nPrXjN70/s320/IMG_0081.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />He started the summer unsure of jumping into the pool, and the diving board was too scary to be contemplated. However, by the middle of July, that was no longer so daunting. He's even quite pleased with being able to stand on his hands under water.<br />Not exactly what he was learning during lessons, but something he felt was important enough to<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7QEswBL_lNRffTkix8ZXcET_Z4uSPfLgq7STMRZeZPXFNsjcidThV6DPUQSEg0TNEJzZZC-UsNSLzSQHEpgiqnYA1MAbofsyBpLNPG_21BfNSmcESCIHZOeRE8ZGIQ6clfX0nPrXjN70/s1600-h/IMG_0081.jpg"></a><br /><br />work on when the teacher wasn't<br />working with him directly.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-77400647659233301902009-08-06T10:37:00.000-07:002009-08-06T11:08:36.030-07:00Intermountain Suzuki Strings Institute 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwLdQY2BECoRlPGrCzFMkbke8xSSDn6cIfTcGfEz90ioDQ1yOwdLNL0u8BZsGCf5QAOshhzb2cel7ntL7IAhM4LcZusiBhBpCth_NqIuQAvIBiin1KTsfGl8H_MAw9G5nVkQ6lNoSwzj3/s1600-h/IMG_0039.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366913092416782194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwLdQY2BECoRlPGrCzFMkbke8xSSDn6cIfTcGfEz90ioDQ1yOwdLNL0u8BZsGCf5QAOshhzb2cel7ntL7IAhM4LcZusiBhBpCth_NqIuQAvIBiin1KTsfGl8H_MAw9G5nVkQ6lNoSwzj3/s320/IMG_0039.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Neil had kind of a summer camp violin thing in June. It's 6 days worth of violin related stuff. Four hours a day of classes, there was a technique class, a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">repertoire</span> class, a master class, and then his favorite of all a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Dalcroze</span> class (music and movement).</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7VbAFqdVlc7rNGZmEke5zPgqln_CizPXY4Zfx8mGJ0lskM5ttsvJ9SkSe9y_kInvzwwDyDeEw2Mtep2Fr0tRmqdxWBQsHcK3yX0YpyZ02KJm1zZHMnI7exyGbvR7VuSX8pVL0L02nPXc/s1600-h/IMG_0007.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366911483174043698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7VbAFqdVlc7rNGZmEke5zPgqln_CizPXY4Zfx8mGJ0lskM5ttsvJ9SkSe9y_kInvzwwDyDeEw2Mtep2Fr0tRmqdxWBQsHcK3yX0YpyZ02KJm1zZHMnI7exyGbvR7VuSX8pVL0L02nPXc/s320/IMG_0007.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>He enjoyed his technique class, </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepP5tWq46tRW_9hifRpYl3jiALuAjXwr-KMusoWycLRwMuMPX6pWqSP8-duDrdJ_KDBx2863Umq7HNifPWQzEBDJoOFJK8VHoHHQhhTEQpzgFs9za9ImQQzpv3uS1z6jhP6kVFKqBxpA2/s1600-h/IMG_0059.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366910035616961026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepP5tWq46tRW_9hifRpYl3jiALuAjXwr-KMusoWycLRwMuMPX6pWqSP8-duDrdJ_KDBx2863Umq7HNifPWQzEBDJoOFJK8VHoHHQhhTEQpzgFs9za9ImQQzpv3uS1z6jhP6kVFKqBxpA2/s320/IMG_0059.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-DWCWmObvUbfTG3fmwiy1J9O7maye-POHtkTvrfK6yOXBqbi3rQcgWlSYziFGZuY3ENSXL4YtiH6azVlZOslm2GtDK_qKJ2t3ShZlO7G006Z-rtF0WrqLL46wIV9LHCJhOfmd6wYXJOU/s1600-h/IMG_0008.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366909574304282722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-DWCWmObvUbfTG3fmwiy1J9O7maye-POHtkTvrfK6yOXBqbi3rQcgWlSYziFGZuY3ENSXL4YtiH6azVlZOslm2GtDK_qKJ2t3ShZlO7G006Z-rtF0WrqLL46wIV9LHCJhOfmd6wYXJOU/s320/IMG_0008.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>the teacher was very nice, though not his favorite of the summer. He verbally admitted to royally disliking his <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">repertoire</span> class. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsTAs9-f9bUwTV4xsM5Lex6TKbT0h5_CUCKY5AMhzTAjoaNlDhUofOIhP0LYPZ-cDzbal5QF7cJC_qOLu6VoQBJGqAtU7iFsDxjUd7quIQgKB8sUJXQsyQPka-WoopZnyCfYBu73yCIF9/s1600-h/IMG_0032.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366910637223661746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsTAs9-f9bUwTV4xsM5Lex6TKbT0h5_CUCKY5AMhzTAjoaNlDhUofOIhP0LYPZ-cDzbal5QF7cJC_qOLu6VoQBJGqAtU7iFsDxjUd7quIQgKB8sUJXQsyQPka-WoopZnyCfYBu73yCIF9/s320/IMG_0032.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>I thought the teacher was great, full of wonderful ideas, and she treated the kids with respect as well as treating them like adults. His master class teacher was the favorite of his teachers, and she really does rock! He had been working on his very favorite song for this class. It's "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" and it's still his favorite song. But, other than some comments to help improve his posture, a new shoulder rest, and hearing him play it a few times. That's not what he spent the majority of the week working on. He went back in the book a piece to work on "Song of the Wind" a nice little song full of short bows and bow lifts (circle bows). He's not a big fan of the short sticky bows, so that's what we got to work on all week. She had a great suggestion of putting clothes pins on his bow, to encourage short bows.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8y6q5oIm-g82x2OOVBoatPd7LbKBC2OwsaddMFMVexwO4s68-Gf6EfaaFWCmB5Sf25T6i90ZTrNd-6kwjcdL7X5TKc-a3_5H3hEg0xTbNvhfZiXm-r3qoamuc50PAVYXbdW11poBEiC2p/s1600-h/IMG_0014.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366910988485126738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8y6q5oIm-g82x2OOVBoatPd7LbKBC2OwsaddMFMVexwO4s68-Gf6EfaaFWCmB5Sf25T6i90ZTrNd-6kwjcdL7X5TKc-a3_5H3hEg0xTbNvhfZiXm-r3qoamuc50PAVYXbdW11poBEiC2p/s320/IMG_0014.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div>He went along with it, grudgingly. And for the time, the bows did get shorter. He still needs to be encouraged and reminded of the need and importance of short bows, and he will occasionally comply. At the end of the week there is a group recital. Where every kid at the institute plays the pieces that they know, on the stage with all of the other kids there. Sounds like fun. Unless yo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbP4BGbQLPkYcBjU5tJSUzt9KosKwF4CCDagUIIlx_Be4aaMlH6fKl7Kj3kh89HeDjVKhJyZl50hehJnGpgFtsjDjseqDjuoFBk4IA_hguOCgRfLM_8ETM_9teE1SmZaGIy2L8rHd8nUL/s1600-h/IMG_0072.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366911815436770242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbP4BGbQLPkYcBjU5tJSUzt9KosKwF4CCDagUIIlx_Be4aaMlH6fKl7Kj3kh89HeDjVKhJyZl50hehJnGpgFtsjDjseqDjuoFBk4IA_hguOCgRfLM_8ETM_9teE1SmZaGIy2L8rHd8nUL/s320/IMG_0072.jpg" /></a><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">u're</span> Neil. He really does not like performing. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIIsecQ9XMqBJEonjxG5hgxbIngnSV15mobKAE_JUJym0c3NorbbhsFQoluV3xeFv2nObD50EVMOwVrnT6nXqbxORrrkP0hVDmKseb9RqLMWDeKInmTwhzzO8E9j6QEFUxX9ieueZrK_U/s1600-h/IMG_0067.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366912188351637154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIIsecQ9XMqBJEonjxG5hgxbIngnSV15mobKAE_JUJym0c3NorbbhsFQoluV3xeFv2nObD50EVMOwVrnT6nXqbxORrrkP0hVDmKseb9RqLMWDeKInmTwhzzO8E9j6QEFUxX9ieueZrK_U/s320/IMG_0067.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So, this year, he didn't. He sat in the audience and watched, preparing for next year. During the week we got to see some wonderful <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">performances</span> of guest artists. There was Jenny Oaks Baker, The Aaron Ashton Band (Neil's favorite), and The Frye Street Quartet. As well as hearing music come from just about every pore of Juan Diego High School. While violins, violas, cellos, and even a bass or two practiced pieces for masters classes in the halls, parking lots, empty rooms, and courtyards. It was an amazing and humbling experience. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-28017429010712975862009-07-03T10:29:00.001-07:002009-07-03T10:51:59.702-07:00Learning Slowly.Some lessons are harder learned than others. And, last night, I learned a BIG one. Stay connected (in some way) to those people who make a difference in your life. Even if it is just that once a year holiday card. Someday, they won't be there.<br /><br />I used to board a horse at a barn. I made a lot of friends while I was there. And, sadly, have kept in touch with none of them. Thanks to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Internet</span> wonder of social networks, I have found two of them on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>. They were just young girls when I knew them. Now they are grown women with lives of their own. I adored their mother, she was one of those people I looked up to, and in small ways she had a huge impact on who I am. I found out last night, through too much time spent staring at the computer, that she passed away almost four years ago. It was quite a shocker. She will forever in my mind be young and healthy. Smiling and kind. A pattern to follow when things get a bit wild. She had a great sense of humor, and a love for her daughters that was unswayed by the phases that children are wired for. She seemed to have an ability for riding things out, knowing that things pass, but love remains. I have no idea what happened to take her from this world, it wasn't through <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">conversations</span> with her daughters that I found out. It was a google search of her name, that lead to an obituary archive from the Salt Lake Tribune. I did learn, through my shock, a little bit about immortality. Because that's what I think memories are. The shock that death cannot be real, because in your mind, you hear their words, see their smile, remember that last <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">conversation</span>.<br /><br />So, to all of my family and friends. I think of you all often, and I adore you all in the memories that I have.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-34217013487958353492009-06-14T09:03:00.001-07:002009-06-14T15:08:20.824-07:00Enjoying The Moment.Some of the best accomplishments are not your own. Rather, they are those we are fortunate enough to witness. On May 28, Gary and I got to be there for Neil's Kindergarten graduation. Afterward, there was an open-house in his classroom so the parents could see what the children had been up to all year. Though it was sad to see him aging before my eyes, it was a beautiful day. He was so pleased with himself, and so thoroughly living in the moment. Another great reminder of how children have a better view of things than we, the not<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKd8dQQhrDv7qKTA5I9Fye2mY8LA6RearajOZv57w7Hr9fBJAX4qz02gdFJ3xpTrj7_U26G3Hqk6Lqu5X3sDF2XiaTCE5uqp1gX5bwDrtpkf5aFZMX-ll5iq8w6T0dSmIetARBC6WBHaX/s1600-h/IMG_0009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347303849085951202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKd8dQQhrDv7qKTA5I9Fye2mY8LA6RearajOZv57w7Hr9fBJAX4qz02gdFJ3xpTrj7_U26G3Hqk6Lqu5X3sDF2XiaTCE5uqp1gX5bwDrtpkf5aFZMX-ll5iq8w6T0dSmIetARBC6WBHaX/s320/IMG_0009.jpg" border="0" /></a> so knowing parents! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZ_B-veallOp-OPDpeAEj02ZtN1PdM12eq9DcY6nlwTPVYNEutzizElYJiiPpVa5lKhyphenhyphen4njCLL-TPk8g1LJYSJi45dlnuGeiKUn7xF9vJyuUxZgXYj5yyn-K2gmlM-6eWIbkAMVN0EOsi/s1600-h/IMG_0004.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBqEUCi8a_i54yxyDXGdI3ZlFCRxXkhWez6yS8ou57TLlNmmtiDh-7xP1Y2rZyNLD3nX7hdioZtaKbOOYUN2OuOFVc7RW-IKRAjtYzbK33cMWy6YpFTzgkEA8_Ge6tcRGYCPDsoYbwPQy/s1600-h/IMG_0006.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVnuqGXU15WsiN_jbCgCLnkdiLqH3SgFMfUZIzbt42D8z43Tq5sJysSzr1DL8ZuSuZDHGCju8Qf_U-tPCkEh0uaI0rDkHi8qijAXsMcHR6wK1rzp2OK_EggbMjjNSaSNCe2uZIjii8t9xy/s1600-h/IMG_0006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347301321194903042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVnuqGXU15WsiN_jbCgCLnkdiLqH3SgFMfUZIzbt42D8z43Tq5sJysSzr1DL8ZuSuZDHGCju8Qf_U-tPCkEh0uaI0rDkHi8qijAXsMcHR6wK1rzp2OK_EggbMjjNSaSNCe2uZIjii8t9xy/s320/IMG_0006.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAo1aNnbeLufGDHhKjXXzfzfJySN25LNL_g76255KSm1C4BRKkR4i5mF7k7u5s1ejilD9ipFduhxQfqvWEVn_rkryUCOmQmlOZuCv9QEugyqhnBj2Dyb584jr-6ujssMOhlaagHwKPa-68/s1600-h/IMG_0004.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Another of those amazing days full of watching accomplishments, came yesterday. At a bike race of all places! I was lucky enough to be able to watch the State Road Race Championships in Clarkston. The original reason for dragging myself and Neil out of bed in the pre-dawn hours, was selfish and simple. I love that area.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347302051997939458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5u2oJFax96sGeX3hO45qs0Xh8ozrLd1DefPcUI8z4o_g4TpDFTL_ZypF5w_klL4fXADnO1zafuYEwwaFE37ud0FT1IhRF8cATedaHeRzYMNd4fmbH-dpFnSbq4ZqTJL6V5Uf3FiDM5j7g/s320/IMG_0019.jpg" border="0" /><br />Gary capitalized completely on that fact and thought it would be a fun day trip for the family. The trip almost didn't happen, as Gary was feeling some serious discouragement in the preceding week. A few too many nights of 3-4 hours of sleep can do that to a person. But, come Wednesday, he was feeling good and decided to register. I'm so glad he did.<br /><br />It was a beautiful day. Neil was pleasant and feeling adventurous. There were kind people who indulged him in conversation. There were hills for exploring, and dinosaur games for playing. He only asked me once when would it be over. And only said twice th<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoT1-eXl-YHMTJBmVP25JmecO7I-kER5AeYPNimKw-sT4ctVPZ6rEAy0FohMkfZ0AM28k7UkWYQaJUXX55RCFWoHo3Z5CzcdqZZbyNQz5gzZQmwQ751pymU4gTjZzqM1ua4GsQEYQ9jOfO/s1600-h/IMG_0020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347302452491641346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoT1-eXl-YHMTJBmVP25JmecO7I-kER5AeYPNimKw-sT4ctVPZ6rEAy0FohMkfZ0AM28k7UkWYQaJUXX55RCFWoHo3Z5CzcdqZZbyNQz5gzZQmwQ751pymU4gTjZzqM1ua4GsQEYQ9jOfO/s320/IMG_0020.jpg" border="0" /></a>at he wanted his dad.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcc7tktqtbHYX3J6Ur_xq5c1HxDTOjYLct52bQvJf7JeZdrOJJKaf312mvKrwr07y0ZFV39o8gPYSdMvfWRXH9Wz7Sv4IIuD98xqJAqgQfy9YonuPGdwk4V-LHEJMpdp2vTi7zsnMBYJF4/s1600-h/IMG_0016.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347302234275428210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcc7tktqtbHYX3J6Ur_xq5c1HxDTOjYLct52bQvJf7JeZdrOJJKaf312mvKrwr07y0ZFV39o8gPYSdMvfWRXH9Wz7Sv4IIuD98xqJAqgQfy9YonuPGdwk4V-LHEJMpdp2vTi7zsnMBYJF4/s320/IMG_0016.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p>I was able to watch the winning finish of a friend. He so deserved the victory. His enthusiasm at his accomplishment alone was worth the trip. I wish that as an adult. everyone could have that kind of excitement for something at least once, and then be able to pull out that memory when things get tough. He made me happier just by watching him. His joy in the moment was contagious. </p><p>Gary proved to me, once again, that even personal accomplishments are victories in their own right. He did not do well in the traditional sense of the word, he came in second to last. He did however relish in the energy he had for the remainder of the day. He did not come crawling across the finish line, he did not need me to drive him home, and he was pleasant and up for conversation and even took Neil to a movie later in the evening. That's something that wasn't always possible. In the past, when he would get home from a race, he was in the prone position drooling in front of the t.v as soon as he was cleaned up. I know that people look at him a little strange when he starts to talk about food restrictions. But, really if what he is doing works for him, GREAT! Lay off and go eat cake!<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347302686732547346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_V_W3n7_C-P5pXUFwHIgPzKEMVX-fJSkpBAktncLiTvo0avRcOr4KoD3WMiah0QS3ohtsbn7u6yIul9Ec0UaWg6qEEIPrP6azLGvhH_igUoHGh9H8WHOvs-AA0mEx_EdI9uJ-YCRh2aA/s320/IMG_0033.jpg" border="0" /> Later in the evening my mom and her girlfriend took me to a wine-tasting class (I'm sorry, I know they are married, but calling her my mom's wife does not come easily. It's just a personal flaw on my part). I get the feeling this was probably something my mom has wanted to do with me ever since I was the little girl who would beg for tastes from her glass. It was so much fun. Do you know that wine can honestly taste like Asiago cheese? Or smell so good, you would rather smell it than taste it? But, make sure you taste it...you will not be disappointed! Some wine can smell like menthol (but not in a yucky medicine way). Or, did you know that if you drink apple ale really fast, you can truly taste the apples?<br /><br />Anyway! Yesterday was one of the fun, perfectly balanced kind of days, when it really pays to keep your eyes open and your heart soft. Just letting everything around you soak in. Some days it's good to be a sponge.bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-70569363949847878952009-05-25T11:10:00.000-07:002009-05-25T13:42:26.396-07:00I've Got A Trot For That!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCmyIZ3fmwV_bSL1sHocsgGP0yL-nKw3RsbUihWJkCIi8XeGYJlFSQNy5bIL-_YTgQ0bDJRj1ruARlhh_-hv2EXDcY9ObzZ3ppvZG8NL_l9g0d5GKrsS3zW9ATI7cuxK2b009T6oj1hkj/s1600-h/IMG_0002.JPG"></a><div><div>I've been lucky enough to be able to ride my horse 3 out of the last 6 days. Y<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0g_ceJAXw0crgWKzsUEbb3B-2ozOp-YyfF0YEkH9eVBtBLU1ybmQy9VaY551M6JaZIw7fhlZEZFxM8WibkhRs27pfF0vhyphenhyphenIfdwjVBgW7_RTj_j1CiePWKnQCsZypNLd4Xr_loALucFEAv/s1600-h/IMG_0011_edited.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339832215847848642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0g_ceJAXw0crgWKzsUEbb3B-2ozOp-YyfF0YEkH9eVBtBLU1ybmQy9VaY551M6JaZIw7fhlZEZFxM8WibkhRs27pfF0vhyphenhyphenIfdwjVBgW7_RTj_j1CiePWKnQCsZypNLd4Xr_loALucFEAv/s320/IMG_0011_edited.JPG" border="0" /></a>eah, that's like every other day. It's been good, the only bad thing I can say, is She's a BRAT. Her favorite thing right now seems to be the trot. I will admit, that's usually her favorite, but lately she's taking it to a whole new level. Multi-speeds, and one for every occasion. Yep, She's definitely got a trot for that. Walk... "oh, oh, I've got a trot for that". Trot....."yep, I got a trot for that". Lope, "oh, goody, I've got a trot for that". The only thing she doesn't seem to have a trot for is going in a really small figure eights over walkovers that are two feet high. Now, you can bet if I let the figure eight get a bit bigger, she'd have a trot for that. But, to be completely fair, I enjoy that slow little shuffle of a trot that she saves for special occasions. </div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Let's see if this riding streak can continue. Maybe I'll see that shuffle more often if I can give her the attention she deserves.</div></div>bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232095330410175544.post-42664180021142880542009-05-24T09:03:00.000-07:002009-05-24T09:26:33.311-07:00Kids Know how to Put it all in PerspectiveThis week was a bit of a sad one for my son. He found out on Wednesday that a classmates father had passed away Tuesday evening while mowing his lawn. Now, I'd never met the man, but he did make an impression. You see, Gary had the terrific opportunity of volunteering for a kindergarten field trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hogle</span> Zoo a couple of weeks ago. He got to spend the day hanging out with Neil and one of his classmates. At the last minute, this other boy's dad was able to go. He originally didn't know if he would be able to trade anybody for the day off, so he didn't volunteer. He rode up to the zoo with my husband, and the two men were able to spend the day enjoying their sons enjoying the zoo. This was the kind of man who took a video camera on a field trip, and ran with every idea the two boys had of what to film. The boys ended up playing " 'Hooligan' and '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Galute</span>' on the island of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Madagascar</span>". And this wonderful man caught it all on film. Why can't more parents be so willing to run with the wild ideas of their children? This man also treated my husband like he was spending the day at the zoo with an old friend, not somebody he just met earlier that morning. Why can't more people show such kindness and warmth to everybody? How much happier would this world be? If we were to just leave our insecurities on our pillows every morning and truly enjoy the day that is before us? Love everybody and try to make a positive mark on those we meet?<br /><br />I saw the note from the school, telling the parents of the class, on Thursday morning. With the rush of activity in our house on Wednesday, I had neglected to even look in Neil's backpack. I talked to Neil about it that morning, and asked him how he was doing. He said that he missed his friend (classmate), and re-told in brief the adventures of " 'Hooligan' and '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Galute</span>' on the island of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Madagascar</span>". I told him to remember to be extra nice to his friend when he returns to school next week, and he said "I already am". Good point, we should be kind enough to people before something world shattering happens, that they know they have a friend in us, when a friend is needed. I asked my son if he needed a hug, and he said "No, I've already handled it". And he has, he looks a bit sad when I ask him if he's doing okay. He remembers a fun day at the zoo with his friend and their dads. And he goes back to being a boy. Isn't that the best way to remember those we've lost? Reflect on the fun we've had and go back to living our lives?<br />I understand that my son is only 6 and loss at that age is far different from a loss at an older age...but why?bobbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16263461049065626512noreply@blogger.com3