tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85401747464557384742024-02-18T19:53:35.962-08:00Monkey DumplingsGrateful Little Snow Monkeys!April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-3177629784412682482011-03-07T04:22:00.000-08:002011-03-07T05:56:40.239-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 56-62<div style="text-align: left;">Howdy! I sit here on a snowy Monday morning, the kids going bonkers in another room because they have a snow day and I am taking a moment to finally get back to this blog. Sorry about the long delay.</div><div><br /></div><div>#56) Too much to do!</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, I said it. I am grateful that I am too busy even to sit down and write this blog on a regular basis. I would rather have too much to do than too little. When I die, I would rather leave some things I wanted to do undone, than think that the world only held enough intersting things in it to fill my one little lifetime.</div><div><br /></div><div>#57) Three year olds! </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRRBfVVuOF-FoIJs0tr7cul_l4a2dCwzS7QeYnVfw26dkudYvBujLFOwnSNcxvDD1g6_rUYed8BSTgKePEYIJayPhBVxXlo37ABm8VzE9LEmlBPiPDdaTncIw-nBIJ9XPaLN_5tJP7wx0/s400/IMG_2106.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581315611878218706" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>I have one now. Noah turned 3 on Friday. He had his first real birthday party that wasn't just family. He was excited all day long and had his little nosed pressed up to the window, looking for his friends as the hour of the party approached. It was a big success. The picture above must be from last fall, when he was still very much two, but I had never seen it, so in it goes!</div><div><br /></div><div>#58) Friends who make me do things I wouldn't otherwise do.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like run a half-marathon. A big group of us have run the Burlington marathon in teams and pairs and singles over the last few years, raising money for the March of Dimes. This year I am splitting it with my friend Cybelle. If she weren't counting on me to run the second half, I know I wouldn't be training at all. Seriously, it's fun, companionable and you have other people who feel your pain to whine with. What could be better?</div><div><br /></div><div>#59) Blogs from people who live in warmer climates and who have a beautiful eye for color.</div><div><br /></div><div>This time of year, I need a little color. I like to go over to <a href="http://www.yarnstorm.blogs.com/">Jane Brockett's</a> blog to see what she is up to over in England. Spring comes much earlier on the other side of the pond.</div><div><br /></div><div>#60) Upcoming writing workshop!</div><div><br /></div><div>Starts this Thursday, and will last 6 weeks. In fact it ends a few days before we leave for Italy. I am excited, terrified and, of course, find myself without a single thing to write about. Must try to organize all my ideas....</div><div><br /></div><div>#61) Upcoming dog training class!</div><div><br /></div><div>Starts Wednesday evening. If you have never taken one of these, and you have a pupy or a young dog, or any dog, that is a bit rough around the edges, you should totally go sign yourself and your fur-ball up. These are so fun. Poppy is awesome, but she needs some more training. </div><div><br /></div><div>#62) Poppy.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxsPfqjAxaIKIhk52_jJKvqRoEmaxpFcRxAoMjRlZMjo55uaqvmR-yCOBC39KJCbLOXGiQUJSGQIOEn75_f_5oGqwCFJT5yRUelHxFEVBB0YTlaqfXrBwoi4jTMoIi5ZZlCBcWHmlgGg0/s400/IMG_0461.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581318818596062898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>She is such a sweet girl! She LOVES the kids, LOVES Max and is really well beahved. She comes when she is called, sits when she is asked and is very playful and loving. She is only 9 months olds, so she needs some more training, but she is smart, eager to please and totally adorable. We hit the doggy jack-pot again!</div><div><br /></div><div>What are you grateful for today? (By the way, I am loving the comments, keep them coming!)</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-5648602191655893222011-02-10T12:38:00.001-08:002011-02-21T11:27:29.483-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 51-55<div style="text-align: left;">Howdy! The time gets away from me, but I am having such a lovely couple of weeks. So very many wonderful things going on. So without further ado...</div><div><br /></div><div>#51) Rescuing dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are getting a new dog! We haven't determined her name yet, but she will be arriving on a <a href="http://www.petsllc.net/">P.E.T.S. Transport</a> from Kentucky on Feb. 26<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>. She is in the same foster home as Max was, and her foster mom says she is just like Max in a golden-girl outfit. We are going through <a href="http://www.goldenhuggs.org/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Goldenhuggs</span> Rescue</a>. I HIGHLY recommend them and urge you to immediately go check out their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">petfinder</span> page, AFTER looking at <a href="http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/18571275">our cutie</a> first, of course. Her name-to-be is Poppy!</div><div><br /></div><div>#52) Valentine's Day!</div><div><br /></div><div>I love this holiday. It brings color and cheer, chocolate and flowers, hugs and, perhaps most importantly, cupcakes!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVpK3BkrrnmwNmUyKBZ3gh_uZcJv0GC9TwstRmo_VdvASqbmppBLFXUiz5hIcSM1j-txruDGpcELA6Wk4T0i0_KNesm32r7glBmnNJetEmF5-pVb6Ragn5RrQSWsK8xYY0Ol51NCEFWQ/s400/IMG_0443.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576223026075027346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>#53) Vacation.</div><div><br /></div><div>The kids are on February break for 10 days. I love it. I wish it weren't quite so cold so we could ski more, but we are seeing family and friends, so we are happy.</div><div><br /></div><div>#54) Hilda!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkHl53d5TrbkCTmvH0otvHz43xjX0-eC7f-hccbP8ocCvyFjELLAEebvtHISiaF4Ozx6fppzCgSu7KOBHFOcXn4ak1My__DmegZA7sGw63lyfqfUgCVglaaD0JDKWgdlj1RNn33TeIuU/s400/DSC_0201.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576224490504695218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">She was our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">au</span> pair, now she is just our beloved friend. We talk to her all the time and we will be seeing her for a couple of weeks in Italy this spring. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Yay</span>! May <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">every one's</span> kids have a young person like Hilda in their lives. They simply adore her.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">#55) Upcoming trips.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Dreaming, planning, researching. It is so fun to get ready for a family trip. This spring we will be going to Tuscany for 3 weeks with our whole family, and Hilda, and the kids are so excited. So are we. Great food, great wine and a beautiful house, not to mention, art, architecture, history and SUNSHINE! Can't wait.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">More to come, but I need to play with my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">kidlets</span>.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">What are you grateful for today?</span></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-58044284213584761332011-02-05T04:05:00.001-08:002011-02-05T04:39:16.046-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 45-50<div style="text-align: left;">Good Morning! We have had the most beautiful, snowy weather here since the "big" storm, which wasn't really that big here. We got about 10-14 inches of snow, but oh my goodness, what snow it is! Light as a feather and heaven to ski through. AND, the sun, when shining, has actually been warm! Turn your face to it and feel it soak in warm.</div><div><br /></div><div>#45) Walks in the sun down snowy roads.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was so quiet and beautiful out and Noah and I took Max the dog down to visit our neighbor, the mule, on such a gorgeous February afternoon. Love late winter!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitMsUlPcyXmYawDrsBHZ0pnirUl6RwXobaDhvCdt7EPF_WJphNYsu-DpNwCE7CLW6dvwY6-cX6sDiq8Rz8Czr4gDtzgWct0PrUSQ92L4CFWIeska6Ou-3EIVM5lc_Dya7c7muJOpUWdNA/s400/IMG_0426.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570176091787832754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>#46) Sledding! </div><div><br /></div><div>So <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">exhilarating</span>. So giggle inducing. So god for my butt! Below are the boys working on packing down a path for the flying saucers. Observe their different techniques. First Kai. (Having trouble loading video, please be patient! Back soon.)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Then Noah.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>#46) Our health.</div><div>Nobody is sick, or hurt, or needs treatment for anything scary! I am thankful for that at least once a day.</div><div><br /></div><div>#47) Money for travel.</div><div>We are so, so lucky to have the money to travel. With 5 people, some trips call for serious savings, but it is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">so worth</span> it. Since September we have been on a serious belt-tightening diet so we can spend 3 weeks in Italy this spring with my family. I would so rather have fewer things, no babysitting and wear old clothes but be able to travel. For me, it's a no-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">brainer</span>! We are also heading out west this summer. We feel deeply lucky to be able to show our kids some of the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>#48) Co-sleeping</div><div>Noah is still in bed with us. Kai comes in on my side almost every night and Grace snuggles in on Zach's side. I love the family bed! It made such a difference in the kids' attachment when they first came home. It helped them transition from institutionalized orphans, to beloved children in a family. It's not for everyone, but I am so glad it works for us.</div><div><br /></div><div>#49) Chocolate.</div><div>Does this need any explanation? I think not.</div><div><br /></div><div>#50) Laughter.</div><div>The kind that makes your belly hurt, or the sound of the kids from another room. Certain people have great laughs. My friend's daughter Emma for instance has one of the all time great laughs. I try to make her giggle whenever possible. Kai's laugh ascends the scale until it breaks way high up in his throat. Grace sounds like she has been smoking for years. Noah's laugh is breathless. One of my favorite laughs is Zach's laugh when something funny surprises him. His face is beautiful in laughter. Isn't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">every one's</span> though?</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-89031257510727549022011-02-03T14:49:00.000-08:002011-02-03T15:04:49.667-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 44-<div style="text-align: left;">Hi there! Sorry it has been a quiet week. We had to put down our older dog, so we have been sad around here. She was 14 and lived a good and happy life. She also lasted a year past her diagnosis of "riddled with cancer" so that was awesome. She was a great dog and we miss her.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8eaaIoepgpS1KlbkjkxCSdIEwRws-vrPediqqtfSSMB3kMpnSUV4i7w-GQvVJezlGTFpaum44YLO7nVJfVrnYVMRBxeqXhZh7ntCe7p6g4qJj-v_u5_Vxg6lBYUWl2keBt-fBQEHHaA/s400/Fall+2004+006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569600003956221026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><b>ZIA</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><b>Feb 1, 1997 - Jan 31, 2011</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">#44) I am grateful to be able to help my pets pass with dignity. Our fantastic vet and friend, Emily, made a house call and Zia died peacefully in my arms. The kids were able to be there and give her loving through the end, and she wasn't stressed or worried or in pain. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">That is all for today. Zia deserves her own post. She was a brown hunk of yummi dog-love and she is missed.</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-38329001890286947272011-01-29T03:34:00.000-08:002011-01-29T04:16:45.770-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 40-43<div style="text-align: left;">Good morning! Sorry for the silence. Our weeks are busy, and the weather has been glorious so we are outside a lot and I am in the middle of several projects and, and, and.............</div><div><div><br /></div><div>So, without any more ado..</div><div><br /></div><div>#40) <b>Skiing</b></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsCn9kx9EBRCzCsx7H_bxEz5i91jsregDB9y3qOhAhJJMzAvkVycae8arErcyqEpTMsejfFOe8MIaSvwgJ5Amxq8gAdjmNO_KtN6eljbGIAwtsozHsrLQ1RIVRidISOssp8Uw6d4wjFA/s1600/IMG_0419.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsCn9kx9EBRCzCsx7H_bxEz5i91jsregDB9y3qOhAhJJMzAvkVycae8arErcyqEpTMsejfFOe8MIaSvwgJ5Amxq8gAdjmNO_KtN6eljbGIAwtsozHsrLQ1RIVRidISOssp8Uw6d4wjFA/s400/IMG_0419.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567570428586342850" /></a><br /><div>I snuck out early on Wednesday with Grace and Noah and met up with some friends and we had a glorious morning before Grace had to go to school. I am so LUCKY to live in a place where I have my choice of 4 ski resorts and have passes to 2. That I can go with my younger two during the week, and hit the terrain park with Kai on the weekends (although I will say, friends, it takes a lot of willpower NOT to freak out as your 7 year old goes flying through the air above your head. Just sayin.). I have a fluid group of fantastic friends I ski with, and we try to get out without our kids at least once a week, with varying degrees of success. There is nothing like standing on top of snow-capped mountains on a beautiful day, surrounded by friends, or even alone, and pointing your skis downhill. It is soul filling fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>#41) <b>Mountains</b>.</div><div><br /></div><div>And while we are on the subject. I am grateful to live in the mountains. I have thought about this a lot. I love the sea, goodness knows I love the deep, dark, changing, mysterious northern sea. I also love the gentle, turquoise, warm, gorgeous tropical sea. I am an equal opportunity water lover! However, I am a mountain girl. I NEVER get tired of looking at the mountains. I love them in all seasons. I love the way the clouds race across them on a breezy summer day. I love the way sunset and sunrise paint them pink in the winter. I love the way the green of spring slowly climbs upwards towards the peaks in May and the flaming oranges and reds of autumn descend down into the valleys in October. I love exploring them, climbing up in all seasons, swimming in their streams (summer only, I'm not insane) and knowing a little about the creatures who live in their forests. Yes, I am a mountain girl.</div><div><br /></div><div>#42) <b>An endless supply of dry kindling!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>This won't mean a lot to those of you who live in warm places, BUT, having a woodworking husband means I have access to tons of scraps of perfectly dried wood to start fires with. I don't even have to go outside! I just slip down to his workshop and raid the scrap bin. Let me tell you, last weekend, when it was -30, I was giggling with glee at my good fortune. And yesterday, when we ran out of heating fuel (whoops, my bad) the house never even had a chance to get cold because the fire started up so fast. It's just lovely.</div><div><br /></div><div>#43) <b>My own workspace</b><b>.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>So, as it turns out, everybody in our house has a space of their own except me. The kids have playrooms, Zach has his shop, and I have.....the dining room table. Or rather, I did, until now. Zach and I have decided to turn the alcove in our bedroom into my space, and it is beautiful. It has the best view of Mt. Mansfield, and fits a desk, a comfy chair and a big table for sewing. Here's what it looked like before we started.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3NMwM5_c0N2fqnn8h3PWENc2UGnBmtq8oMcp9AWpD0AyNBc3XOayAFG-bsdToJtpukhu7Ln8fEVMzZYLpSNMq3063OC_lw9y9HMg3RvICGeRjsAPyOUxsa1gb-praslStpVbQY66Tik/s400/DSC_0165.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567577262940614930" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div>Yes, those are boxes filled with my crap for the 1001 projects I have going at any given time.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh689WsHTMnd6Zt3OiQTgJfc72jKIkLT8PKyrrOrrjovW02KNj6ezpp9YhBGOXij1_W0-_rfrLalAv_aLWy8FTazqd0WReRD1j915uM2dMarDxP8Ez19Iyo_0yCROtkZ1C-TQp85xXJ-DY/s400/DSC_0168.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567577873812752994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">This is my darling husband painting it for me because he is the best!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJN58MHCBgD9sptYFd47cPFeQ86CzpbX7A8StyslBJTu_ktcGo1LC2Z4iyENa6MSrX4dMHj3q9sGuWJnQDsBbEuVJ6Tg81XQYxT_06gCjpa9iIlkLzNDVI5JjXdJLLbryDqZhCTwnPMAg/s400/DSC_0173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567577274152574274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>First coat done. And then when he was all finished and it was gorgeous and warm and we both lay on our bed admiring it, he asked me if I wanted him to make me a sewing table. I said sure, and had something simple in mind, like a piece of plywood nailed to 4 4x4's. He disappeared into the workshop and a day later re-emerged with this for me:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQni2J59Wy1v5NTXbO-xHokkit5JZdIanMUXte5lWSRmPoUYx-Yj_E3uHRYuOCEdsEbVLfeJevnSNQTqATZ_dhsRhBelEFshx0oWWaLVcdEYwAOCclwLR99cu-Qw2qCyyuM7GBh20CZ0/s400/DSC_0164.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567577281493461138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Maple skirting, cherry legs, and walnut edging. So gorgeous! Now he is making me bookshelves and fabric storage. I do so love that man. I'll keep posting pictures as my space comes together. I am so lucky!</div><div><br /></div><div>What are you grateful for today?</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-15779396889470595762011-01-24T04:03:00.000-08:002011-01-24T10:25:16.932-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 36-39<div style="text-align: left;">Good morning! It is somewhere between -27 and -36 outside my house right now, depending on which thermometer one chooses to believe. School is starting 90 minutes late and my boys are in the bath together playing with funnels, while my girl gets an extra hour of sleep. No matter how crazy his days are, Kai still gets up before 6am, EVERY DAY! He is the original morning person.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, with the freezing cold out there, I am grateful for very many things like...</div><div><br /></div><div>#36) <b>the ability to buy heating fuel!</b> It is MINUS 27 to 36 degrees without any windchill factor, and my house is nice and toasty. I am deeply grateful and hope my neighbors are equally safe and warm.</div><div><br /></div><div>#37) <b>My </b><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><b>wood stove</b></span><b>.</b> I love it, it is cheerful and warming and no Vermont house feels right without one, or at least a fireplace, but a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wood stove</span> is better for heating a house, I think.</div><div><br /></div><div>#38) <b>Color.</b> I crave color this time of year, and every little bit of it is soothing to an eye that loves, but is getting weary of, the winter palate of white, silver, gray etc.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg329OK9aP41RPHrlLZtvnN3139XDIBxursE9MPnoxaeB5ddMvN-evtQvnz7sEw-Sij1CJb5HuLgWNTuu6-MEUFWpnnwee5jhodZAwRZZuCABMKVSy_gbX4rPs6WQtTcAeWOMdIqCUVZQ/s1600/DSC_0169.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg329OK9aP41RPHrlLZtvnN3139XDIBxursE9MPnoxaeB5ddMvN-evtQvnz7sEw-Sij1CJb5HuLgWNTuu6-MEUFWpnnwee5jhodZAwRZZuCABMKVSy_gbX4rPs6WQtTcAeWOMdIqCUVZQ/s400/DSC_0169.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565724441898874434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRXMJCK0uLmB6MWSVh-8xKBf2nm_mzzJdW1C_ypGJlA3cni3eVqvwXKMsnC91DCJsNZ48VXGmivodz7GF1Bih9lnagg39xwPZ8FN-iHHRAHSDRzF6mv4l672qT5dSAvsUJkDlfoLm6I4/s1600/DSC_0165.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRXMJCK0uLmB6MWSVh-8xKBf2nm_mzzJdW1C_ypGJlA3cni3eVqvwXKMsnC91DCJsNZ48VXGmivodz7GF1Bih9lnagg39xwPZ8FN-iHHRAHSDRzF6mv4l672qT5dSAvsUJkDlfoLm6I4/s400/DSC_0165.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565724438037483250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUf_9vAg217J_fuX-D_dAJsl0nFzwRTKyneQctx9zXZqJe9izG4MuxCD46wklPvXpAllJmSJ9k_H5GrXmCwTNF4KsyBDV3wiE5AbWRm3-zwDwxQ-goykPLMtzG5271R7aG61csdW7gS8/s1600/DSC_0173.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUf_9vAg217J_fuX-D_dAJsl0nFzwRTKyneQctx9zXZqJe9izG4MuxCD46wklPvXpAllJmSJ9k_H5GrXmCwTNF4KsyBDV3wiE5AbWRm3-zwDwxQ-goykPLMtzG5271R7aG61csdW7gS8/s400/DSC_0173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565724435967461634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a></div><div>Every bit of color, whether man made or natural, is a little bit of joy right now!</div><div><br /></div><div>#39) <b>Sunlight. </b></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFDrRPDUQaLrjWYEzSMCccc9_sHarTf9IHzX426C95RvN8ciqZt3UzOieAovLZBXvnp-xJIogGbesSvxxkz-3M9GCDyUL5x0Mo99MF0vgSAKO5q4BFnauPbqhWpP8-s_hL6pEKEWqnN4/s400/DSC_0179.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565820085705444754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Especially</span> shining on a couch or chair where I can curl up and feel it's, admittedly weak right now, warmth. Later this winter will be the thrilling moment when I am out for a walk with Max, and the sun will be at my back and I will suddenly realize that it is WARMING me through my jacket. I may even have to take off a layer. Oh that is pure magic, that moment. As John Denver said "Sunshine on my shoulder, makes me happy." Corny, but simple and true.</div><div><br /></div><div>What are you grateful for this lovely morning?</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-71235895678493076712011-01-22T03:32:00.000-08:002011-01-22T04:55:29.610-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 29-35<div style="text-align: left;">Good morning! Sorry I haven't been here every day. Life can get hectic with 3 little ones and all their activities. But I am almost done with my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">gratitudes</span></span> in my handwritten journal, so I am not slacking on the project, just finding it hard to carve out 30 minutes to blog. Better than being bored with nothing to do though, right? So.....</div><div><br /></div><div>#29) <b>Sleep.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>I had the best night's sleep last night. I went to bed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">embarrassingly</span> early and managed to sleep away an impending migraine. I feel so lively and awake at 6:20am, not a usual <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">occurrence</span> for me. There really is nothing as good for the mind or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">soul</span> as a good night's sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>#30) <b>Music.</b></div><div><br /></div><div> I grew up in a musical house, I had full run of the Stuttgart Opera house as a child, we always had a music room in every home. I married a musician, have a sister who is a musician, have in-laws who are musicians. I like everything from Beethoven to Beck, Chopin to Caravan Palace, Bach to Bela Fleck, Puccini to Pink Martini (hey, that rhymes!). I love Bluegrass, funk, soul, classical, jazz, standards, alternative, grunge, folk, dance..... the list is endless. I am grateful to be able to hear and enjoy music.</div><div><br /></div><div>#31) <b>Concerts.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>And since we are heading out tomorrow to take the kids to a Dan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Zanes</span></span> concert, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">I'll</span> just say how much I love seeing music live. Especially with the kids, especially in the summer and outside. BUT as tomorrow afternoon is never going to get above zero (!) I am thrilled to spend a couple of hours inside dancing with my family.</div><div><br /></div><div>#32) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><b><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Skype</span></b></span><b>.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>I am, at heart, rather old fashioned, and I am not a lover of gadgets and technology just for the sake of the "next thing," but when something works as well as S<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">kype</span></span> to connect me to loved ones so far away, well, how lucky am I to live in a time when I can see people while I talk to them across time zones and oceans?! How about that for a run-on sentence?</div><div><br /></div><div>#33) <b>Wool socks.</b></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Hand knit</span> or S<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">martwool</span></span>, there is nothing in the world like a pair of well made socks.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtZ5MtjhGOjZApEruY2ad-NVlOiky6WMTDqtPYjuiD-nG5AHt9kt2DAmYa60c_L7AgjhW4uSx9ydmryrXi0RKnQQHr4mmByOliM1L70y76jhgPwVHrSmubk3I8rBfYXA10UDHxsnwhNE/s400/DSC_0007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564977268628866850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">#34) <b>My in-laws</b>.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I married into THE coolest family. So smart, talented, artistic, funny, chatty, lively, loving, and deeply cool. They all get along <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">inspiringly</span></span> well and hanging out and chatting with any of them is absolutely one of my all time favorite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">pastimes</span>. Missing from the photos below are Zach's sister Stefanie, who is actually sleeping in my guestroom as we speak, and Cousin Mark, who is too wily and fast for a camera. Must rectify my lack of photos of them immediately!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh3KDDXF5Yoy1BC6TgdunjPU9GBM4L1EndKCI6BIczNv-xG35pFP3vM1X84BOhOEL2u5GNXYuyNcDptGDqz4YdR_bLaok2q5Zp3DxX6cfWiSLaUr18CqNAawNuaBOCzOx59mdYefZFwgY/s1600/DSC_0586.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh3KDDXF5Yoy1BC6TgdunjPU9GBM4L1EndKCI6BIczNv-xG35pFP3vM1X84BOhOEL2u5GNXYuyNcDptGDqz4YdR_bLaok2q5Zp3DxX6cfWiSLaUr18CqNAawNuaBOCzOx59mdYefZFwgY/s400/DSC_0586.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564980355993525394" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW2oUxkKoDvVBTSTHNIdW3dIy1f_rxB8yFw-M88eB90PtReE0-BI1VLTZGkKryf_uDWh1mMnESHQVi7n4lJlxBP509ldGA8WIyfLOQh_6-wiOOfKI0rmy4wIjj2JPKN5RBGblKdWTAOKg/s1600/DSC_0552.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW2oUxkKoDvVBTSTHNIdW3dIy1f_rxB8yFw-M88eB90PtReE0-BI1VLTZGkKryf_uDWh1mMnESHQVi7n4lJlxBP509ldGA8WIyfLOQh_6-wiOOfKI0rmy4wIjj2JPKN5RBGblKdWTAOKg/s400/DSC_0552.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564980357923987090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjstJkr82hw2KUAbIsFDpQubIRFLgHSPV9z9aQgBz947TbX8BURYekklnW8X3JxxUkO-_Oq2iecxZd-3QhTBIHt569sa_oNumunx1_6qrNn11F1Ol9AxaloITc5d40g3xK6N5nNlXB6ZM/s1600/DSC_0535.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjstJkr82hw2KUAbIsFDpQubIRFLgHSPV9z9aQgBz947TbX8BURYekklnW8X3JxxUkO-_Oq2iecxZd-3QhTBIHt569sa_oNumunx1_6qrNn11F1Ol9AxaloITc5d40g3xK6N5nNlXB6ZM/s400/DSC_0535.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564980347405565474" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSsQ2sQZUzhh2RGYpZ9PNRp5Sh-UqA7c965ELvUBxl0VuIOUk81oWz7Gxf6GBQ4v0TNzBQHc16z97ZcDkiZBsWjfQOt1o9bZRxhJYuj9h29-5T00Utw-VrPgaF3j1UxJ9xza4tiyaHQaY/s1600/DSC_0515.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSsQ2sQZUzhh2RGYpZ9PNRp5Sh-UqA7c965ELvUBxl0VuIOUk81oWz7Gxf6GBQ4v0TNzBQHc16z97ZcDkiZBsWjfQOt1o9bZRxhJYuj9h29-5T00Utw-VrPgaF3j1UxJ9xza4tiyaHQaY/s400/DSC_0515.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564979386097059170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurDcaTeI21m36l45Tmze3Uf618hDMseQ2XBeXYRDZ9BU62ORYST6Zji9FxyAl3BPFyYhE_cR76X8Jr03WCR1pB187QCvGbZcxsT5P_6Yqnjx34GSPGmCFB8jy73zQAEifv2-sLthRhjs/s1600/DSC_0512.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurDcaTeI21m36l45Tmze3Uf618hDMseQ2XBeXYRDZ9BU62ORYST6Zji9FxyAl3BPFyYhE_cR76X8Jr03WCR1pB187QCvGbZcxsT5P_6Yqnjx34GSPGmCFB8jy73zQAEifv2-sLthRhjs/s400/DSC_0512.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564979382604379874" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div>#35) <b>Sunrise over the mountains</b>. </div><div><br /></div><div> So glad I am here to see it!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwXNR24i6NM0BFL-SHzqKIGCyWMrix1Xq3BqwCaN87OHxzmhXYIJl9py4w6QczGkvshqR6IuUsnI9bBXueDPJO1YiCdCBg8W_2Zb-DU-YIK-FJkOldDo7pP2eiY_AfymvGmscnhSapx4/s1600/DSC_0166.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwXNR24i6NM0BFL-SHzqKIGCyWMrix1Xq3BqwCaN87OHxzmhXYIJl9py4w6QczGkvshqR6IuUsnI9bBXueDPJO1YiCdCBg8W_2Zb-DU-YIK-FJkOldDo7pP2eiY_AfymvGmscnhSapx4/s400/DSC_0166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564991973357282482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQZx1xcqOPd5V5BeiVFgmpc-xNM9zpsD5bQyB6YXGZcm-Wj4V1Cjb_r6yRccnz0Wl4kFWSPG1URCsZdMreBkTdOdzNXce3vE2bT3pOuscMQ67aUJqFf8zcTGDpK2HrL2sbR8YdDviUw4/s1600/DSC_0165.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQZx1xcqOPd5V5BeiVFgmpc-xNM9zpsD5bQyB6YXGZcm-Wj4V1Cjb_r6yRccnz0Wl4kFWSPG1URCsZdMreBkTdOdzNXce3vE2bT3pOuscMQ67aUJqFf8zcTGDpK2HrL2sbR8YdDviUw4/s400/DSC_0165.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564991958109686066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQMnlj-ekA0qBhUnVesFtrELlZWzT0qU85y3h5nTk5Ag6guNzhH93V8z-VNVeWXQaf0FXxmVw0E6ydmxyO4VjnhJWWhAEb37n208jh_nuTsxY3LaaCq1szd3zwasxqVtwIP5FPo0lgfI/s1600/DSC_0163.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQMnlj-ekA0qBhUnVesFtrELlZWzT0qU85y3h5nTk5Ag6guNzhH93V8z-VNVeWXQaf0FXxmVw0E6ydmxyO4VjnhJWWhAEb37n208jh_nuTsxY3LaaCq1szd3zwasxqVtwIP5FPo0lgfI/s400/DSC_0163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564991949268132850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-82193400571787766832011-01-19T05:25:00.000-08:002011-01-20T05:55:03.588-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 25-28<div style="text-align: left;">Good snowy morning to you! A lovely day to get out and play. Which is exactly what will be happening today. But, here we go for today...</div><div><br /></div><div>#25)</div><div><br /></div><div>Old friends. I have a lot of them. I am blessed. Just yesterday a friend posted some pictures on Facebook of us when we were little and it is so cool to have those memories brought back. When we got married, I had 9 bridesmaids (I know, I know) and every single one of them had been a friend forever.</div><div><br /></div><div>#26)</div><div><br /></div><div>New friends. I love making new friends! I love meeting someone and recognizing a kindred spirit in them. I have been beyond lucky, since moving back to Waterbury, to have met a bunch of people like this. (You know who you are, my little skiing buddies!) So amazing to meet new people with whom you can be yourself completely. This community seems particularly full of awesome souls.</div><div><br /></div><div>#27)</div><div><br /></div><div>Flowers. Especially at this monochromatic time of year, they are balm to the eyes. Sometimes a picture of them is enough, or a cheery fabric pattern covered in flowers. What an amazing part of our world!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGeTRg44pyyFGcmK_aJjUMQoxVDmwU1Zpmz-lqBUYmXD7RuyiVIiIP9TrunO9eiig0Dbt2_i3lftX2w2GDKadqKzswDaVFhzGkZ_i3TSwAHfvlfBTz_GAXLgjAWV9J0NCoT_KKvpAPAQ/s400/DSC_0112.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564265022261052194" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">#28) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Great movies. Ones I could, and have, seen over and over again. The Philadelphia Story, The Princess Bride, A Fish Called Wanda, A Room with a View, Enchanted April, The Bourne Series, Mostly Martha, Amelie....... The list goes on and on. If you want to amuse me, just put anything with Katherine Hepburn in on the TV and I am there!</span></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-11387467409028528312011-01-18T05:18:00.000-08:002011-01-18T05:30:16.347-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 21-24<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYo_hh7_93IyGtY-SxEi4dZoq6Dd1ou84Bz2ydJa5YxK7mRR6yADy_kd9eifusZRM9Dxx4n2ltCA8O7IZRGBcyGnOdGujKOXkdmym0XtoCkj75y5bJ1FEPDHbOThwPtfu_2eKJESWZcyw/s1600/DSC_0001.JPG"></a>Good Morning! The snow is staring to fall, and my day is fairly open, which is a treat. What to do, what to do? Well first, I think I will make a big breakfast that features quite a lot of the next thing I am grateful for!<div><br /></div><div>#21)</div><div><b>Maple Syrup</b>. We buy it in gallon jugs or more. We put it on everything. I cook with it. The kids may have syrup running through their veins. Yum.</div><div><br /></div><div>#22) </div><div><b>Cuddles</b>. Grateful for arms and legs to hold my loved ones close.</div><div><br /></div><div>#23) </div><div><b>Cats.</b> Sweet, cool, distant, cuddly, self-sustaining fuzz-balls. Behold Jack and Maggie. Taking a rest from keeping my house rodent-free.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYo_hh7_93IyGtY-SxEi4dZoq6Dd1ou84Bz2ydJa5YxK7mRR6yADy_kd9eifusZRM9Dxx4n2ltCA8O7IZRGBcyGnOdGujKOXkdmym0XtoCkj75y5bJ1FEPDHbOThwPtfu_2eKJESWZcyw/s400/DSC_0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563516686160342626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">#24) </span></div><div><b>Clean sheets</b>. I love clean sheet day and the smooth cool feel of curling up in them.</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-78523810774224582112011-01-17T04:56:00.000-08:002011-01-17T05:21:07.223-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 16-20<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6jrtq9PbNQQr5DSgO53dA-Dw45lz0Bl54DGIIRYzG8Uvdqa8xFpZtTKftm0iqIiijOGbKbUMLu3depTxEQNYbmjc20tT5ouiNRDCk6iHME5BgM_H3rgnzXRrp5XB0vn8sKrpiBf3rlA/s1600/DSC_0168.JPG"></a>Good morning! Hope everyone had a lovely weekend. We did, but I find myself really grumpy this morning. Like, <i>really, </i>mean-mommy, would give almost anything for a few hours of solitude that does not include cleaning of any kind, grumpy. Oh well. C'est la vie! On mornings like this, it is, I think, extremely important to spell out what you are grateful for and what your blessings are. So...<div><br /></div><div>#16)</div><div><br /></div><div>Books. I can not imagine a life without books. I am currently on a reading tear. I am re-reading old favorites and devouring all my Christmas books. I love knitting books and cookbooks and books about creativity and beauty. I like classics and and children's books and even a well written romance (just discovered Georgette Heyer, and she is sheer light hearted amusement, perfect for a stormy day in front of the fire with frequent interuptions). I love non-fiction. I love history. I love science and books on the environment. I am an equal opportunity book lover. I can't stand literary snobs. I figure whatever floats someone's boat. For my part, I just re-read Cold Comfort Farm. Any book that has 4 cows in it named Aimless, Graceless, Pointless and Feckless is definately worth reading. "Ah, for this I cowdled ye as a mommet!" Love that book.</div><div><br /></div><div>#17) </div><div><br /></div><div>Winter.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6jrtq9PbNQQr5DSgO53dA-Dw45lz0Bl54DGIIRYzG8Uvdqa8xFpZtTKftm0iqIiijOGbKbUMLu3depTxEQNYbmjc20tT5ouiNRDCk6iHME5BgM_H3rgnzXRrp5XB0vn8sKrpiBf3rlA/s400/DSC_0168.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563142225228902082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "> </span></div><div>The joy of playing in the snow and on the ice, coupled with the peace and security of curling up by the fire.</div><div><br /></div><div>#18)</div><div>Indoor plumbing and HOT running water. I live in Vermont. 'Nuff said.</div><div><br /></div><div>#19)</div><div>Vanilla. The smell of baking and comfort food.</div><div><br /></div><div>#20)</div><div>Silence. Soul filling quiet. So rarely achieved, but occasionally in the woods with a blanket of snow, there it is. Total silence. Love that.</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-66714373705183607692011-01-14T06:26:00.000-08:002011-01-17T05:21:27.394-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 13-15<div style="text-align: left;">Good Morning! I hope you are all doing well. This has actually been a bit of a trying week, what with the horrors of Tuscon, the destruction of the storage barn at our <a href="http://www.petesgreens.com/">favorite organic farm</a> (and provider of our CSA share), and the death of a wonderful member of our community who was also our vet and the father of one of our divine babysitters. She called me yesterday morning, right after he had passed and the grief in her voice was overwhelming. I have been so sad for her, her brother and their whole family. What has been amazing is the way our community has come together to support each other through the loss of this friend. So with that in mind....</div><div><br /></div><div>13) <b>My community</b>. I am so grateful to live in a town where people are beholden to each other, and far from resenting it, they revel in it. There are arguments, and the usual petty disagreements of course, but I am proud to a member of what really feels like a team. It is really, the most amazing community, Zach and I talk about how lucky we are all the time. </div><div><br /></div><div>The picture below is from the elementary school lantern parade, right before the solstice. Several hundred schoolkids, the entire faculty, hundred of parents, all carrying hand made lanterns led by a raucous Brazilian Drum band marching through town to the green and back on street lined with community supporters. Pictures were hard to get because I didn't want to miss a moment of this magical event. The line of lanterns was endless, there was a light snow falling, and it was the perfect way to welcome back the sun as it turns it's light back toward the north. The best part was that everyone I saw that night really GOT what a special place this town is. It was radiating from all of us.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qbOTSuEyn-5SoAK-UyV8w5D0DGraX29MtwfWUu8XNeUIx0rYxj4nL3Dm8WvL-JL8ueUylZoyYIWpjuXt9kn6Fb6exqisD9UtBsX5CMrVBiVReXXXkVGF50G7QYcKZRfZvIBG_7n1HY8/s400/DSC_0241.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562050708469708354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>#14)</div><div><b>Fresh, locally grown food</b>. I love the anticipation of seeing what will be in my CSA share every week. I love getting our meat from a farm I love to visit. I am grateful beyond words to have fresh food at my disposal, and to be able to feed my family without worry about where the next meal will come from.</div><div><br /></div><div>#15)</div><div><b>Masterpiece Theatre</b>. I love a good <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/">costume drama</a>! I am girly that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>What are you grateful for today?</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-43266688308053997392011-01-13T04:50:00.000-08:002011-01-29T05:37:30.035-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 10-12<div style="text-align: left;">Good morning! It's a snowy winter wonderland here. Can't wait to go play in it, just need to wake up a little more. Here is who is already out there romping around..</div><div><br /></div><div>#10) Dogs</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-Ok-Qx0dL2U10rw3yvnCTWIpV5Cq0qg0N7Zg-tpX_NEvCZOWnE_4bzwRoifA3-oXPDUJ-f9T_m1sweRBazNJ865JKy1HqM5b-poYo6OdD0bnOoAPVRhHDVYCvvRQ8fCAFD6BMAWh7sk/s400/IMG_0181.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567601379955361650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Max the Dog, the wonderful dog! We are so lucky to have this amazing creature! He was hours from being euthanized this time last year. Now he is a certified therapy dog, kid snuggler-in-chief, walk and hike companion, and general good natured gentleman around the house. He is also the first male dog I have ever owned! Weird, but true. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Then there is Zia Brown dog. This dog is nothing but pure love on legs. Here is a picture of the sweet brown-sugar love in her younger days.</span></div><div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dTj0uHqXqPrCA9f9lhgCxvMclrfOa1M9ODz2OfS9vfSgIlYdm16ff7xSk8fKiW2SD7yC3_cT_aEx6xKg9eTFksx7UsVdAU0gfzDvWIqTQABygRV-QM6oAVwvguX5kChIOc-dv4YWHrQ/s1600/Fall+2004+020.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dTj0uHqXqPrCA9f9lhgCxvMclrfOa1M9ODz2OfS9vfSgIlYdm16ff7xSk8fKiW2SD7yC3_cT_aEx6xKg9eTFksx7UsVdAU0gfzDvWIqTQABygRV-QM6oAVwvguX5kChIOc-dv4YWHrQ/s400/Fall+2004+020.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561653325832503746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>Then there are the dogs of our past. Before we had kids, we had dogs . A funny pack of 4 girl dogs who were mischievous and awesome. We were so lucky to have such a dynamic herd of furry daughters. This is Sadie. She lived to be 17 1/2. She was quite the lady.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAesZXzB80c7VLKDPD_nXoxmrcPZSvpB50JPhagFpl4j4_0_J0fMGjtN4XC8yQFAckh392G1sliNwLgwqLKUQuhrtA_kTPgdm14kppM0Y9kI3HE-sCDMpTJbIZECBcEePA1ZgNGKn1WqQ/s1600/Fall+2004+008.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAesZXzB80c7VLKDPD_nXoxmrcPZSvpB50JPhagFpl4j4_0_J0fMGjtN4XC8yQFAckh392G1sliNwLgwqLKUQuhrtA_kTPgdm14kppM0Y9kI3HE-sCDMpTJbIZECBcEePA1ZgNGKn1WqQ/s400/Fall+2004+008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561653321284902882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>This was Kyly, Zach's heart dog. She was trouble wrapped up in a big smooshy, soft, love ball. Man was she trouble, but sweet. She lived to be 14 years old.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pe-THsdq9B-NTXxWGh7mQboNZqZ-nNaJhgGimpwua46nDPg8BTLlpU825m8gXY8MehLyYu00wIZBu5aidIhL150SR57ozgBIp8TRrXchfXgaDvUgdKCtzSA0DRLVA316e5SeYvdw9P0/s1600/Fall+2004+009.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pe-THsdq9B-NTXxWGh7mQboNZqZ-nNaJhgGimpwua46nDPg8BTLlpU825m8gXY8MehLyYu00wIZBu5aidIhL150SR57ozgBIp8TRrXchfXgaDvUgdKCtzSA0DRLVA316e5SeYvdw9P0/s400/Fall+2004+009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561653314885064306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>This was Sabrina, the dog of my heart. My friend, my companion, the being I could communicate with using only my eyes or my breath. We were linked, and I miss her every day. She lived to be 15 years old.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31B_KgBzbaoLazIpvpgVitG9VTLpB1ZdOkNQSrYgoobPx6vb8-8KxOD8mHcCunk6glsvECm0_DUoq3RURidRD6d3GMH4GBs5dGhpQqkfAdhpgi13T9uzu89cj_Yx3HU5OP0oaYRrcM4o/s400/Fall+2004+016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561656767750424866" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div>Dogs fill our days with joy. I have never, and will never, live without dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>#11)</div><div><br /></div><div>Dad.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwn1it8DL5WXMpf30wQw5ygYju2cCD-negBAQ-uOunmyWu_B9vsSLWJYR7Z1BLzCZ7euFMPaVjeAfoiJc4l2T6NClETL7ycPHWPhwUmw6EdmJXyVjKhE5edq9UrI2BXGCZVLOZ5tzVkT4/s400/DSC_0085.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561659022355074882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span></div><div>A wonderful grandfather, a loving man, a gift to music. I have always felt loved by my father, every day of my life, which is no small thing for a child of divorce. No matter what was happening in his adult relationships, I knew my dad loved me. What a gift.</div><div><br /></div><div>#12)</div><div>Naps. I love naps. They feel so indulgent and luxurious, especially if there is a warm body curled up with you. Noah is an especially snugly napper, but on the, rare, occasions that Zach will lie down, he is an awesome dozing partner too.</div><div><br /></div><div>What are you grateful for today?</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-9772178513874250842011-01-12T04:33:00.001-08:002011-01-17T05:22:06.387-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 6-9<div style="text-align: center;">Good morning! We are having a snow-day, the first of our winter (I don't count the weird day in October when school was cancelled for no apparent reason) and we are snuggled in. So, with no further ado....</div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; ">#6)</div><div><br /></div><div>SNOW DAYS! Unexpected little vacations. Days to play in new and lovely snow, or if it's really freezing and blowing, snuggle up by the fire and do art projects and read. A little bonus day of togetherness.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; ">#7) Mom.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW2QNaTz7Z4q9EpgwuCEaRbgoPlA-Me2xumggJuacNeA5tpF5w-s2LnREotbksMuP6ab6ViBickimUFrglZoX2Egv2Bal2rC92nvdcfvvIezjcgnAo1AtOx5qDDOQDNECR8C1RsIfWdL8/s1600/DSC_0010.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW2QNaTz7Z4q9EpgwuCEaRbgoPlA-Me2xumggJuacNeA5tpF5w-s2LnREotbksMuP6ab6ViBickimUFrglZoX2Egv2Bal2rC92nvdcfvvIezjcgnAo1AtOx5qDDOQDNECR8C1RsIfWdL8/s400/DSC_0010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561278257933633922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a>Funny, GENEROUS(!!!), smart, warm, loving. The perfect travel partner, always up for something fun, the best grandmother, creator of my delightful childhood. My friend, my confidant, my mommy. Oh, and so, so FUNNY. Did I mention how funny she is?<div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; ">#8) Siblings.</div><div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsXks7yQDs-ALYbEHj_e57Omq2any1feVgCyGeGnvMan9b-JrPBLk3FXbasGBKi1CEKTEqAADEogdxbhxtx1TVpy6JSGmeX5prxXDVNyJ91kt7NjHRInF-loz6n7yyrvODsoYhVJvjYs/s1600/DSC_0377.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIkdFyEwvtS0RUFP7WDkJkvry45vSaop9HdlXCShGhSuE81VSU4or_ZwsqFolmTwRUCX-rh6tx7KpLWira7xlG7TlAPZZx3oOo-cjAH8_AWzVVHXhV8EcGBDuDiPIdSNK7xzkroedXEg/s1600/Kyrgyzstan+012.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIkdFyEwvtS0RUFP7WDkJkvry45vSaop9HdlXCShGhSuE81VSU4or_ZwsqFolmTwRUCX-rh6tx7KpLWira7xlG7TlAPZZx3oOo-cjAH8_AWzVVHXhV8EcGBDuDiPIdSNK7xzkroedXEg/s400/Kyrgyzstan+012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561281243996925634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsXks7yQDs-ALYbEHj_e57Omq2any1feVgCyGeGnvMan9b-JrPBLk3FXbasGBKi1CEKTEqAADEogdxbhxtx1TVpy6JSGmeX5prxXDVNyJ91kt7NjHRInF-loz6n7yyrvODsoYhVJvjYs/s1600/DSC_0377.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsXks7yQDs-ALYbEHj_e57Omq2any1feVgCyGeGnvMan9b-JrPBLk3FXbasGBKi1CEKTEqAADEogdxbhxtx1TVpy6JSGmeX5prxXDVNyJ91kt7NjHRInF-loz6n7yyrvODsoYhVJvjYs/s400/DSC_0377.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561281259893143554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvb7MjgUj8gTB08WCOjDvixSyKHCLCd72i8HVyjLXXvvmh2pqD9aGZ0DHHDYlcfsqqQibgrNZQTIZifAT3xTNYHgD3P1fW-GW1HvnZhS1Oo5nV5v7P6AmxgGIn-efIjoGsj74qHZcbuoI/s1600/DSC_0421.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvb7MjgUj8gTB08WCOjDvixSyKHCLCd72i8HVyjLXXvvmh2pqD9aGZ0DHHDYlcfsqqQibgrNZQTIZifAT3xTNYHgD3P1fW-GW1HvnZhS1Oo5nV5v7P6AmxgGIn-efIjoGsj74qHZcbuoI/s400/DSC_0421.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561281255121990834" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnSupcFK2N4i2Gs5jsZLnTC6pnLYzX2k0lDO0euBu3sfx2hfbbhSi-uyHssURprZH0nI-bo0RqY3usrSrjCynSX4WaNTqjmp3DvXLGm5OsLfF8JDqQEBlYqiMPE4WUQ6mFlGPLQ10H2FE/s1600/DSC_0379.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnSupcFK2N4i2Gs5jsZLnTC6pnLYzX2k0lDO0euBu3sfx2hfbbhSi-uyHssURprZH0nI-bo0RqY3usrSrjCynSX4WaNTqjmp3DvXLGm5OsLfF8JDqQEBlYqiMPE4WUQ6mFlGPLQ10H2FE/s400/DSC_0379.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561281252624533234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnSupcFK2N4i2Gs5jsZLnTC6pnLYzX2k0lDO0euBu3sfx2hfbbhSi-uyHssURprZH0nI-bo0RqY3usrSrjCynSX4WaNTqjmp3DvXLGm5OsLfF8JDqQEBlYqiMPE4WUQ6mFlGPLQ10H2FE/s1600/DSC_0379.JPG"></a><div>Full siblings, half siblings, step siblings. These people have my back. They are infuriating and loving, sweet and funny. The keepers of my childhood memories. Another perspective on our parents.My staunchest defenders, my most honest critics. My friends.</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>#9)</div><div><br /></div><div>Polly.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGXubHkwJq8AbjTS43CiCg4qqbTl0StLx-gFCcpuuqTiT_E8No4rb9I9OzNadCLhV-K3bo1_3lHc-mPvriB_DRCRpD5tT4lmhyphenhyphenRb7xfg1S19bwg-ETyW5d5ogcirWzgC0cpryRugxWo0/s1600/Spring+07+050.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGXubHkwJq8AbjTS43CiCg4qqbTl0StLx-gFCcpuuqTiT_E8No4rb9I9OzNadCLhV-K3bo1_3lHc-mPvriB_DRCRpD5tT4lmhyphenhyphenRb7xfg1S19bwg-ETyW5d5ogcirWzgC0cpryRugxWo0/s400/Spring+07+050.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561287195469453634" /></a><div><br /></div><div>My other mother. Maternal Unit 2 (MU2). Wise, loving, kind, funny. My mothers partner in life, my children's Big Pa. Everybody should have a Polly. Plus she's cute and has a Texas accent!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34BDOp6yQVJlQ-kps9SjXKQICfCmmixKYjsMNwm2aqI-RaL4V6dDerfjPoTNH-1jGQ31FM_z6RZNX5_YD293ppd1Dhfai8VTZs4pt5GkIvNFQm0i3A99N694Uav0WTnbzTckqHiie4w8/s400/IMGP0182.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561288293585857810" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">What are you grateful for today?</span></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-4354852898001779982011-01-11T04:05:00.000-08:002011-01-17T05:23:23.119-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project 3-5<div><div>Good Morning! Continuing on with the things, big and little, that I am grateful for.<div><br /></div><div>#3) This girl.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cDkWB1JmxLj2ehiSUm4gba_djr-B2GCwKC8Xy27p-VAjLozmq-z6SRYG5Cg5T6-B9ayraFsieAUsIi20e_atZgMVLNY98dGI7qomEYzUvW_BCYI0PBg0BJPnbR6avreWpKsCkn3Wp4Y/s1600/DSC_0213.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cDkWB1JmxLj2ehiSUm4gba_djr-B2GCwKC8Xy27p-VAjLozmq-z6SRYG5Cg5T6-B9ayraFsieAUsIi20e_atZgMVLNY98dGI7qomEYzUvW_BCYI0PBg0BJPnbR6avreWpKsCkn3Wp4Y/s400/DSC_0213.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560899200594501698" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /><div>Yes, yes, yes! I get to spend my days knowing, loving and parenting Rowan Grace Taylor. Take the wee hours of last night, for instance. I awoke to a warm little body snuggling in next to mine, covering my face and hands with kisses and then tickling my arm as she, and I, drifted back into a sweet, sweet slumber. She has a STUBBORN STREAK! She hates being told what to do. She despises being thought wrong. She will bend over backwards to make others feel welcome, but there have also been days when I have missed the signals and the child just needed to be left to herself. Those are trying days. She teaches me to be observant. She teaches me about self-knowledge, the capacity to give to others and when to self preserve. She is strong, graceful, and funny. She is Grace.</div><div><br /></div><div>#4)</div><div><br /></div><div>This boy.<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxBv4bss7osnvE0gZFAs74lEjgZYMvFuQK3HDcjMSr5x3NPb6cm4kcVRBK2HHx5bcYXt0Mb9TlWLnY03sCz53f1aeIJMtXPF3XNjzQRjT2QyqzeiWCo5IiVMqkx0ff6dBl6kdqA1BM08Q/s1600/IMG_1086.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxBv4bss7osnvE0gZFAs74lEjgZYMvFuQK3HDcjMSr5x3NPb6cm4kcVRBK2HHx5bcYXt0Mb9TlWLnY03sCz53f1aeIJMtXPF3XNjzQRjT2QyqzeiWCo5IiVMqkx0ff6dBl6kdqA1BM08Q/s400/IMG_1086.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560904474666033026" /></a><br /><div>Oh dear lord this child is sweet. And infuriating. And FUNNY! And willful. And smart. And stubborn. And very, very, two. Textbook two as a matter of fact. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Just</span> when you think you know how to do something, like usher someone through the toddler years, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">BAM</span>, the universe has a giggle and sends you a Noah. I am so grateful. He is SO <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">snugly</span> and soft and loving. He says the best things. He is so full of joy and love. He is a handful. I don't remember life before him. He fills our hearts and our souls with gratitude. Every day with him is new and sweet. Wonder what he will get up to today?</div><div><br /></div><div>#5)</div><div>My morning cup of coffee. Just sneaking this in as I sit here enjoying it. I start looking forward to this the night before. I love everything about coffee. The smell of the beans, the sound of the grinder, the anticipation of the first cup, the feel of my hands wrapped around a mug. I like espresso, in all it's foamed and steamed milk forms. I regular coffee, strong and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">blond</span>, no sugar. I am not a fan of flavored coffees, I am a purist that way, but will occasionally add a dash of cinnamon or cocoa powder to a frothy cup. The town I live in is the headquarters for Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, and the other day as I was running with Max the dog, way on the other side of the village, across the river, a breeze would kick up <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">periodically</span> and carry on it the smell of roasting beans from the factory. It made me so happy to smell that. Talk about taking your mind off your aching muscles! Yes, I love coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tell me what you are grateful for today!<br /><div><br /></div></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-91619598299889140342011-01-10T05:08:00.000-08:002011-01-11T14:36:36.211-08:00100 Gratitudes: A New Year's Project<div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Helllooooooooo</span>!!! Hi, I'm back. Remember me? So, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lots</span> has happened since I last checked in and there is lots to write about, but most of it is along the lines of your average daily life stuff, so there is no pressing hurry to fill you in. Instead, I want to do a little exercise I was given by the lovely Ms. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mulvaney</span> over at <a href="http://www.persisitingstars.com/">Persisting Stars</a>. I am to write down 100 things I am grateful for. Simple right? Actually yes. The list is writing itself faster than my hand can follow. I have been writing it in a lovely blank book, but it occurs to me that shouting your gratitude to the world for all to hear (or in this case, read) is an easy way to spread a little joy around, and maybe get some of you all to think about everything you are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">grateful</span> for in your own lives. I will post one or two a day until I have worked my way down my list. I am already discovering that 100 is an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">absurdly</span> small number.</div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>So, here we go, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER (lest anyone/thing get offended;):</div><div><br /></div><div>#1)</div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XYM8gsknGDwpczZF05-SQz1p2vSpkfnijmwLDxkIqdOCrh0_fOCzkYkyaiZvH3OMzzukf3d3AGo_Tg9iOBCT_iTDdpXpEds1lavWc4TQm9n-h87kOVmw5vPB6c2HnvnHezDA7zCtdLU/s1600/DSC_0051.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XYM8gsknGDwpczZF05-SQz1p2vSpkfnijmwLDxkIqdOCrh0_fOCzkYkyaiZvH3OMzzukf3d3AGo_Tg9iOBCT_iTDdpXpEds1lavWc4TQm9n-h87kOVmw5vPB6c2HnvnHezDA7zCtdLU/s400/DSC_0051.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560595891567247314" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a><br /><div>My husband. My funny, loving, handsome partner in crime. I am deeply grateful to have married someone with whom I am so compatible. I am so lucky to have met him. I have loved other people and met many other people I could love, but he is my choice, and I am his. The fact that we don't take our luck for granted is a big part of what makes us feel so grateful. We are easy together. We can be ourselves. We know that there were and are other people we could be with. In a way, that is what makes our marriage so special. We choose it, over and over again. Yes we drive each-other bat-shit crazy sometimes, but honestly, we get along absurdly well. We are only 14 years into this thing, so who knows what the future holds, but for now and forever, I am so grateful that I get get to be with him while I can. Here is a picture from our wedding, almost 10 years ago. (Yikes! that went fast)<br /><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoGm0p9-VsstiKD4-FAzZQcRuH7bN0F8KHdZwJhkk8tmS98jT3mO2BUxtcW_9o2g24_9OE8QR0qnJti0XH0TOx7pvudP_5INnRDU72vroCwiPE5cJhEW9vk8_84y0PEL-0kL6UD1qTFo/s1600/Weddingforadoption.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoGm0p9-VsstiKD4-FAzZQcRuH7bN0F8KHdZwJhkk8tmS98jT3mO2BUxtcW_9o2g24_9OE8QR0qnJti0XH0TOx7pvudP_5INnRDU72vroCwiPE5cJhEW9vk8_84y0PEL-0kL6UD1qTFo/s400/Weddingforadoption.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560598059663497074" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /><div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>#2)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This boy:</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65ua8cp6Z_1ZsZctfyvVrtFmv2GuxXnpsYm9AR2IYsnIGRkso7wOIQ1xxPPLtXbz565cX_qC8wK_577XB8Z0jL3tYpfrDRBGDJhliEJ_BGer90Kei4Y0lFBlbuXuZi0kMy1kzL5r6kS4/s1600/DSC_0257.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65ua8cp6Z_1ZsZctfyvVrtFmv2GuxXnpsYm9AR2IYsnIGRkso7wOIQ1xxPPLtXbz565cX_qC8wK_577XB8Z0jL3tYpfrDRBGDJhliEJ_BGer90Kei4Y0lFBlbuXuZi0kMy1kzL5r6kS4/s400/DSC_0257.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560612235306449794" /></a><br /><div>Oh my, what did I do deserve being this child's mother? How on earth could anyone be so lucky! Sweet, smart, loving, funny and cuddly. Kai is sensitive and reckless, caring and wild, loving and tough. He is both easy and impossible to parent and has the dubious <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">privilege</span> of being the oldest, thereby bearing the brunt of all my parenting mistakes. This he does with a kind of grace and forgiveness I can only hope to emulate. He is a prince among boys with a heart big enough to encircle the world. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-12237273338340031622010-08-20T11:36:00.000-07:002010-08-22T17:05:59.647-07:00Coming to an endSummer that is. We have been waking up the past few mornings positively shivering because we left all the windows open and the house is freezing. It gets cold in the evenings in August every year, and every year I am surprised. I am an old dog and no, you can not, in fact, teach me any new tricks.<div><br /></div><div>The trees are laden with ripening apples. They aren't ready yet, but the deer and bears should have no problem putting on those last few pounds before winter. I feel a sudden urgency to go pick blackberries and see if my sister has any blueberries left. </div><div><br /></div><div>We finally had a rainy day and I got the house almost totally clean. The weather has been so glorious this summer, I haven't wanted to spend even an extra second inside. When we have these perfect, Vermont summers, I go into fall and winter joyfully, because I have spent every summer moment soaking up rays, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">getting</span> sun-burned, eating too many <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">s'mores</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hot dogs</span>, watching shooting stars, hiking, fishing, camping, getting sweaty and hot, riding the horses, picking fresh veggies and fruits from gardens and lazing around. I start to crave the cold so I can get some things done. I start to want to hibernate and cook heavy, sustaining food.</div><div><br /></div><div>The pond has gotten colder now that the nights are getting chilly. The first trees have started turning. Just a patch here and there, but it is the start, or the end, depending on how you look at it. But first we have a little left of August and the glorious, beautiful September which, year after year, proves to be the most spectacular month of them all.</div><div><br /></div><div>School starts on Wednesday. I am not a big fan of starting before Labor Day, but the kids are beside themselves with excitement. Kai is going into 1st grade. He has a new teacher, a beautiful woman with two daughters who we know a little bit (flat out THE nicest little girls I have ever met) and if she teaches anything like she parents, Kai will have the best 2 years of his life! That's right, two years. We have combined 1st and 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">nd</span> grade at our school which I love. Not only do the kids get to keep the same teacher for 2 years, but they get to both have mentors and then be mentors. It's awesome.</div><div><br /></div><div>Grace heads off to Kindergarten and will have the same fabulous teacher Kai had. We are very excited.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, Noah and I will be on our own for a few hours Monday through Thursday. Something he has never experienced. My goal this fall is to make sure I have a little one-on-one time with each kid, because people, the time it surely does fly by. </div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-83387501976410833582010-07-16T12:57:00.000-07:002010-07-16T15:34:29.870-07:00Our summer so far, Part II (Austria, Germany and The Wedding)<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc03qT_UC62-fTfdsPhk9jOly7phqHpx4LQRvjBKTz6dJsiEOilCTiqY1XNYOfkMrY4syKXi7IlZ7PCclY_A6gcEKGHwccJRdZPZnk2zD6FQSFjWUshZRloaKSuRobYXJhQP_9lzU5d3g/s1600/DSC_0259.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: center;">We all packed up and flew off to Germany at the end of June, where we stayed with my very first BFF, Myriam, who is still the soul of awesome. We met and fell in love when we were 7 and my family was living in Stuttgart. We did many things during our weekend with her, but remembering the camera was not one of them. Some of the things you can't see are: a trip to the Munich Zoo, hilarity on the biggest and coolest swing I've ever seen, and watching Germany beat England in the World Cup while in a Biergarten surrounded by, literally, thousands of screaming Germans decked out in red, yellow and black. We remembered the camera 5 minutes before we pulled out and got a few pics of us girls.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXzSyvs_LDQZmA5YMOzjDeMlYPAHK66rjs9ctNk0wtYIf8E7NEA5A24cHRv3AR3eQA3aj8Ah7PgS_QbGorzN1g-6KdmnULXdwB-lfefGsiWJ_hd8ARickvLZOWAODSvZhfmoUYwpW300/s1600/DSC_0185.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1g8RGydcwgxvIbq6pxIY1CIjheaV0jdkWFDQP7bK9eo3S8MTxHnSm04WqIzBJgMzwOZjNovFcz9y6m3sDxGOTEiCZcIVu1gF3sHHE8dsMznuxx-yy6TK6NcFmG0VBFJ-qO-frSm6sSdQ/s1600/DSC_0165.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1g8RGydcwgxvIbq6pxIY1CIjheaV0jdkWFDQP7bK9eo3S8MTxHnSm04WqIzBJgMzwOZjNovFcz9y6m3sDxGOTEiCZcIVu1gF3sHHE8dsMznuxx-yy6TK6NcFmG0VBFJ-qO-frSm6sSdQ/s400/DSC_0165.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494603260904330402" /></a>We also forgot the camera during most of the first week we were in Linz hanging out with dad before the wedding, when we went to Salzburg and the Salzkammergut and when we hit the city of Passau on our way back to Germany. Passau, which is my new favorite German town. So cheerful and cute and beautifully situated!<div><br /></div><div>We DID remember the camera when we took a gondola up into the mountains. It was HOT while we were there, which is why everything was so hazy, but beautiful nonetheless. What you can't hear in this picture is the sound of cowbells in the distance as dairy cows meander through their summer pasture, and the almost breathless whirr of paragliders passing overhead. It was lovely.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfs84TPQjI-cXUgUz_Jz3zuNqqUAfkPaE-ojnl3ix-OuCZ_xXBoBG3dQHwGuLF7QD9dtthsbl91jWX6T5zzhCRx_9BJ3Wt_h8u-CJGkHZEcZO7OlK7ccE-ySN1OdfjhgkCNRNJ_fG3U_4/s1600/DSC_0173.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfs84TPQjI-cXUgUz_Jz3zuNqqUAfkPaE-ojnl3ix-OuCZ_xXBoBG3dQHwGuLF7QD9dtthsbl91jWX6T5zzhCRx_9BJ3Wt_h8u-CJGkHZEcZO7OlK7ccE-ySN1OdfjhgkCNRNJ_fG3U_4/s400/DSC_0173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494603245101697746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDvmYDPBvWr6mlLQfgZCdFAaAhYXldafB8fU6YO-JGB4LqqIzEJTO-TLR-4z4nOj79qu3t6Sp-nUWzejw6TXIEdJxHrLyjykQma0Y5s9vbeeY8zdyO5EaDQFOacrzTjG_NMC0RRDuO8E/s1600/DSC_0181.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDvmYDPBvWr6mlLQfgZCdFAaAhYXldafB8fU6YO-JGB4LqqIzEJTO-TLR-4z4nOj79qu3t6Sp-nUWzejw6TXIEdJxHrLyjykQma0Y5s9vbeeY8zdyO5EaDQFOacrzTjG_NMC0RRDuO8E/s400/DSC_0181.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494603239682269714" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXzSyvs_LDQZmA5YMOzjDeMlYPAHK66rjs9ctNk0wtYIf8E7NEA5A24cHRv3AR3eQA3aj8Ah7PgS_QbGorzN1g-6KdmnULXdwB-lfefGsiWJ_hd8ARickvLZOWAODSvZhfmoUYwpW300/s400/DSC_0185.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494603467357618850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span><div style="text-align: center;">It was so hot that we had to rest often and the kids took this opportunity to learn how to tie their shoes. REALLY?? THIS is the place, and THIS is the moment you NEED to learn to tie your shoes? OK. Weird, but they both learned.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqFXDsOkcdQxJVkQJtjZ51veMZM4YlGL-H6SfeQAlIEzTvCHA7DNkRH6hHmRTSiFv2HxxyFtGKVUpnxRRp8W0LRoQZ8bFWVpaf4S7wVjLe0-9sUL_6mwBAEFn0SiBfV_yVLfvOgoNuMQ/s1600/DSC_0191.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqFXDsOkcdQxJVkQJtjZ51veMZM4YlGL-H6SfeQAlIEzTvCHA7DNkRH6hHmRTSiFv2HxxyFtGKVUpnxRRp8W0LRoQZ8bFWVpaf4S7wVjLe0-9sUL_6mwBAEFn0SiBfV_yVLfvOgoNuMQ/s400/DSC_0191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494602524821189842" /></a>An aside. While we were up there, we had lunch at one of the huts that serves hikers food and drink. At the table next to us was a gang of men having a day out. They were aged young to old and in varying degrees of in-shapedness. They were all polishing off large steins of beer when the waitress brought over a round of shots. I assumed they were done hiking and would soon stagger over to the gondola and hitch a ride down. I was wrong. We finished eating and got up to leave at the same time they did. We all headed down the trail together, but they soon out-stripped us, even a drunk Austrian being faster than a 5 year old. I wished them happy hiking as they passed. LITERALLY 300 yards after we started we came to yet another hut that served food and drink, albeit it, not quite the variety of the first. By the time we got there, the gentlemen were already ordering their first round, and it dawned on me: we were witnessing an alpine pub crawl! When we returned by the same route 45 minutes later, they were paying and pointing to yet another hut that could be seen in the distance. They were going for it. These guys were not in shape, a few of them had not seen their toes in quite some time. They must have made it despite the heat and liqour because we didn't hear anything about a rescue of 15 drunk Austrians from the alps.</div><div><br /></div><div>Saturday, July 3rd (wedding day) dawned beautiful. We took a train to the wedding hotel. At the station, Zach took a picture of a train heading to a famous Austrian town (the other one being Fucking. Swear to God, that's how it's spelled!) When in Germany we saw signs for Pupping, which is spelled harmlessly but pronounced "Pooping." Zach and I have an infantile sense of humor, we giggled for miles.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5PFLl37VBZ3oR26kf5xRQTnRfE_Dbe9KiAt66YzHT6LchL-WT1Sm6jwYltOw27wDMBG_zMiCa0HNEb-kQnGMRIXKP6FVG8Cho4pEMz6qe4CKhOml1Yd2_6x-VoFGDvccxBgK7gHQL8o/s1600/DSC_0193.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5PFLl37VBZ3oR26kf5xRQTnRfE_Dbe9KiAt66YzHT6LchL-WT1Sm6jwYltOw27wDMBG_zMiCa0HNEb-kQnGMRIXKP6FVG8Cho4pEMz6qe4CKhOml1Yd2_6x-VoFGDvccxBgK7gHQL8o/s400/DSC_0193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494602521201099586" /></a><br /></div><div>Waiting for the train.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcHq923xG9hyphenhyphen0-8i8hTNqeVI75nCL-8dgTetB1A_38lfp-rLD7MRuDbQW1Ei4FM1U9aR_efvOUo4qitR5qpS6XcK6eNnmPKXq6ZGywB_ibOz5dcvz9OoHKrJhe-Rdz4AbiipwAImvEcI/s1600/DSC_0200.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcHq923xG9hyphenhyphen0-8i8hTNqeVI75nCL-8dgTetB1A_38lfp-rLD7MRuDbQW1Ei4FM1U9aR_efvOUo4qitR5qpS6XcK6eNnmPKXq6ZGywB_ibOz5dcvz9OoHKrJhe-Rdz4AbiipwAImvEcI/s400/DSC_0200.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494602510505022018" /></a><br /></div><div>Wheeeeee!!!!! Watch out for branches!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGV1ldvJ9N-oCxkkM1ss0osILcHALT5LoWIpVXQQbIsBnOXqeL-9RebB3HI_H_Xoy2Uo1MOTIRBGI-9Q-aCLnQq1e6xrIVUu9P5Nb7wV8giindLqNOHatm8j4XW5EYpnOPBcP1OHYBKs/s1600/DSC_0204.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGV1ldvJ9N-oCxkkM1ss0osILcHALT5LoWIpVXQQbIsBnOXqeL-9RebB3HI_H_Xoy2Uo1MOTIRBGI-9Q-aCLnQq1e6xrIVUu9P5Nb7wV8giindLqNOHatm8j4XW5EYpnOPBcP1OHYBKs/s400/DSC_0204.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494602507658072466" /></a>When we got to the hotel (which they rented in all it's entire, awesome, cool, glory,) there were several hours to unwind, swim, play raquetball whatever, before the ceremony.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIQGhr4gzJ4r1fy4Fys0Z1NDnKAfv5PBLohbXpXvON5Re3cbMGb_O4MgRxa4JECSreGNcz_gesLO4rQrGy9gIj37_BYMO5VwGA16QLE9x9-yLgK04rk1W9FPz0s90ag9ifggoSfiA7XA/s1600/DSC_0208.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIQGhr4gzJ4r1fy4Fys0Z1NDnKAfv5PBLohbXpXvON5Re3cbMGb_O4MgRxa4JECSreGNcz_gesLO4rQrGy9gIj37_BYMO5VwGA16QLE9x9-yLgK04rk1W9FPz0s90ag9ifggoSfiA7XA/s400/DSC_0208.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494601761445715026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMxHvlOE_QYe6rzEUydhyphenhyphenShcEfXzR1v3DD-_hcnrHkVEZcilKR1GaoqYoI13vfw42u1rSklNGmzHxoN1BN5ZXZsgSTghoCihzsqD85RL0Q2uN4BrE_TsrMKVDL2YaX37yt1zD37D1piw/s1600/DSC_0212.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMxHvlOE_QYe6rzEUydhyphenhyphenShcEfXzR1v3DD-_hcnrHkVEZcilKR1GaoqYoI13vfw42u1rSklNGmzHxoN1BN5ZXZsgSTghoCihzsqD85RL0Q2uN4BrE_TsrMKVDL2YaX37yt1zD37D1piw/s400/DSC_0212.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494601752386637394" /></a><br /></div><div>Below is my 1/2 sister Isabel. She's 9. Dudes, my next post is about my family, it's make-up and why the people who fight for the supposed "family values" have no idea what they are talking about. We are about as twisted a family tree as you can get, but you cannot tell me we are not awesome! I think that will be my next post.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqEUizKlv7GykDFGudwSFjIe36_u-JJAxAYkqQNSIamgIPX2BsJ1Y35BLwBu5N2TO9pM1WyS_lJQBCIJ8xK5zSO72HB5BxYLW4FQnk4_DMRFPyurPSe_TOb9pgx6xOKOE8_QnRQ7v3yc/s1600/DSC_0214.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqEUizKlv7GykDFGudwSFjIe36_u-JJAxAYkqQNSIamgIPX2BsJ1Y35BLwBu5N2TO9pM1WyS_lJQBCIJ8xK5zSO72HB5BxYLW4FQnk4_DMRFPyurPSe_TOb9pgx6xOKOE8_QnRQ7v3yc/s400/DSC_0214.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494601741726325762" /></a><br /></div><div>Isabel and her adorable and sweet friend Unji, whose name, I realize, I have no idea how to spell. Any Koreans out there familiar with that name? (pronounce Yuunji)</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6dudK2LrKQSPtOy9wkTqBHF1SI8KwczCty0N1aY2wlyOGtI_18_D5_jb2l6FTq2sSXZ6paJQUO7x9ykSEY7oBZyQYo-2IRRA-GdvWDhe_bBb2ftV9Ff4CEDSb3bhCfb1o4ifOp6vCgg/s1600/DSC_0222.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6dudK2LrKQSPtOy9wkTqBHF1SI8KwczCty0N1aY2wlyOGtI_18_D5_jb2l6FTq2sSXZ6paJQUO7x9ykSEY7oBZyQYo-2IRRA-GdvWDhe_bBb2ftV9Ff4CEDSb3bhCfb1o4ifOp6vCgg/s400/DSC_0222.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494601736647567122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlt-p0cLYvz3Cs9ijJzTa49Z_7NO1njQtkHOmMt1ldHi89YJREfDOBQ_Sa-1kJ7b_JdlTMOE8QvIb2O1UckCMXQOApt0Ffatg39zmGGT8A7lj1asqGNTOdh0T3EVxYbZTofHKXFECckuY/s1600/DSC_0225.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlt-p0cLYvz3Cs9ijJzTa49Z_7NO1njQtkHOmMt1ldHi89YJREfDOBQ_Sa-1kJ7b_JdlTMOE8QvIb2O1UckCMXQOApt0Ffatg39zmGGT8A7lj1asqGNTOdh0T3EVxYbZTofHKXFECckuY/s400/DSC_0225.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600997169379410" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9gIhbFtYczRO9xVslODL77bkQwJeu28oJ6VSPE9qbYloo6Ee2LJ4mKNIWylPpvo5ddRRFmOw9L5_3XkKRMm-qVyHJ-JGFwsgw1Q3WimzyrW_MeShDKo65kFAkBYt4BL6CSO0etApodks/s1600/DSC_0226.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9gIhbFtYczRO9xVslODL77bkQwJeu28oJ6VSPE9qbYloo6Ee2LJ4mKNIWylPpvo5ddRRFmOw9L5_3XkKRMm-qVyHJ-JGFwsgw1Q3WimzyrW_MeShDKo65kFAkBYt4BL6CSO0etApodks/s400/DSC_0226.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600988923449858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0e9fG-EOJXxDtn33zBiTUV3CXJb__MAscpNHrtjHXpZAwoSEILbvlnwinU5SJp-pI9DHTBnBIspaeUTuq8GIfVhpIUJL53U7X-1Mtu43SXPS8u3ybOGF_AjDIANwo_oP5Dx9AwVPc5Q/s1600/DSC_0231.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0e9fG-EOJXxDtn33zBiTUV3CXJb__MAscpNHrtjHXpZAwoSEILbvlnwinU5SJp-pI9DHTBnBIspaeUTuq8GIfVhpIUJL53U7X-1Mtu43SXPS8u3ybOGF_AjDIANwo_oP5Dx9AwVPc5Q/s400/DSC_0231.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600980025408914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyu5Rsay3woaF3aTZO1ngHWGO3SG5SgbIaRmbxZWY38B3XJkOBpT5aggYaahdMK_ttqEOB7Tvzsfr9jh1iDcWqVur6vH9Jnj8E65FbJcZ-BdCtqeuUToR3HEC6FxzMLhlxrIz0Pm2v4jA/s1600/DSC_0232.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyu5Rsay3woaF3aTZO1ngHWGO3SG5SgbIaRmbxZWY38B3XJkOBpT5aggYaahdMK_ttqEOB7Tvzsfr9jh1iDcWqVur6vH9Jnj8E65FbJcZ-BdCtqeuUToR3HEC6FxzMLhlxrIz0Pm2v4jA/s400/DSC_0232.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600970800216050" /></a><br /></div><div>Getting the flowergirl ready.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMd5fSS3crMaE3vWAd4eGAz59D8nw0MEutwQrn3LIhQoVjs03FeoarjMGngXZvCMCrfUOXbdqs-7BNHKgKnIVhabOLaa8-BtM4RO01i9OfSxxoTR5e-FY5pCE0wVtfactcVVQ6GbcqZ7E/s1600/DSC_0233.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMd5fSS3crMaE3vWAd4eGAz59D8nw0MEutwQrn3LIhQoVjs03FeoarjMGngXZvCMCrfUOXbdqs-7BNHKgKnIVhabOLaa8-BtM4RO01i9OfSxxoTR5e-FY5pCE0wVtfactcVVQ6GbcqZ7E/s400/DSC_0233.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600261820680770" /></a>Dressing the ring-bearer.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLaRYiEl8U5s9W8_TE8glRaKVxNwPtn3WSYtweIOOnKFWuLkpjRNC-PrXo6buuYgsg7TdXpo8GopYRP6Ad-zj520MIxr3TZWCv4niWz9zChHuvbU0fxNKMsg2jjR8KcxH25Mo5CeWxvo/s1600/DSC_0238.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLaRYiEl8U5s9W8_TE8glRaKVxNwPtn3WSYtweIOOnKFWuLkpjRNC-PrXo6buuYgsg7TdXpo8GopYRP6Ad-zj520MIxr3TZWCv4niWz9zChHuvbU0fxNKMsg2jjR8KcxH25Mo5CeWxvo/s400/DSC_0238.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600247190236434" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi473YV8t6WDoLDSlDXes4R5lDsJn2SnMctk353S9w9I91l_YOn51Rl_BbK71Mo2WPYD0S7VxpKifUHUUX0ofTTJR1LekqKw0Z4zMl4HV0OmueCcl3MEMdoycfuUQP9OP_5feQGGr1Me6A/s1600/DSC_0252.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi473YV8t6WDoLDSlDXes4R5lDsJn2SnMctk353S9w9I91l_YOn51Rl_BbK71Mo2WPYD0S7VxpKifUHUUX0ofTTJR1LekqKw0Z4zMl4HV0OmueCcl3MEMdoycfuUQP9OP_5feQGGr1Me6A/s400/DSC_0252.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600246237815074" /></a><br /></div><div>The blessing- water-carrier hugging the flowergirl.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQ-hOzYoFdXBoVf16oGpL4LOwEF9bwSvgNSBI55mF5KO_dCf2AlK9nuIPmwQ_t7qPQ0zuC4ezKcbgYmBpKJWzmBaFA3KkFV01NbxN3dTskSnymAIZRR9mtqewIxb4lDf1xJpg5Zxjglk/s1600/DSC_0250.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQ-hOzYoFdXBoVf16oGpL4LOwEF9bwSvgNSBI55mF5KO_dCf2AlK9nuIPmwQ_t7qPQ0zuC4ezKcbgYmBpKJWzmBaFA3KkFV01NbxN3dTskSnymAIZRR9mtqewIxb4lDf1xJpg5Zxjglk/s400/DSC_0250.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494600236130336754" /></a><br /></div><div>Now, it should be known that I adore my father and that, furthermore, he is clueless when it comes to pop-culture. So please know, it was not his intention to dress as Doctor Evil, but it was, alas, the result. The man is one hairless cat away from world domination! He, of course, has never seen the movies.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc03qT_UC62-fTfdsPhk9jOly7phqHpx4LQRvjBKTz6dJsiEOilCTiqY1XNYOfkMrY4syKXi7IlZ7PCclY_A6gcEKGHwccJRdZPZnk2zD6FQSFjWUshZRloaKSuRobYXJhQP_9lzU5d3g/s400/DSC_0259.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494631423561188850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFz8sSEVIxMpgHJ7AsYxuvPMJXircZDiGMEgY4hjzPf_e8mNvU0ILtcbZfXoFORZfi4LQIkwRCMqCne5-Loo0wiv3rnrbc76pGrZwpGBsDXJOtsZ-hQqPZttb4Kd_3raYUHtdLr0fDRM/s1600/DSC_0267.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFz8sSEVIxMpgHJ7AsYxuvPMJXircZDiGMEgY4hjzPf_e8mNvU0ILtcbZfXoFORZfi4LQIkwRCMqCne5-Loo0wiv3rnrbc76pGrZwpGBsDXJOtsZ-hQqPZttb4Kd_3raYUHtdLr0fDRM/s400/DSC_0267.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494599589757898082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAXIdgS-Mx6_ZOTrdYHUc5nvnRiW_G_PWalzoR6cHEbwcbpxV5FO6876cooG1pjmH-6nN0DQd0j3SPJ7aDBOwylfbi_GTFIG16qv7g1Irjh01EPDC3tSzpQWhk66QKKMNCERfBbylD54/s1600/DSC_0272.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAXIdgS-Mx6_ZOTrdYHUc5nvnRiW_G_PWalzoR6cHEbwcbpxV5FO6876cooG1pjmH-6nN0DQd0j3SPJ7aDBOwylfbi_GTFIG16qv7g1Irjh01EPDC3tSzpQWhk66QKKMNCERfBbylD54/s400/DSC_0272.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494599582498038066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cG65petwquNWJS2twHBqYjUlgxLx0yJXAqed-94OgTG4wcwASePktA34d2TAC2FyNV107zH1lX2UdUhmLmirGu72fjLu3brM_sEyCnFq24no1l3PvSC3Z935HsOf7mH7OOtrGxTtXwk/s1600/DSC_0278.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cG65petwquNWJS2twHBqYjUlgxLx0yJXAqed-94OgTG4wcwASePktA34d2TAC2FyNV107zH1lX2UdUhmLmirGu72fjLu3brM_sEyCnFq24no1l3PvSC3Z935HsOf7mH7OOtrGxTtXwk/s400/DSC_0278.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494599574168909458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjanKArX4yyqfzxQvJTJN1TLg7lLjne4bB9XP-wTgw8HxNCr2McbiHG-sGS7W0MMHxOraCDa6i3BC5JqqNkppza3CO_nJP_Q_CaazJv53vELtu7TQTefZARUMSftRCfilcD3WG2MQp5P_Y/s1600/DSC_0295.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjanKArX4yyqfzxQvJTJN1TLg7lLjne4bB9XP-wTgw8HxNCr2McbiHG-sGS7W0MMHxOraCDa6i3BC5JqqNkppza3CO_nJP_Q_CaazJv53vELtu7TQTefZARUMSftRCfilcD3WG2MQp5P_Y/s400/DSC_0295.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494599564058448178" /></a>Maki, his new wife, is lovely, and talented and sweet. She nursed him through cancer and all the kids adore her.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpzFwndVhGLeQkPEPikmNIYb-WpBMp6YNBL1GJxRFsFleL05XxL2U5ZqFOUm8G0Wr68PswbFnvhzPtg64EPyozP1eP1AFgRDyCZEHvlJNzx59ja5sKr0yvPxtukOCehW9Ez1LeLbfPQKE/s1600/DSC_0308.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpzFwndVhGLeQkPEPikmNIYb-WpBMp6YNBL1GJxRFsFleL05XxL2U5ZqFOUm8G0Wr68PswbFnvhzPtg64EPyozP1eP1AFgRDyCZEHvlJNzx59ja5sKr0yvPxtukOCehW9Ez1LeLbfPQKE/s400/DSC_0308.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494598689889602930" /></a><br /></div><div>This picture makes me very, very, happy.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIkfTS7KqoRhZ0hUfkjhiTTbeFidinGOxtE0RaMfMnwszfCDfqC62IWltCG5BwUNqJUgl9tx6mzkMDJqrEbYh0eJvwRfltTWEPDO-zaltpVHqzvd7NIWaQE1PnvnU-ysDwjEsXu0sxeg/s1600/DSC_0313.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIkfTS7KqoRhZ0hUfkjhiTTbeFidinGOxtE0RaMfMnwszfCDfqC62IWltCG5BwUNqJUgl9tx6mzkMDJqrEbYh0eJvwRfltTWEPDO-zaltpVHqzvd7NIWaQE1PnvnU-ysDwjEsXu0sxeg/s400/DSC_0313.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494598682856314530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV_Phy9B9KXUwgfgj9kI8qEbOsBFG7d4vDxJEaOCctiA1x7CnCua0nlAaDo7opDa7hT_mXaaxgdxD7zgn1bJR_j6rjXgaitRAqepNWHSNg8ZUXVG3TYmbdNcwwQLDjBu5QZGwfYXTwaA/s1600/DSC_0322.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV_Phy9B9KXUwgfgj9kI8qEbOsBFG7d4vDxJEaOCctiA1x7CnCua0nlAaDo7opDa7hT_mXaaxgdxD7zgn1bJR_j6rjXgaitRAqepNWHSNg8ZUXVG3TYmbdNcwwQLDjBu5QZGwfYXTwaA/s400/DSC_0322.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494597825473942530" /></a>Maki's mom came from Tokyo and sang several beautiful Japanese folk songs. She speaks neither German nor English (I speak German with Maki as do most people, dad included) but she sang beautifully. Maki translated the words. Then dad spoke to her in Japanese, which made me cry because it was very sweet and clearly meaningful to her. They will repeat the ceremony at a temple in Tokyo later this summer so Maki's family can be there.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2jyuTkrOm8Lj4-D7VYJQ_O6UPPhOmFCF0-xDZj7uVu5e5iBfSw-LYbBkACbU8BPNxUQpJA6vkkagk6tAjHWp5x06rHs1DFmfZzqFK_s1u3HzdCzObFGOzbukc4g7pVLSggwmXF20K0w/s1600/DSC_0332.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2jyuTkrOm8Lj4-D7VYJQ_O6UPPhOmFCF0-xDZj7uVu5e5iBfSw-LYbBkACbU8BPNxUQpJA6vkkagk6tAjHWp5x06rHs1DFmfZzqFK_s1u3HzdCzObFGOzbukc4g7pVLSggwmXF20K0w/s400/DSC_0332.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494597819289754210" /></a><br /></div><div>My gorgeous sister provided the music.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_gwSOvPzIJVOP8HItvQ93RNhS-FhQd4_Na0oroCGdkCZp4etfl4WQn3L8Cu97ip8PTgSnK86bLzRXYb8mbCrDsdqGi8E5mMMvUhrCi-W358G_aAQmQECLvy3YxJX9Xle7jtR-Th38ckU/s1600/DSC_0357.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_gwSOvPzIJVOP8HItvQ93RNhS-FhQd4_Na0oroCGdkCZp4etfl4WQn3L8Cu97ip8PTgSnK86bLzRXYb8mbCrDsdqGi8E5mMMvUhrCi-W358G_aAQmQECLvy3YxJX9Xle7jtR-Th38ckU/s400/DSC_0357.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494597546229561618" /></a><br /></div><div> word about the reception. The FOOD!!! Dear God, the FOOD! They spared no expense. It went on for hours. There was a different wine for every course. It was amazing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day we walked from the hotel down to the Danube, about 7 miles away, on a path that followed a lovely stream.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPdp2hWNke6kDe1kWA9WqlBNezVeu-EAtNwmCIOt_tmHVOe2z6GrQQWb6y2ISxsRISpGk9IdLKVr40wrmPDi9gvIzYyOYUNfxCDYZA3ch61d72s6wtmfmQpO0TtVdtEl0FgZhDg7NYt0/s1600/DSC_0374.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPdp2hWNke6kDe1kWA9WqlBNezVeu-EAtNwmCIOt_tmHVOe2z6GrQQWb6y2ISxsRISpGk9IdLKVr40wrmPDi9gvIzYyOYUNfxCDYZA3ch61d72s6wtmfmQpO0TtVdtEl0FgZhDg7NYt0/s400/DSC_0374.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494596304817984082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWqF9z5vWOgj66Ne48TEIwwva-YmQQzWqraBZYbfux_F4qtaalYlUzzZ3Mr5sgQusoavi2MDx3CUkl1LhEXNnIPP2KBgWNXfzy8wEAh4FPS0kObnCiGUBvX8EZDp9XAZFyPeMt_dTEBE/s1600/DSC_0375.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWqF9z5vWOgj66Ne48TEIwwva-YmQQzWqraBZYbfux_F4qtaalYlUzzZ3Mr5sgQusoavi2MDx3CUkl1LhEXNnIPP2KBgWNXfzy8wEAh4FPS0kObnCiGUBvX8EZDp9XAZFyPeMt_dTEBE/s400/DSC_0375.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494596295769095058" /></a><br /></div><div>Once there we were hosted to delicious coffee and cake at this castle, where my father's dear friend Heribert lives (in an apartment, not the whole thing.) His girlfriend Ula made all the cakes. They were amazing. Then we took a boat back to Linz on the Danube, about a 3 hour ride, which was great, but a little too long for those of us with 2 year old trying to fling themselves into the river. Fortunately they served beer onboard.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzpo14O4N-pysSLJqLOJa424GzIFEv0w2bVofitAKi6VpO_EnPzPxiGve2bDdRFVrIRQairsHDEAzfV-pS_PsX1VsPhgNKX1fVeXoaIj1f5YCEoevZJoEaV5vcPsrcayP_aDF6a0ct14/s1600/DSC_0379.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzpo14O4N-pysSLJqLOJa424GzIFEv0w2bVofitAKi6VpO_EnPzPxiGve2bDdRFVrIRQairsHDEAzfV-pS_PsX1VsPhgNKX1fVeXoaIj1f5YCEoevZJoEaV5vcPsrcayP_aDF6a0ct14/s400/DSC_0379.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494596294009396562" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">We were done taking pictures by the time we got on the boat. We were fried by then, but the kids loved it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, the weather was great, the trip was awesome and the wedding was beautiful and thoughtfully planned. We had a wonderful time and wish Dad and Maki every happiness.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Some thoughts on family coming soon........</div></div></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-293132957070869792010-07-14T13:49:00.000-07:002010-07-14T14:42:31.220-07:00Summer so far, Part I<div>Here is a heavily pictorial view of our summer to-date. It has been a bit nuts, but we are loving every hot, steamy minute. </div><div><br /></div><div>We have been fishing, a lot...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhccqhzD3l1JmPQlZWvId4h2zo8LD08r3_B_XkIL588iODfmgRFiKfpzMLMUZeyVHAHHUODPjm43OAjO8_deWiQQEoKiJFX71_9YWrYsJX6ToXrczVUJb9pt1n4R3MFGiTFt4EHPV2lceE/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhccqhzD3l1JmPQlZWvId4h2zo8LD08r3_B_XkIL588iODfmgRFiKfpzMLMUZeyVHAHHUODPjm43OAjO8_deWiQQEoKiJFX71_9YWrYsJX6ToXrczVUJb9pt1n4R3MFGiTFt4EHPV2lceE/s400/IMG_0955.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493872769007224418" /></a><br /><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMc7d2iuogsKH_CxDuJJZWC2Ffu8hVjYIQZ9v_qAyiYO71zhvQG9WXfh06rD3QfzzkkQ1r8djWqEx7xVJ0fXXDEO5bAGlQjcv81fMM9TOkz5iaYmDp6IkmAbZ2kq7-zx5BoT-CVOVeawE/s400/IMG_0931.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493871813260124274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><div>We have been going to concerts of all kinds.....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_85DaqTX93rBCrHh0mZ5_Ne7FiS7vZfmvQ6Qh9Umsowzp-cfEcS3CRGEcAq8mXT3ZA3HnwQYvULUmz6OkUj-_FZ5dt85jD-WzwOUKl5G27g2PTyW4j-SxBc07FJE2fK5llAXkxZD2Wrk/s1600/IMG_0949.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_85DaqTX93rBCrHh0mZ5_Ne7FiS7vZfmvQ6Qh9Umsowzp-cfEcS3CRGEcAq8mXT3ZA3HnwQYvULUmz6OkUj-_FZ5dt85jD-WzwOUKl5G27g2PTyW4j-SxBc07FJE2fK5llAXkxZD2Wrk/s400/IMG_0949.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493872515351105058" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>and at those concerts it is imperative that one wrestle with one's siblings...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6n44dSH1jcrFCkYblnLR9RegZ75IiGin2mH0yKr1zt0mfkeqbC5eZ1tmJfBjbWcLAwJGz8dlp-yOzMD5zwPdF6tGAbpFSx2UleA1ptrBzjROgePvcOuMfk_m1q9eSBMGYGNl6kcFyG3U/s1600/IMG_0947.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6n44dSH1jcrFCkYblnLR9RegZ75IiGin2mH0yKr1zt0mfkeqbC5eZ1tmJfBjbWcLAwJGz8dlp-yOzMD5zwPdF6tGAbpFSx2UleA1ptrBzjROgePvcOuMfk_m1q9eSBMGYGNl6kcFyG3U/s400/IMG_0947.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493872504445377730" /></a><br /></div><div>and then sit upon them in victory!<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6jAsnXYYAwm1SZgt0O1S7MPRyLjYXsTWrYrCyAizFFswBLoQOjT-hxJ0_41toRxxx4PbaxU4kPStSYBL6rW41f8bsRSglneam6T7Jq9SBgsb-KlqFvBhmHk_dQ0HBuy0fD8QnA3t71E/s400/IMG_0946.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493872493139219058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We spend an absurd amount of time bombing around grandma's place in the Toro...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYPR2A-CWRhrr5kuDC0VwillaRwjak0pDwkGZXeEsqJeJJ21c4pBtSr8LYStEWXouz-yBTu75bCQA3FBqE1SNGxEYJ25q9cZ-jXdwwXbNQL8k14iKNlwbKLCQ4sh9UbzLm5G1dixAJ_s/s1600/DSC_0324.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYPR2A-CWRhrr5kuDC0VwillaRwjak0pDwkGZXeEsqJeJJ21c4pBtSr8LYStEWXouz-yBTu75bCQA3FBqE1SNGxEYJ25q9cZ-jXdwwXbNQL8k14iKNlwbKLCQ4sh9UbzLm5G1dixAJ_s/s400/DSC_0324.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493871808911855266" /></a><br /></div><div>and having cookouts with our cousin.....</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivRHLmEhcDhcVYjWrrjXpCucSh11Qm0XYLwCrw9j42kZbEQPVc6Cn5zqCezr3WbItkhH-TCLb1atgWJh6tE86OJn5TKKP3bHnYP2VpSPBxtaXBW2nZLDN6OPAhqDoaJ5AbVL8aU8clBFM/s1600/DSC_0308.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivRHLmEhcDhcVYjWrrjXpCucSh11Qm0XYLwCrw9j42kZbEQPVc6Cn5zqCezr3WbItkhH-TCLb1atgWJh6tE86OJn5TKKP3bHnYP2VpSPBxtaXBW2nZLDN6OPAhqDoaJ5AbVL8aU8clBFM/s400/DSC_0308.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493871801419655234" /></a><br /></div><div>who has perfected the art of marshmallow roasting.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEwlNid5qSC8KRIlIInJSlLiV1nx_rEsnyeEehNwaHdnKpnqEq1qTdOjurBCVzNh0JyAHa15fRv52s05BK8RfiXcG06Ifyb3vbDdzMOPglP4sg_3Zfg1IlvEymjWKDmzBvYwXGubrpnk/s1600/DSC_0312.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEwlNid5qSC8KRIlIInJSlLiV1nx_rEsnyeEehNwaHdnKpnqEq1qTdOjurBCVzNh0JyAHa15fRv52s05BK8RfiXcG06Ifyb3vbDdzMOPglP4sg_3Zfg1IlvEymjWKDmzBvYwXGubrpnk/s400/DSC_0312.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493871793522965586" /></a>We went on our 2nd annual "Summer kick-off Campout!" with 9 families for a total of 18 parents and 20 kids. It was awesome. Kai caught and cooked his own small-mouth bass. He was so proud. His friend Jamie caught and cooked a pretty little rainbow trout.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigP5V8i_48ihAy_dFtLZ4vruAy7K8DUE08nEsTrx1y8uZi-KJIjxnXU3Ezmmpe8Ry3Iixzkb_1btC-zbtFDS9pZIDE6-HLj8Zw2ZRjg9B0DRJed8tCokZkOEE-hA4bz94Hty4Jwz2P3D8/s1600/DSC_0306.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeHnnTPLNUBFxZ7VlXfypyGap4MEme_z3kGtiFnYmvhUFKWcY_CebN-NHdXiiT87xiODyyYogDX6uyBulL1yKSRwcwjsAW97jNfr8aD7BlrjpN0p4ZQoAletEXxTcz6PIlNOHleCkBag/s1600/DSC_0295.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeHnnTPLNUBFxZ7VlXfypyGap4MEme_z3kGtiFnYmvhUFKWcY_CebN-NHdXiiT87xiODyyYogDX6uyBulL1yKSRwcwjsAW97jNfr8aD7BlrjpN0p4ZQoAletEXxTcz6PIlNOHleCkBag/s400/DSC_0295.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493870817081911090" /></a>Some of the handsome and cool dads of our town. Yes, Zach is one of them.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gtPaXO4hCOkfkbwN4W2EZGPFUCjj6tkfDAh8Q3DFN8j2Zo2-KH5d4wScacYZaK3-dT8rRf2TecaDEdHOBu1uuaYbYxyHuNQ5x5MJqObua4IRp7S8_XyN7yNyEJ2N_wVCM26Y-bgHjnQ/s1600/DSC_0286.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gtPaXO4hCOkfkbwN4W2EZGPFUCjj6tkfDAh8Q3DFN8j2Zo2-KH5d4wScacYZaK3-dT8rRf2TecaDEdHOBu1uuaYbYxyHuNQ5x5MJqObua4IRp7S8_XyN7yNyEJ2N_wVCM26Y-bgHjnQ/s400/DSC_0286.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493870804756218114" /></a><br /></div><div>The view. That was on night one, the next 2 days were full of glorious sunshine.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CXdqQGvMfv49Psavcetlduz2mWqdW9yYAd1nVXmND2jH2tgCyMjBvA-av6_bINzTOlsXrX-1MthNzjNnAFeyE52wLyAWx9Cpk8unNv6gqKPxR5TYvmk5FhHFtDO-ookBdy6NaEMJBc4/s1600/DSC_0280.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CXdqQGvMfv49Psavcetlduz2mWqdW9yYAd1nVXmND2jH2tgCyMjBvA-av6_bINzTOlsXrX-1MthNzjNnAFeyE52wLyAWx9Cpk8unNv6gqKPxR5TYvmk5FhHFtDO-ookBdy6NaEMJBc4/s400/DSC_0280.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493870797689717186" /></a>The hot tamale mamas and my awesome friends!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_881QLam8C7Q-ZTQv0encbCmsd5I48O5ABcDbfNR4An9FyTZc1fxvf6Nwcs4rXDsYXT6sywLk7r7THxYq38nRKe6f4XLLldTJeMxiiIn4YkQbJBapPK8NUCDMrQ3o0GP3Gfv9Uxy1hU/s1600/DSC_0282.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_881QLam8C7Q-ZTQv0encbCmsd5I48O5ABcDbfNR4An9FyTZc1fxvf6Nwcs4rXDsYXT6sywLk7r7THxYq38nRKe6f4XLLldTJeMxiiIn4YkQbJBapPK8NUCDMrQ3o0GP3Gfv9Uxy1hU/s400/DSC_0282.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493869944867006786" /></a><br /></div><div>My friend G made a school-bus pinata for the kids to destroy in celebration of the end of the school year. They really went after that thing.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj379a2LLM15qYhFG7zhS7Kk99jdRJKagYXfvlEfCG2P_a38Juh0dNs6ljjeNl22QljHuAAFjsvNbanqH4phuNcjXha2G5AYnNOP0Y2LyAXEpcQDqOd5Prxa2B2lu93SYo8xr5q99fY3w4/s1600/DSC_0285.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj379a2LLM15qYhFG7zhS7Kk99jdRJKagYXfvlEfCG2P_a38Juh0dNs6ljjeNl22QljHuAAFjsvNbanqH4phuNcjXha2G5AYnNOP0Y2LyAXEpcQDqOd5Prxa2B2lu93SYo8xr5q99fY3w4/s400/DSC_0285.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493869936072573426" /></a><br /></div><div>Some of the big girls painted faces......</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigP5V8i_48ihAy_dFtLZ4vruAy7K8DUE08nEsTrx1y8uZi-KJIjxnXU3Ezmmpe8Ry3Iixzkb_1btC-zbtFDS9pZIDE6-HLj8Zw2ZRjg9B0DRJed8tCokZkOEE-hA4bz94Hty4Jwz2P3D8/s400/DSC_0306.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493870822957753762" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and so did some of the little guys. Noah is also teaching himself to drive.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fFM9rwra7Gq6tJfZMdLKt4NCL0C_81WV4S_4AHMBkFWpcZp3VgNNCH_4ja1i_re6tZk79WYsNK35AhAstFHCejCBxSiTrUEBlR-qnicpqaejNdEQz6jfenks5VXKWJU7Wboz-xkDw0E/s400/DSC_0304.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493872495245040482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I made this dress for Grace.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF-ogL_VGaS6mPK_7cyqRunotrANgMrCoUzPwVhEsuA37YKwdHZ8-M4Dx-QkbdOpb-QjkeICJehMWQUaRwRHN1NQsu4s6wYR67cCdCJP_a1metEpJwcrfvBhS411pUIWaU8XDV8l_gV0/s400/DSC_0184.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493868959064660962" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Comfort and the ability to turn cartwheels in it were design essentials.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfsMCDX79VqN9afmwhhS0fMYMeDi2c4JgCIXAdqlVbJTL_zswlpWFjV4fWrcJcBNs9rbc2F1dp45kgoXiBPHUq-_EPzoCGl4eAq25ka_W3QBlBO7IRooK7tNOUcLKsfGSJzMWDbCOiYn0/s1600/DSC_0187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfsMCDX79VqN9afmwhhS0fMYMeDi2c4JgCIXAdqlVbJTL_zswlpWFjV4fWrcJcBNs9rbc2F1dp45kgoXiBPHUq-_EPzoCGl4eAq25ka_W3QBlBO7IRooK7tNOUcLKsfGSJzMWDbCOiYn0/s400/DSC_0187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493868970538518242" /></a><br /></div><div>Grace was a frog in the end of the year dance recital. The stage make-up freaked me right out, but they go up on an actual stage with lights and they get totally washed-out without it. The eye make-up was unnecessary, but once she saw other girls putting it on, it wasn't worth the fight to say no. It's really hard to see a little girl in grown-up make-up.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUk011cF17nwEuXD79FceQh0VcW-pRY3VWi8kq7Ffd2p_yRGIOsBuzrMxoGyud3gwGIOGVnX2RpRf7OOiIdccuw4wjL3fHbEhekfDivljE-R9xIN_Q283DQsyzkAbpbVgcF2-COOz_tG0/s400/DSC_0162.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493868940169459250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF-ogL_VGaS6mPK_7cyqRunotrANgMrCoUzPwVhEsuA37YKwdHZ8-M4Dx-QkbdOpb-QjkeICJehMWQUaRwRHN1NQsu4s6wYR67cCdCJP_a1metEpJwcrfvBhS411pUIWaU8XDV8l_gV0/s1600/DSC_0184.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5cq7bXPCKjTSWCuvA0d0rG3EJ750eOw06GjBKoaKnLGK9KMiJNGSyy-EeFY2sUhd1Xf25olIDuQ84ZrQNRqXgSxxIAU1NPfZ25ALwB8ywYEX05A2odGEZdlwXHZGEymcHGBeW4y_CQg/s1600/DSC_0174.JPG"></a><div><br /></div>Here she is warming up with the ladybugs, bluebirds and butterflies.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5cq7bXPCKjTSWCuvA0d0rG3EJ750eOw06GjBKoaKnLGK9KMiJNGSyy-EeFY2sUhd1Xf25olIDuQ84ZrQNRqXgSxxIAU1NPfZ25ALwB8ywYEX05A2odGEZdlwXHZGEymcHGBeW4y_CQg/s1600/DSC_0174.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5cq7bXPCKjTSWCuvA0d0rG3EJ750eOw06GjBKoaKnLGK9KMiJNGSyy-EeFY2sUhd1Xf25olIDuQ84ZrQNRqXgSxxIAU1NPfZ25ALwB8ywYEX05A2odGEZdlwXHZGEymcHGBeW4y_CQg/s400/DSC_0174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493868948656235410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The kids have been practicing their self-portraits.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUk011cF17nwEuXD79FceQh0VcW-pRY3VWi8kq7Ffd2p_yRGIOsBuzrMxoGyud3gwGIOGVnX2RpRf7OOiIdccuw4wjL3fHbEhekfDivljE-R9xIN_Q283DQsyzkAbpbVgcF2-COOz_tG0/s1600/DSC_0162.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1pi4dIXNrSk58hNdhVe8i6f9BnpYVY9870YSxasDyv8sylmTaFf_tnICO6vgS7WvaPZdKBr-mj1UodrkXb8mBPMp9bYQ2Dt4sPyApTcY1ME-iCifovnGlrTWuUqnTo2HJP6VjVkctCQ/s1600/IMG_0834.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1pi4dIXNrSk58hNdhVe8i6f9BnpYVY9870YSxasDyv8sylmTaFf_tnICO6vgS7WvaPZdKBr-mj1UodrkXb8mBPMp9bYQ2Dt4sPyApTcY1ME-iCifovnGlrTWuUqnTo2HJP6VjVkctCQ/s400/IMG_0834.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493867770507578914" /></a><br /></div><div>Kai, Grace and cousin Aldwyn decided to make instruments, one rainy day</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqrebdpHRfe44RbFrualjagh_D42JbkjPRicVflLVpDH744Vi_cb98Ar2siT09SDrmtZZvKuDgIAnhyphenhyphen0ChPNs3I0kXI_SVjGDU7dnQMS6FTzcWv9uhQLRfhlhKz2JqFFrgva_t6df1mE/s400/IMG_0789.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493867758664251714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Now they have a band called, naturally, the Rubber Band.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_f9apPhyd32FDRR3NnpbuofWPjS3C9yiFnsqgb18VoOMccdK8IilhXosbcpTf0nddeN_ZhdhNViu8ctjxoo1pQalP94gPjtjMVTrdqcJ85NW4a7Ct0MyeC2weIQdCHtnlkh8JZ-gD654/s1600/IMG_0793.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_f9apPhyd32FDRR3NnpbuofWPjS3C9yiFnsqgb18VoOMccdK8IilhXosbcpTf0nddeN_ZhdhNViu8ctjxoo1pQalP94gPjtjMVTrdqcJ85NW4a7Ct0MyeC2weIQdCHtnlkh8JZ-gD654/s400/IMG_0793.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493867761909529426" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Noah may actually be turning into a hotdog.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqrebdpHRfe44RbFrualjagh_D42JbkjPRicVflLVpDH744Vi_cb98Ar2siT09SDrmtZZvKuDgIAnhyphenhyphen0ChPNs3I0kXI_SVjGDU7dnQMS6FTzcWv9uhQLRfhlhKz2JqFFrgva_t6df1mE/s1600/IMG_0789.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLynM3d7W3dASpy-BpxTWXZlivpfVK04OL4zpIn-1lEBNzQ61LPTVrsaEwkeH8fctxzvZHRGrbz_7HUHnSGRlYh5xWqYrRQCWUlKfPV1JvgoTkF6zwNtFsA32poSRhaDy7mP9TE3UJw2Y/s1600/IMG_0761.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLynM3d7W3dASpy-BpxTWXZlivpfVK04OL4zpIn-1lEBNzQ61LPTVrsaEwkeH8fctxzvZHRGrbz_7HUHnSGRlYh5xWqYrRQCWUlKfPV1JvgoTkF6zwNtFsA32poSRhaDy7mP9TE3UJw2Y/s400/IMG_0761.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493867751295391602" /></a><br /></div><div>There is so much more. I still have to upload all the pictures from Austria, which are awesome, but I thought I would just start posting again with these so you all can see why there hasn't been much time for blogging.</div><div><br /></div><div>Back soon!</div></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-22772204730765583652010-07-08T05:50:00.000-07:002010-07-08T05:53:58.893-07:00I'm back......Sorry, we've been crazed! End of school and all the attending hoopla, and then we just got back from a 10 day trip to Austria and Germany to visit my dad and attend his wedding (his 5th! Whatever. She's lovely and he's happy and that is a whole other, albeit amusing, post.) So, let me just get over my jet-lag and then I'll post some of the many fabulous pictures we've taken over the last 6 weeks.<div><br /></div><div>Stay tuned!</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-37815633773858301932010-05-27T09:25:00.001-07:002010-05-27T10:55:02.550-07:00Someone's going in timeout!Well, a great big THANK YOU to everyone who so generously gave to the Kyrgyzstan food drive. I am still collecting some local funds and then off it goes to Adoption Options and on the Kyrgyzstan.<div><br /></div><div>Now, I have a little something to say about the oil spill. I am so tired of all these executives and politicians passing blame around to the next person. Nobody wants to take responsibility for this thing. Not even my fearless leader! Where is my President? These oil guys need a smack-down, and you are the man to give it to them. If you won't, I'm sure Michelle would be happy to. Step aside and let a mother dole out some discipline for crying out loud. 'Cause from where I sit, EVERYONE needs to go in time out. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is so hard to teach kids to take responsibility for their actions when all around them, the people with power are shirking their duty. But of course, I have to take responsibility for my part in the disaster. I drive an SUV. I like to justify it my explaining that I live in Vermont and need 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wd</span> and a third row because we have 3 kids. BUT, I am sure we could figure out a way to have a smaller car. I love to travel and they have not yet figured out a hybrid airplane, to my knowledge. I could be so much more vigilant in reducing my consumer footprint, but I forget, I get busy and then giant oil companies get greedy and lazy, and the next thing you know, brown pelicans will be BACK on the endangered species list. It can happen devastatingly fast.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I am saying, is that we have a lot of power here and we need to learn to use it. To teach our children responsibility to the planet and their neighbors by showing them a gentler way to live. We have the power to make our government push the oil companies aside and get this mess cleaned up. I would much rater see our navy deployed for this purpose than for a war. We have the power to put giant, multi-national companies in their place by being conscientious and careful consumers. They should be worshipping at OUR altars, not the other way around. All it takes is an agreement that WE, the people of the earth, matter and we aren't taking this shit anymore. Realizing that you don't need that thing being advertised on TV, that you can use your money elsewhere, or even save it. Realize that our decisions and our dollars have infinite power, and thereby we have a voice, and loud one, to speak for those who can't speak for themselves. I don't have a responsibility to any stockholders, I have a responsibility to my children and to you, yes YOU, my fellow human being, who are worthy of a planet that isn't destroyed by greed. There are more of us than them. Let's link arms and get something DONE. </div><div><br /></div><div>I would like my kids to be able to see the Louisiana marshland someday, if they want. I think it is their right to have a planet as unharmed as possible. Even if it means giving up my SUV.</div><div><br /></div><div>And thus <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">endeth</span> my wishful rant.......</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-25741978748393652502010-05-13T19:50:00.000-07:002010-05-13T20:03:02.454-07:00They are going HUNGRY, for Pete's sake!!OK, I know we are all pinched for cash right now. But we got an e-mail from our adoption agency, the one we used for Noah, saying that in the midst of the political crises in Kyrgyzstan, the kids in the orphanages are being forgotten. THERE IS NOT ENOUGH FOOD!!! As often happens in times of political and social upheaval, the most vulnerable citizens are being left behind. THEY ARE GOING HUNGRY!<div><br /></div><div>Sorry for the yelling, but these are Noah's former roommates we are talking about here. We knew there was often no electricity, or running water (a truck delivers it when the pipes don't work) but at least we thought they got enough money from the government to feed the babes. NOT SO NOW!</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am asking everybody I know for a $10 dollar donation. If you can do $10 per household member, or more, fantastic, but $10 is what I am asking. The idea is along the lines of "many hands make light work," or "even the smallest person can make a big difference." Believe me, every little bit helps. Ten dollars can go a long, long way food-wise.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yes, I know, this will not fix the problem, but I don't care. It will help get some food to some people who need it NOW, while we try to come up with some better solutions. And when I say "we" I mean the global community, because we are all beholden to each other, I don't care what anyone else says. This is every one's problem.</div><div><br /></div><div>Our agency, Adoption Options will make sure the money gets to the kids and is not intercepted by "helpers" or middlemen along the way. They are enlisting the help of the State Department and they have good contacts over there. Also, my darling husband has volunteered to be a courier if necessary.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, if you feel like spending $10 that will REALLY make a difference, please help us. Send me a private message for either my address or our agency's address and if anyone would like to see the actual appeal message, I am happy to share it with you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks readers!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now back to our regularly scheduled nonsense.....</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-30737237576514868962010-05-08T06:37:00.000-07:002010-05-08T12:09:08.397-07:00We all have our daysI have been feeling icky the last few days. Just sad, and frustrated and like I am not productive or doing anything of value. I know I am, according to many, doing "the most important job in the world!" but I am having a week where I feel like I am doing the bare minimum. It doesn't feel important, it feels monotonous. It feels like all I do is yell at them to stop fighting, a tactic which, I assure you, does not work. Yelling at people to stop yelling at each other, not a good strategy. A parenting tip from me to you. You're welcome<div><br /></div><div>I got bored like this, only more so, when I was in the working world too. My old job had many days that sucked. It's unavoidable. Life gets boring. But we live in a world where the media doesn't want to let us get bored. If we feel stagnant, there must be something wrong with us. Take a pill! See a shrink! Take more pills. Take a pill for that syndrome we call "LIFE." I took the pills, but I don't want to be numb anymore. I want to learn how to deal with and accept the "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ick</span>" feeling. I think there may be value in it.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is also the guilt factor. The thing with adoption is that there are always parents-to-be out there who have been waiting YEARS to have kids, gone through many <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">IVF's</span>, been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">through</span> failed adoptions or have simply run into the endless adoption waiting period. In light of all these people who are waiting and yearning, it feels wrong to have "days." I feel like I should just be walking around in a constant haze of gratitude all the time, and I am grateful, but that doesn't stop me from feeling like shit about myself sometimes. It's different than post-adoption depression, which is a kind of natural chemical letdown after the process of adoption. That is to be expected. I mean the body can only function on that kind of panic/boredom/excitement/thrill cycle adoption requires for so long before it seriously crashes. Adoption defines the whole idea of "hurry up and wait!" This funk I'm in is, well, a different funk.</div><div><br /></div><div>Have any of you seen that movie "Return to Me" with Minnie Driver? She is a heart transplant recipient and she gets a whole new lease on life. She is also fairly depressed and feels guilty because she thinks she should be happier, especially in light of the fact that the only reason she has the heart is because someone her age died and was an organ donor. She talks to her doctor about how she is feeling and he says "We all have our days." To which she replies "Yeah, but I don't feel like I should have 'days.'" That's how being an adoptive mother can feel sometimes. It feels like I am not supposed to have days. Especially since in my heart of hearts, I would love another child. I feel like, in order to prove I am worthy of the kids I have and the one I still want, I should never have "days". Compounded by the fact that everyone is, in fact, healthy, we have enough food and a good roof over our heads, I have a loving relationship with my husband and my family is close by, and it all starts to feel a little self-indulgent.</div><div><br /></div><div>But what happens if you don't indulge the self's need for sadness? Does it just build up like a stockpile of fireworks, which can be set off by the smallest spark? I remember reading somewhere that it is important to let kids be bored at times, because through boredom come the really big, imaginative ideas. The greatest games, the most inspiring art, the best scientific discoveries. Isn't a fair amount of dissatisfaction necessary to force the self to keep improving, or if not improving, at least moving along the road of learning? But at what point do we just become an annoying whiner? A grumpy bitch (which is, unfortunately how my frustration manifests itself)? That person no one wants to hang out with because they only gripe about their problems, which compared to <i>real </i>problems are not actually problems at all. I am a bit worried I have become that girl to my real life friends. Have you ever felt like you're not connecting with the people in your life? Yeah, that's me right now. And because we never really leave high school, that has me thinking that nobody likes me and they are all laughing at my outfits behind my back. </div><div><br /></div><div>Parenting is really freaking hard! You are surrounded by people, but not by your peers. The people you work <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">for's</span> idea of a performance review is a screaming fit on the kitchen floor. There is so much second guessing, and while I do in fact read, write, create and participate in the outside world, I don't get paid for it, so I am unsure of my own work's value. I, therefore, do start to wonder if I am doing a decent job when there is just one time-out after another and not 5 minutes in a row without someone ending up in tears.</div><div><br /></div><div>This, my friends, is a bout of existential angst. Am I only "Mom" or am I more, and wherein lies my worth. If you thought you were over this kind of crap in your early 20's when it was cool to be conflicted, I am here to tell you, you will struggle with it again and again. Unless you are an unnaturally healthy person emotionally speaking, in which case I can't talk to you right now. I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>p.s. Thanks for being my therapists, dear readers. The check's in the mail, I swear.</div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-64835140435421901972010-05-04T15:15:00.000-07:002010-05-04T16:33:14.270-07:00I make things.<div>One thing I make is spelling mistakes. I can't believe not one of you admonished me about my spelling of the word "traveler"over in the "About Me" column. No need to look now. I fixed it. It had an excess of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">l's</span>. One of the many perils of living with spell-check, if not used properly, it makes you look like a moron.</div><div><br /></div><div>Other things I make include this charming little ensemble for my brand new baby niece Alia.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigr3jlVHRgp4yYeQHeje0VY7MZ8PuJXp2A4IkHs0XEEA5p65cHkHd47ZcsgIXHqJVuTBja1kFb8WxUHN8Z3axbTxD6G6AdCPh9lFZPubXADSi8HfjiDLGVp2iViApiJApUDFIfSGONYQk/s1600/DSC_0128.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigr3jlVHRgp4yYeQHeje0VY7MZ8PuJXp2A4IkHs0XEEA5p65cHkHd47ZcsgIXHqJVuTBja1kFb8WxUHN8Z3axbTxD6G6AdCPh9lFZPubXADSi8HfjiDLGVp2iViApiJApUDFIfSGONYQk/s400/DSC_0128.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467542758022995730" /></a><br /><div>That right there, my friends, is buttery soft baby alpaca wool in what may turn out to be the unfortunate color of "Mango." I am having reservations about the color on new-born Caucasian skin. New-born Gracie skin, hell yes! New-born AA skin, double hell yes! But white kids can be awfully jaundiced in the beginning and I'm not sure that will be enhanced by a golden yellow baby bag. Also, alpaca is very, very warm. Possibly too warm for Brooklyn in May, but her lovely mother is too kind to ever say anything. Also, the thing is finished and therefore none of my reservations matter at all as tomorrow, it is going into the mail.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also, I wanted to make sure all my friends who love books, (and by that I mean the feel, the heft, the paper, the look, not merely the words) know about <a href="http://www.persephonebooks.co.uk/">Persephone Books</a>. I gave myself a little treat last year (OK, a big treat) and enrolled in their "1 book a month," program. Oh my goodness, I look forward to the end of each month! For then, in my black mailbox, there lies a white package with British stamps on it, and inside is a treat for the eyes, the mind, the hands, everything. I love their titles, I love their mission, and I sincerely love the care with which they republish these treasures of 20<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> century writing. The lovely grayish-blue covers, the carefully chosen end-paper with matching bookmark, all of it suggests publishing at its absolute finest. I highly recommend it. I read them and send them on to my mother-in-law, who, in theory, hands them on to her daughter and so on. They will make it back to me someday and I will get to re-read them, curled up in front of the fire with a cup of tea, a child nearby and the dog at my feet. I can hardly wait. Head over to the site and browse around. You won't be disappointed.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-47163413747559623642010-05-02T16:38:00.001-07:002010-05-11T19:52:20.605-07:00Wanting......I want another child. Specifically, I want a little girl. I want Grace to have a sister. As infuriating, or annoying a sister can be, NOBODY has your back, or will understand you like a sister. I have one. She is awesome, and we drive each other bananas. She is 8 years older than I am, and while that seems like nothing now, we barely grew up together. I would want Grace to have a sister she can grow up with.<div><br /></div><div>Zach is not feeling it. Although we have always said we would have 3 OR 4 kids, he is thinks we are done. I mean, he would love Grace to have a sister too, but he is overwhelmed a lot of the time. He also needs a certain amount of quiet and order during each day and this you do not come by easily when you keep adding kids to the pot. But he is my husband, and his needs are as important as my wants. Damn it. I hate this part of marriage. I really want to stomp my feet and hold my breath until I get what I want, but somehow that seems, I don't know, immature. I think that if a child fell out of the sky and landed on our door-step, Zach would be thrilled, but honestly, kids, they don't come that way. Trust me, I have scanned the skies looking for falling babies for many years and you know what? Nary a one have I seen. </div><div><br /></div><div>I get it, I do. We have 3 beautiful, healthy children who adore each other. We have 3 kids, when there are so very many people who are hoping, praying, dreaming of one. Or have lost one. We are so, so lucky. I know that. In fact, I think that is precisely WHY I want another one. If our kids sucked, I wouldn't be looking to add on.</div><div><br /></div><div>The adoption process is grueling (although, I do most of the dossier, so he wouldn't have to deal with that. It's the kind of busy work I actually enjoy, but makes him break out in hives,) and the trips are, well, it ain't Provence. They get tedious and God help you if you bring the wrong set of DVDs like we did on Grace's adoption. I'm sorry, but 24 is MORONIC!! Even vodka didn't dull the pain of that show.</div><div><br /></div><div>I understand not being able to visualize life any busier. I get overwhelmed daily. I have moments when I can't hear myself think, or stand in the kitchen for like, 5 minutes staring at the floor trying to remember what I was doing while being talked at by 3 different people, barked at by the dog when the phone starts ringing. I lose my temper daily. I crave time alone. The sheer number of parenting situations I don't know how to handle should be warning enough that maybe I should quit while I'm ahead.</div><div><br /></div><div>My family would disapprove. I would get that pinched lipped "uh hunh" my mom does when she disagrees with something but doesn't want to get into a confrontation. She learned it at Al -anon. Supposedly it is intended to convey to the listener something like "yes I hear what you are saying," without giving an actual opinion. But the thing is, the people in my family are INCAPABLE of not giving their opinion, it causes them actual pain. So my darling mother's "Uh hunh" comes out more like a "Boy does that idea suck!" and less like a neutral "isn't that an interesting thought!" It's in her face, and the very physical strain caused by not telling you what she really thinks. She can't help it, none of us can, it's on our DNA.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I know they all think I have my hands full. The whole world does. I am going to have to start charging people who say that to me, you know "BOY! You sure have your hands full!" Which is always said in front of my kids like they are some kind of burden to me, not people I dreamt of and wanted and flew half way across the world to find. They weren't accidents. Can you imagine? "Honey, I don't know how to tell you this, but somehow our home-study and I-600 got mailed in and, well, it's a BOY!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know why people feel it's OK to loudly and sometimes rudely give their opinions on other people's family sizes. "You're NUTS!" is one we heard a lot when we would tell people we were going for number 3. Gee, thanks. There are actually only a few people in my real world (you know, besides the entire Internet,) I even tell that I want another because I am tired of getting a look of horror or pity or revulsion from those who don't approve. People, we wouldn't be asking you to take care of it. WE would be it's parents. You would be in no way inconvenienced.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know all of the reasons not to have another, and yet I <i>envy </i>people with 4 kids. There is a really cool mom in whose daughter is in Kai's class who is pregnant with her 4th. It wasn't an accident, we chatted about it when they were trying. I think she is so <i>lucky. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I see pictures of big families on different blogs, and I feel a pang. Again, they are so lucky! There is an awesome mom who adopted from Kyrgyzstan to add to her 2 boys from Russia and then a year later brought a little boy home from China. Her house is a zoo, but they are having so much fun. I would, a million times, rather have a house full of kids than a house full of nice things. The clutter drives me crazy too, but it doesn't take that long to clear it up. I love the idea of a little clan, a group of us, a team navigating through life with each other to count on. I dream of the kids having loving, fulfilling relationships all throughout their lives. I know they can have that now, but I would be so sad to know that Grace might never have a sister. I know you can't have everything in life, but honestly, this is something we COULD do.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>I think about this a lot. I mean A LOT! I am scared to really have the discussion with Zach because I don't want the final answer to be no. He has said the door isn't closed, but I think he might be getting ready to latch it. I don't want to hear that "No." I mean, you can't force someone to have another child with you. Not if you want to stay married to that person, which I very much do. He is my love. Period. So that "No," would be one that I would have to accept and live with, and friends, I am very, very bad at not getting what I want. I suck at it, in fact. Can't I have this life lesson given to me on some other coveted thing, like, I don't know, a trip, or a car (as if I cared about cars,) instead of this thing I so deeply want? Probably not. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hate life lessons. They so often hurt.</div><div><br /></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8540174746455738474.post-76934886824636041602010-04-28T14:34:00.001-07:002010-04-28T19:46:31.762-07:00Texas and Geography (with a capital G)<div>So we went to Texas for April vacation. Mom and Polly have a house in Port O'Connor and I haven't been for 5 years. Only Kai has ever been there, which is shameful. The kids had a wonderful time fishing, wading waaaaaaay out in Matagordo Bay (which is 13 feet deep at it's deepest point), visiting with the Texas family, riding bikes and generally enjoying the warm humid weather. Below are some pictures...</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOn_wzgGb9ZOAK_tWk3BZyQr1TJufpyRdlV3wACCIDcNvWxc9GW5MfsI6qjtdB47StyYeJQtwmE-viFc-onVpZKD5SUKzkJTp3ma5HgtKYQaC4I2esCcOU9uIqP0v-bp7C6lUw607cwNk/s1600/IMGP0125.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOn_wzgGb9ZOAK_tWk3BZyQr1TJufpyRdlV3wACCIDcNvWxc9GW5MfsI6qjtdB47StyYeJQtwmE-viFc-onVpZKD5SUKzkJTp3ma5HgtKYQaC4I2esCcOU9uIqP0v-bp7C6lUw607cwNk/s400/IMGP0125.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465321795516361218" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_xxlSgrfi8FyCaTaj_26LD-6Hy8Zcg4DwT40eIN6HbupOI0pD2vpCg9isBDvAWJnvz14pMc-TDMUy8xWCec9K-FVzT_ZpSFoPgDAPFja9gYsafumXsRPldXdsg0HBR2yO4CGRi7UJxU/s1600/IMGP0122.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_xxlSgrfi8FyCaTaj_26LD-6Hy8Zcg4DwT40eIN6HbupOI0pD2vpCg9isBDvAWJnvz14pMc-TDMUy8xWCec9K-FVzT_ZpSFoPgDAPFja9gYsafumXsRPldXdsg0HBR2yO4CGRi7UJxU/s400/IMGP0122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465321789786396370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_i_qzEIdf1Ax5Gif7rmpHjAeIfKF4dxjhVhyphenhyphenQ9wvAsBo6lmind2HdDRkal18q2SWrzKuJgCPp26TEc76gpnLudlxmKHJbzVir3zW7nCoDdeubFThfCbRGfA8zDM-W8ZZd7PH76lM-E_0/s1600/IMGP0114.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_i_qzEIdf1Ax5Gif7rmpHjAeIfKF4dxjhVhyphenhyphenQ9wvAsBo6lmind2HdDRkal18q2SWrzKuJgCPp26TEc76gpnLudlxmKHJbzVir3zW7nCoDdeubFThfCbRGfA8zDM-W8ZZd7PH76lM-E_0/s400/IMGP0114.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465321782077576258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQiWNb8TZLA4Sa9ATGspXkP52yJT5nHaVaVKnGQQD0aFGMDmhdvLWz_-LprN7y-pVJ-FbpPfGC5nP2T3JVhdAILF7kBLr1ZW1u-Oghn2wMraDr1Rne2HZ27XXZCXzjLlteWMZBawWSHj8/s1600/IMGP0151.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4cAfbwpe_KHBtzsZM-Pz82Xa_qkEIEi3LCc0ky6_8FGwFsUHeZHtMDxLnW1GmVazPzM7u3h1SVQ_xYWgQeBU6wKmscXFyScAC0F_fI0vFyXiV_G-ozCWofNlSH2IERwEpBMcGzJhxIQ/s400/IMGP0181.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465321054484935282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcR_X2LdXAygqGZlP7_i_MfcQZv8_c-5wjo1gAF22S379dU-gsBch6IKl-4qwY2QSYH9QLB3WYd99p9YL2NQ31kB7zOMGyvJbYNPz0UnaCybPH1D-p7gQM-6X7WdIvaeOiOd5uO-E8TYQ/s1600/IMGP0186.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcR_X2LdXAygqGZlP7_i_MfcQZv8_c-5wjo1gAF22S379dU-gsBch6IKl-4qwY2QSYH9QLB3WYd99p9YL2NQ31kB7zOMGyvJbYNPz0UnaCybPH1D-p7gQM-6X7WdIvaeOiOd5uO-E8TYQ/s400/IMGP0186.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465321045000343266" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAU_AENp1edULmZI33PIpkQUJjdtc99221PezcFQqqwIIwvDbgUhyG5m0iJp1i5Ij3ZSy3GWjwt1y7TfL72AIYdW1asqNd7krMAFW9AuVqtq2tzyq9goiwCWrTe3F1seuozlmyTK3TEdI/s1600/IMGP0190.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAU_AENp1edULmZI33PIpkQUJjdtc99221PezcFQqqwIIwvDbgUhyG5m0iJp1i5Ij3ZSy3GWjwt1y7TfL72AIYdW1asqNd7krMAFW9AuVqtq2tzyq9goiwCWrTe3F1seuozlmyTK3TEdI/s400/IMGP0190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465321040955419666" /></a><br /><div>So, that was fun. </div><div><br /></div><div>My darling sister chose to visit family in France during this holiday, which at first made me jealous because I love France like I love, well, LIFE. However, there was a wee volcanic eruption that week and her travel plans got a teensy bit messed up. It took her 4 days to get to the South of France.....from Rome. Italy. As in, right next door. They got from the States to Rome fine, but then it all unravelled. Obviously the trains were all very crowded, but that wasn't helped by the fact that the regional trains in France, and this should surprise NO ONE who has spent any time there, were on, you guessed it, STRIKE! Yes, the strike, that most beloved of French pastimes. When I was living ion Paris there was one every week, from air traffic controllers to nurses to the metro drivers (that one was a bit of a bummer but I was 18 and able bodied so I wasn't too affected.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, My sister and nephew had a ridiculous journey in which they were offered a flight to Marseilles via Algeria. And how was she supposed to get to Algeria? By boat? Thanks, but we'll try a different route, like maybe over the Alps by elephant! They wound up sneaking onto the TGV and sharing a compartment with some ladies of a certain age who also snuck on. The conductor didn't check tickets, I think they were probably feeling bad for people at that point. Anyway, they got to our relatives' safely, but there was still the pesky question of how to get home.</div><div>When they were trying to rebook those flights, along with tens of thousands of other people, the guy at American Express told her he could get her on a plane out of Glasgow. Silence. "But we're in the south of France." To which he replies, "Can't you just take a train to Glasgow?" Really? REALLY?? </div><div>OK, I am about to make disparaging remarks about Americans and their willful lack of knowledge of geography. Prepare yourselves. What the hell is going on here? It seems to me that I have been confronted by this kind of idiocy far more frequently than I ought to be. I love Americans. We are generally a very warm, open and cheerful lot. We have, as a people, an excellent sense of humor and tend to abide by the rules of fair play and decency. (Please note that I am talking about the American PEOPLE, not the government. Most emphatically not the government. Even with my guy in the White House.) However, there seems to almost be a kind of pride people take in their own cluelessness, as if it were cool to be ignorant. Please believe me, IT IS NOT COOL! (Neither is typing in caps, but I can't help it tonight.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Case in point. The Burlington Airport at, like, 4am. Zach and I and our THREE small children ages 6, 5 and almost 2 have been bumped from the first flight that is to get us to the Bahamas. They let us go all the way through security before they let us know that, even though the bitch, I mean woman, at the check in counter was the one who bumped us. Anyway. I am standing there trying to get us on some flight to anywhere that can get us to Nassau so we can catch the little plane to the Out Islands. She tells us we can leave in two days or (and she says this with a completely straight face,) "you can drive to Charlotte and catch your connection to Nassau there." I stare at her for a minute. She repeats it. "Charlotte<i>, North Carolina?</i>" I say with an emphasis that I hope conveys the distance we are talking about. She says yes, that is the one and that none of the flights out of there are full. I say "Yes, they may not be full, but they are also leaving out of <i>North Carolina!</i>" Again, please note the emphasis because I assure you, she did not. She finally looks at me and says "What? Is that far?" I blink. "About 18 hours." At which point she says, "Well jeez, I don't know where Charlotte is." At which point I had to pretend that there was something very exciting happening in my carry-on.</div><div><br /></div><div>She worked at an AIRLINE. One whose hub was in the very airport we were talking about. </div><div><br /></div><div>People, get maps, hang them on walls. Study them. Bathrooms make excellent places for maps and atlases. I mean, who doesn't want a little reading material in the WC. </div><div><br /></div><div>I get that there will be places that people don't know about. I didn't expect everyone I told about Noah's adoption to know where Kyrgyzstan is (although given the sheer number of military service men and women who have gone through there over the last 8 years, you would think more people would,) but to not understand that Glasgow, Scotland cannot be reached from Uzes, France in less than 24 hours without involving air travel is frankly a bit pathetic. Especially if you are a TRAVEL AGENT!!! And don't get me started on little miss sunshine who was oddly proud of not knowing that North Carolina and Vermont aren't really convenient driving distance apart. </div><div><br /></div><div>There's more. When living in New Mexico, I was asked what it was like to be from Canada. I had to explain that Vermont was indeed a state. One of the early ones too! When I first applied to school in Santa Fe, someone in Vermont asked me why I wanted to study out of the country. People PLEASE! I don't have time for this kind of crap. I have definite weak points in knowledge of things too, I get it, you can't know everything, but come ON. </div><div><br /></div><div>OK, rant over. I am just going to start buying atlases and handing them out randomly to people who look lost or say stupid shit from now on. Maybe Mapquest is to blame for this. Maybe people have just gotten lazy. Whatever, it's a damn, and annoying, shame.</div><div><br /></div>April Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08238041316483024640noreply@blogger.com9