<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858</id><updated>2011-12-02T11:58:11.215-06:00</updated><category term='Charlotte'/><category term='Cheryl'/><category term='Fitness'/><category term='photography'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Holiday'/><category term='God'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Eric'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Parenting'/><category term='Winter'/><category term='Homeschooling'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='Water'/><category term='Mike'/><category term='fall'/><category term='Small Group'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='Starfish'/><category term='summer'/><category term='Cats'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Bible'/><category term='Thrifty'/><category term='Recipe'/><category term='Miscellaneous'/><category term='Jesus'/><category term='Spring'/><category term='Education'/><category term='Books'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>Well of Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Life, thoughts, and photos from Illinois</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>167</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6931500855666856498</id><published>2011-12-02T09:01:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T09:05:34.435-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>There's Some Laughing Going On</title><content type='html'>And it isn't here on earth.    Bionic Battery is stronger than ever.  To catch yourself up,  read &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/11/fyi.html"&gt;Here &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/bionic-battery.html"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;.    I have to believe that my Mom and Al are laughing and laughing in Heaven right now.  They were the ones who gave Eric that thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6931500855666856498?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6931500855666856498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6931500855666856498&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6931500855666856498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6931500855666856498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/12/theres-some-laughing-going-on.html' title='There&apos;s Some Laughing Going On'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6645086702754448683</id><published>2011-10-21T19:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T19:13:04.549-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Another Day At School</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Don't you wish your math class had been this comfortable?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-faJCv3rNzwc/TqIJGkA6f4I/AAAAAAAABA8/FFYqTBCbrT0/s1600/HomeschoolDesk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-faJCv3rNzwc/TqIJGkA6f4I/AAAAAAAABA8/FFYqTBCbrT0/s400/HomeschoolDesk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666101289536880514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. - I have no idea why my kids weren't punching each other over who got the chair this day.   Naturally I had to capture the rare moment with the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6645086702754448683?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6645086702754448683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6645086702754448683&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6645086702754448683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6645086702754448683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/10/another-day-at-school.html' title='Another Day At School'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-faJCv3rNzwc/TqIJGkA6f4I/AAAAAAAABA8/FFYqTBCbrT0/s72-c/HomeschoolDesk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5403017837483453678</id><published>2011-07-12T11:46:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T15:14:31.655-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Education'/><title type='text'>A few words about the NEA's Resolutions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I got off on a rabbit trail today for sure!   The HSLDA posted an article about the latest NEA annual convention in Chicago and said that again, the NEA denounced homeschooling.  I've long believed (even when I was in college to become a teacher) that the NEA wasn't what they claimed to be, but this denouncing business.....well I wanted to know more about that, because that means they're denouncing my family.     So off I went in search of what the NEA had to say about homeschooling, and then whoa, got wrapped up in their 106 page resolution document.   I felt I had to comment on some of the things I found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to check my quotes (in blue), check it out here.    &lt;a href="http://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&amp;amp;q=cache:vTIo9jhAQjUJ:www.nea.org/assets/docs/HE/resolutions-documnent-2010-2011.pdf+homeschooling+nea+position&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;gl=us&amp;amp;pid=bl&amp;amp;srcid=ADGEESip1tBZtlIu4tdTo3G0ZB-f6EHIyFN1NBzD2IVhwGAtSh0x8ByS1g8KxRGXTc4u-mmQnUHcj7CWkJ4tnerOPMwDHw2N_jLKjzMgTZG4aiXkztlL0JpT_k6m53Cz3JLk4mBFCLtt&amp;amp;sig=AHIEtbSVY0JXZuvbrVdAteZ_69onoQNUDA&amp;amp;pli=1"&gt;National Education Association 2010-2011 Resolutions&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A-11. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Use of Closed Public School Buildings.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association  believes that closed public school buildings should be sold or leased  only&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;to those organizations that do not provide direct educational  services to students and/or are not in direct competition with public  schools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Is the NEA afraid that a better school might move into the 'hood?    I mean we wouldn't want that to happen, because the kids might have a better educational choice than a government/union-run school.     What's the NEA got to be afraid of IF they're offering the best education possible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The NEA also seems to think they paid for those buildings and not, you know, the tax payers, who probably don't give a rip who buys or rents the building so long as they don't have to continue paying upkeep on a building that's not being used.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;A-14. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;Financial Support of Public Education.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association believes that: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; Funds must be provided for programs to alleviate race, gender, and  sexual orientation discrimination and to eliminate portrayal of race,  gender, sexual orientation and gender identification stereotypes in the  public schools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;B-51. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sex Education.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association recognizes that the public  school must assume an increasingly important role in providing the  instruction. Teachers and health professionals must be qualified to  teach in this area and must be legally protected from censorship and  lawsuits. The Association also believes that to facilitate the  realization of human potential, it is the right of every individual to  live in an environment of freely available information and knowledge  about sexuality and encourages affiliates and members to support  appropriately established sex education programs. Such programs should  include information on sexual abstinence, birth control, family  planning, diversity of culture and diversity of sexual orientation and  gender identification, sexually transmitted diseases, incest, sexual  abuse, sexual harassment, and homophobia.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; B-52. &lt;b&gt;HIV/AIDS Education.&lt;/b&gt; The National Education Association  believes that educational institutions should establish comprehensive  human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) and acquired immunodeficiency  syndrome (AIDS) education programs as an integral part of the school  curriculum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;B-71. &lt;b&gt;Conflict Resolution Education.&lt;/b&gt; The National Education  Association supports the adoption and use, at all educational levels, of  proven conflict resolution strategies, materials, and activities by  school districts, education employees, students, parents/guardians, and  security personnel as well as the school community to encourage  nonviolent resolution of interpersonal and societal conflicts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;B-39. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Multicultural Education.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The National Education  Association believes that multiculturalism is the process of valuing  differences and incorporating the values identified into behavior for  the goal of achieving the common good. Multicultural education should  promote the recognition of individual and group differences and  similarities in order to reduce racism, homophobia, ethnic and all other  forms of prejudice, and discrimination and to develop self-esteem as  well as respect for others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At what point will the teaching of math, reading, history, and geography commence, and when will the schools cease to be used as the fixer of societal ills?    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A-25. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Voucher Plans and Tuition Tax Credits.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The Association  opposes voucher plans, tuition tax credits, or other such funding  arrangements that pay for students to attend sectarian schools. The  Association also believes that any private school or agency that  receives public funding through voucher plans, tax credits, or other  funding/financial arrangements must be subject to all accountability  measures and regulations required of public schools&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically the NEA opposes people using &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; money (tax dollars) to educate&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; their &lt;/span&gt;children at a school of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; choice.  I mean that almost sounds American or something and we can't have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, in most states, home educators are classified as private schools.  See how the NEA wants to get their foot in the door to regulate home educators?   This is why the &lt;a href="http://www.hslda.org/"&gt;HSLDA&lt;/a&gt; has advised home educating parents to reject any and all vouchers from the government, because vouchers will come with strings attached.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  And read the last sentence of B-82 below.   Notice how greedy the NEA is - they want home educators' money, but by  golly they aren't going to give them anything for those dollars except attempts to regulate them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;B-82. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Home Schooling.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The National Education Association believes  that home schooling programs based on parental choice&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; cannot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;provide  the student with a comprehensive education experience. When home  schooling occurs, students enrolled must meet all state curricular  requirements, including the taking and passing of assessments to ensure  adequate academic progress. Home schooling should be limited to the  children of the immediate family, with all expenses being borne by the  parents/guardians. Instruction should be by persons who are licensed by  the appropriate state education licensure agency, and a curriculum  approved by the state department of education should be used.   The Association also believes that home-schooled students should not  participate in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; extracurricular activities in the public schools&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will refer you to this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.homeschoolnewslink.com/homeschool/articles/vol6iss5/vol6iss5_NEAPosition.shtml"&gt;article here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The author really makes you look in-depth at how illogical the NEA is.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;H-1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;The Education Employee as a Citizen.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association urges  its members to become politically involved &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;and to support the political  action committees of the Association and its affiliates. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; H-7. &lt;b&gt;National Health Care Policy.&lt;/b&gt; The National Education  Association believes that affordable, comprehensive health care,  including prescription drug coverage, is the right of every resident.  The Association supports the adoption of a single-payer health care plan  for all residents of the United States, its territories, and the  Commonwealth of Puerto Rico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I-2. &lt;b&gt;International Court of Justice.&lt;/b&gt;    The Association urges participation by the United States in deliberations before the court. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I-3. &lt;b&gt;International Criminal Court.&lt;/b&gt; The Association believes that  the United States should ratify the Rome Statute of the International  Criminal Court and recognize and support its authority and jurisdiction. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I-9. &lt;b&gt;Global Climate Change.&lt;/b&gt; The Association believes that humans must take steps to change activities that contribute to global climate change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I-12. &lt;b&gt;Human Rights.&lt;/b&gt; The National Education Association believes  that the governments of all nations must respect and protect equal  access to education as embodied in the United Nations Universal  Declaration of Human Rights. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I-17. &lt;b&gt;Family Planning.&lt;/b&gt; The National Education Association  supports family planning, including the right to reproductive freedom.  The Association also urges the implementation of community-operated,  school-based family planning clinics that will provide intensive  counseling by trained personnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:85%;" &gt;I-34. &lt;b&gt;Gun-free Schools and the Regulation of Deadly Weapons.&lt;/b&gt; The  Association believes that strict prescriptive regulations are necessary  for the manufacture, importation, distribution, sale and resale of  handguns and ammunition magazines. A mandatory background check and a  mandatory waiting period should occur prior to the sale of all firearms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Excuse me, but what is all this doing in the resolutions of the National Education Association?  What on earth does this have to do with teaching kids how to read, write, our place in history, and where Sri Lanka is on a map?   I guess I'm out-of-date on what an education consists of these days.  One could conclude that the NEA is pushing their own agenda, which incidentally isn't about teaching the 3 R's to children &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;afterall&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I-33. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Freedom of Religion.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association opposes any federal legislation or mandate that would require school districts to schedule a moment of silence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I think this should be changed to Freedom &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From&lt;/span&gt; Religion, because that's what this is all about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;B-24. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Education of Refugee and Undocumented Children and Children of Undocumented Immigrants.&lt;/span&gt;  The NEA believes that regardless of the immigration status of  students or their parents, every student has the right to a free public education in an environment free of harassment....the association supports access to higher education for undocumented students and access to financial aid and in-state tuition....where they reside.  The association further believes that students who have resided in the United States for at least five years at the time of high school graduation should not be held responsible for the decisions they were not legally able to make but rather should be granted legal residency status.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I-22. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Immigration.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association opposes any immigration policy  that denies educational opportunities to immigrants and their children  regardless of their immigration status&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A free education &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;where&lt;/span&gt;?  Here in the USA?  There the NEA goes again, spending our money like it's their own.   So, how do you feel about illegal immigrants coming to our country with their illegal status children, who then receive a free education and resources (free from harassment of course; those pesky government immigration workers).  Then their reward is to be granted immediate residency status because it wasn't their fault their parents came to the country illegally.  Does it sit well with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get that it's not the student's fault their parents brought them here, but the penalty for illegally coming into the country is expulsion - you and your illegal family.   Is it fair to break the law and then expect something great to come out of it?   Or is it fair for wrong-doers to take responsibility for their actions, especially when those actions effect other people?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How do you feel about undocumented students getting financial aid that could've gone to a legal American citizen?   The NEA thinks the undocumented student should have equal access to financial aid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm a radical thinker in this matter, but I believe that if you're not a legal citizen or married to a legal citizen, then you AND your children (who may or may not have been born in the USA) should not be considered legal citizens and should not receive any benefits thereof.   This isn't the 1800's anymore when people were coming through Ellis Island to start a new life in a virtually empty country.  These are people sneaking into the USA, undocumented, and in many cases, getting access to things they haven't earned a right to.  That's wrong.  (and don't go bother me with stories about people coming into this country because of political unrest in their homeland, etc. etc.   We all know I'm not talking about those people.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;B-30. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Educational Programs for English Language Learners.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;  The Association believes that ELL students should be placed in  bilingual education programs to receive instruction in their native  language from qualified teachers until such time as English proficiency  is achieved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I-58. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Linguistic Diversity.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; The Association believes that efforts  to legislate English as the official language disregard cultural  pluralism; deprive those in need of education, social services, and  employment; and must be challenged.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; Ebonics anyone?   I think I have an idea what the NEA is trying to say here.  Let's keep non-English speaking students segregated in ESL classes for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; at the tax payer's expense.  We wouldn't want to place non-English speaking students in a class for, say, an entire year where they learn nothing other than the English language so that they can then assimilate into regular classrooms and be a part of the cultural diversity of their school.  No, segregation based on language is a far better option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;(As an aside, I was friends with Maria, a young girl who came to this country when I was in second grade.  I didn't know her that year because she was learning the English language her first year in this country.  She then joined her classmates the following year, albeit a year older than the rest of us, and then continued her education as a regular 'ole kid in a regular 'ole classroom, graduating from high school.  Imagine that.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;C-15. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Extremist Groups.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The National Education  Association condemns the philosophy and practices of extremist groups  and urges active opposition to all such movements that are inimical to  the ideals of the Association.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First thing I had to do was look up the word "inimical".  Big, fancy word that means unfriendly, antagonistic.   Makes me wonder why they didn't just use that word instead of a word that's not seen in every day language.   "The NEA condemns the philosophy and practices of extremest groups and  urges active opposition to  all such movements that are antogonistic to the ideals of the Association. "  It definitely has a more militant sound to it, for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to section C-15 of the resolutions.  Basically anyone who is unfriendly or even antagonistic to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ideals &lt;/span&gt;of the NEA is an extremist group??   Talk about extreme thinking.  CONDEMN ANYONE WHO OPPOSES YOU.  Sounds like the talk of an extremist group to me, and definitely one that home educators, as well as parents who use public education, should be wary of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5403017837483453678?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5403017837483453678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5403017837483453678&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5403017837483453678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5403017837483453678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/07/few-words-about-neas-resolutions.html' title='A few words about the NEA&apos;s Resolutions'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-9068949286703320552</id><published>2011-07-06T16:32:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T16:47:14.329-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>When you give a carpenter a new deck....</title><content type='html'>We decided that our old deck (20+ years) needed to be replaced.  It was so bad that you couldn't even walk barefoot on the deck without chancing splinters in your feet.    While we were at it, we decided to put in a pool.  And while we were at that, we decided to add in an upper deck to access said pool.  While it's not 100% complete (the deck portion, that is), the pool has been getting a work-out since it warmed up in late May.   Here's a few photos of the kids showing off their moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-px1K0scrUyE/ThTVFKHM9zI/AAAAAAAABA0/1EaeYWwWuSU/s1600/KidsWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-px1K0scrUyE/ThTVFKHM9zI/AAAAAAAABA0/1EaeYWwWuSU/s400/KidsWeb.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626356119083218738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tx06Ep6OM7E/ThTVAVtCejI/AAAAAAAABAs/6-EYzXam8AY/s1600/Charlotte1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tx06Ep6OM7E/ThTVAVtCejI/AAAAAAAABAs/6-EYzXam8AY/s400/Charlotte1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626356036295359026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IFCRNXq8V7M/ThTU8r_RJXI/AAAAAAAABAk/kGymbeBa3N0/s1600/Charlotte2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IFCRNXq8V7M/ThTU8r_RJXI/AAAAAAAABAk/kGymbeBa3N0/s400/Charlotte2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355973557921138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Charlotte lines up for her jump&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RcuIiArWv3Y/ThTU3kS9NQI/AAAAAAAABAc/mwjpsEF5HOM/s1600/Charlotte3Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RcuIiArWv3Y/ThTU3kS9NQI/AAAAAAAABAc/mwjpsEF5HOM/s400/Charlotte3Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355885593670914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I didn't ask, but I think it's called the frog jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L8ofqng14Hk/ThTUzewk5hI/AAAAAAAABAU/jbJiAPW7R0Y/s1600/Charlotte4Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L8ofqng14Hk/ThTUzewk5hI/AAAAAAAABAU/jbJiAPW7R0Y/s400/Charlotte4Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355815387817490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ker-plunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a word about my new radio.   I knew we'd be clocking some hours outside in the pool this summer, so when asked what I wanted for my birthday last month, I said "a poolside radio to listen to some tunes while we were in the pool!"  Mike, my carpenter husband, went out and found me the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mother&lt;/span&gt; of all radios.   Here it is, and I gotta say it rocks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9PLf4bYEeMA/ThTUupb-vJI/AAAAAAAABAM/XGMJlGNp8q0/s1600/Radio.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9PLf4bYEeMA/ThTUupb-vJI/AAAAAAAABAM/XGMJlGNp8q0/s400/Radio.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355732354874514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YS89ClfocNw/ThTUq7mkOiI/AAAAAAAABAE/7H-g5rgholk/s1600/Eric1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YS89ClfocNw/ThTUq7mkOiI/AAAAAAAABAE/7H-g5rgholk/s400/Eric1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355668511636002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eric doing his ninja moves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(and though he looks really boney in this photo, we do feed him.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BtZhnYAa2bk/ThTUmKcJCGI/AAAAAAAAA_8/5_a4nE73gG8/s1600/Eric2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BtZhnYAa2bk/ThTUmKcJCGI/AAAAAAAAA_8/5_a4nE73gG8/s400/Eric2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355586595096674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look at all those custom cuts on the wood.  Mike rocked it on the deck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbOg-pEoN7w/ThTUhWj8CEI/AAAAAAAAA_0/7hcJrIZUjfI/s1600/Eric3Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbOg-pEoN7w/ThTUhWj8CEI/AAAAAAAAA_0/7hcJrIZUjfI/s400/Eric3Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626355503949678658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-9068949286703320552?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/9068949286703320552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=9068949286703320552&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9068949286703320552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9068949286703320552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/07/when-you-give-carpenter-new-deck.html' title='When you give a carpenter a new deck....'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-px1K0scrUyE/ThTVFKHM9zI/AAAAAAAABA0/1EaeYWwWuSU/s72-c/KidsWeb.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4562581742111599462</id><published>2011-03-30T10:53:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T11:06:01.171-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><title type='text'>The Backlog - Homeschool March 2010</title><content type='html'>Last year we were using FIAR (Five In A Row) and reading a book called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Katz and Tush&lt;/span&gt;.  It was a wonderful book, though a bit sad, about a woman from Poland and a stray cat she takes in.  This book led us down a few rabbit trails including learning about life in Poland, as well as making homemade bread.   And when making homemade bread, what better time to learn about the science of yeast!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gotta love Eric's cheesy grin while mixing the dry ingredients&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DLDoFpRTc1M/TZNScZTmIYI/AAAAAAAAA_g/dZnDHAqOA4o/s1600/Bread6Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DLDoFpRTc1M/TZNScZTmIYI/AAAAAAAAA_g/dZnDHAqOA4o/s400/Bread6Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589902210279809410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids kneading the dough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q5j3hasFzf0/TZNSiMzZ5BI/AAAAAAAAA_o/f3G2o8nXrNc/s1600/Bread2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q5j3hasFzf0/TZNSiMzZ5BI/AAAAAAAAA_o/f3G2o8nXrNc/s400/Bread2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589902310002779154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I wish it had tasted as good it looked.   It was a bit.....heavy.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hMuRtKpX-38/TZNSQF134PI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/CxQAg3QHsc8/s1600/Bread1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hMuRtKpX-38/TZNSQF134PI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/CxQAg3QHsc8/s400/Bread1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589901998896439538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while all this bread making was going on, we did our experiment of yeast in the bottle (add yeast, a little sugar, warm water, and then top it all off with a balloon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jxMB0Z12BTA/TZNSK6sStoI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/omdTQfGT_Ng/s1600/Bread3Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jxMB0Z12BTA/TZNSK6sStoI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/omdTQfGT_Ng/s400/Bread3Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589901910004119170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids were really impressed!  Gotta love when an experiment goes right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HPBwR4C9oks/TZNSH2tRZGI/AAAAAAAAA_I/Jm2Lhw1lhRw/s1600/Bread4Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HPBwR4C9oks/TZNSH2tRZGI/AAAAAAAAA_I/Jm2Lhw1lhRw/s400/Bread4Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589901857394877538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4562581742111599462?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4562581742111599462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4562581742111599462&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4562581742111599462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4562581742111599462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/03/backlog-homeschool-march-2010.html' title='The Backlog - Homeschool March 2010'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DLDoFpRTc1M/TZNScZTmIYI/AAAAAAAAA_g/dZnDHAqOA4o/s72-c/Bread6Web.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6902188065831786163</id><published>2011-03-28T17:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T17:25:14.435-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><title type='text'>There's Been A Mistake</title><content type='html'>The calendar says it's spring, and the crocus in my garden bloomed just days before.   Unfortunately the weather hasn't been informed of the date.  My poor crocus didn't last much longer after I took this photo.  Over half were beaten down by the hail we got one afternoon and the rest were frozen by the snow and 20 degree weather we got after that.   I've got tulips coming up as well; hopefully the weather snaps out of it's winter funk soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99WLeTOUuDA/TZEJ8U8kLzI/AAAAAAAAA_A/fWx5qsuQGsM/s1600/Crocus2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99WLeTOUuDA/TZEJ8U8kLzI/AAAAAAAAA_A/fWx5qsuQGsM/s400/Crocus2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589259544563035954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6902188065831786163?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6902188065831786163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6902188065831786163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6902188065831786163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6902188065831786163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/03/theres-been-mistake.html' title='There&apos;s Been A Mistake'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99WLeTOUuDA/TZEJ8U8kLzI/AAAAAAAAA_A/fWx5qsuQGsM/s72-c/Crocus2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5620603820832276887</id><published>2011-03-22T14:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T14:17:34.912-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Levi Strauss</title><content type='html'>When Levi Strauss invented his denim jeans, they became favorites of the working man.   They were also a popular choice among the 49'ers as they panned for gold.  I'm just curious, though, since these pioneer jeans were subjected to what I consider some grueling labor and abuse, did they end up looking like this after 7 months?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RP4AcfgJQMk/TYjy11q6mlI/AAAAAAAAA-4/FmpKzusloK8/s1600/HoleInKnees.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RP4AcfgJQMk/TYjy11q6mlI/AAAAAAAAA-4/FmpKzusloK8/s400/HoleInKnees.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586982344507169362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is actually a "decent" pair of my son's jeans, as there's still one knee in-tact.  Most of his jeans have both knees blown out, and we're not even all the way through the jean-wearing season yet.   He's just a 10 year old boy.  I know boys can be hard on their clothes, but how much in comparison to someone digging in a mine for gold 12 hours a day, 6-7 days a week?   Did their jeans get all raggedy looking in such a short time?   Is it asking too much for a pair of jeans to make it through one short, 8 month wearing season &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in-tact&lt;/span&gt;??   I think from now on I'm going to start ironing on some patches on the inside of his jeans to see if we can get a little more mileage out of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5620603820832276887?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5620603820832276887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5620603820832276887&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5620603820832276887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5620603820832276887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/03/levi-strauss.html' title='Levi Strauss'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RP4AcfgJQMk/TYjy11q6mlI/AAAAAAAAA-4/FmpKzusloK8/s72-c/HoleInKnees.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3779619516755640104</id><published>2011-02-03T16:13:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T16:39:23.129-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>The Backlog - Milwaukee Zoo 2010</title><content type='html'>I have considerable backlog on my photos....haven't kept up with editing what I've taken.  My blog has taken a backseat for pretty much the entire year of 2010 and since I should be doing a million other things, what better way to spend my time than to edit and post photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's post will be of the Milwaukee Zoo in late September 2010 when we went up for the Down Syndrome Awareness Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsovzBD3sI/AAAAAAAAA-I/Uk801n-58mo/s1600/Bears1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsovzBD3sI/AAAAAAAAA-I/Uk801n-58mo/s400/Bears1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569590165787369154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think we can all relate to this Momma bear.  The kidlets are off somewhere and it's time to take a relaxing bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsq-gb4pnI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/kFe3TGGusNU/s1600/Bears3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsq-gb4pnI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/kFe3TGGusNU/s400/Bears3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569592617520899698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Rut Ro.   The twins have detected that Momma bear is in the jacuzzi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUso5RvKoMI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/5Hs6QRAInIo/s1600/Bears2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUso5RvKoMI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/5Hs6QRAInIo/s400/Bears2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569590328652636354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momma bear trying to ignore twin who is interrupting her.  Can you just hear this baby bear whining to his mom through the imaginary bathroom door?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsrgZ41Z-I/AAAAAAAAA-o/A_dTs-4iwWA/s1600/ReuterFamily2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsrgZ41Z-I/AAAAAAAAA-o/A_dTs-4iwWA/s400/ReuterFamily2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569593199878825954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The reason we were there that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUstPKsRE6I/AAAAAAAAA-w/ZWm9QLrGU_Y/s1600/Char%2526Aar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUstPKsRE6I/AAAAAAAAA-w/ZWm9QLrGU_Y/s400/Char%2526Aar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569595102765061026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Charlotte and her cousin Aaron walking on to the next exhibit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsovzBD3sI/AAAAAAAAA-I/Uk801n-58mo/s1600/Bears1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsrgZ41Z-I/AAAAAAAAA-o/A_dTs-4iwWA/s1600/ReuterFamily2.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3779619516755640104?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3779619516755640104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3779619516755640104&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3779619516755640104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3779619516755640104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2011/02/backlog-milwaukee-zoo-2010.html' title='The Backlog - Milwaukee Zoo 2010'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TUsovzBD3sI/AAAAAAAAA-I/Uk801n-58mo/s72-c/Bears1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8371362525678874759</id><published>2010-12-31T12:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T14:06:17.104-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Another Year Down</title><content type='html'>So I was standing in the shower this morning thinking what a crappy year this has been.   Noone can argue that watching a parent in end-stage cancer isn't a great way to spend the year, but that's pretty much how the year started in January, continuing through to the end in August.   And add on to that the illness, suffering, and subsequent death of a beloved step parent during that exact time.   I could also mention that 2010 found my husband still technically without fulltime employment and all the benefits that go with that.   No one would argue with me that 2010 has been a pretty lousy year all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But about as quickly as my mind went down that road, I was struck by how much there was to be thankful for.  Now I'm not trying to say that I don't have cause to be sad or grieving the deaths of my Mom and Al just because there are things to be thankful about, but that perhaps I shouldn't be so hasty about telling 2010, "Sayonara and don't let the door hit ya in the behind on the way out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year afforded me the opportunity to make several trips to Arkansas to be with my Mom and Al during their last months.  Despite (or perhaps because of) Mike's lack of a regular fulltime job, I was able to spend several weeks visiting and taking care of what needed to be taken care of.   I was able to be with my Mom during her final moments.   Many adults can only wish for the opportunities to serve their parents that I've had this year.   As heartbreaking and stressful as it was, there is good to be found there.  In some families the death of a parent can tear them apart; I'm so glad that wasn't the experience I had with my brother and step-siblings.  If anything, it brought us closer together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite Mike's employment situation, he never lacked for work when it was needed.  Not once.   Mike took all opportunities presented to him and worked hard, but we know that it was God who brought the work Mike's way.  His timing was always perfect.  And so to God goes the glory and the thankfulness for taking care of this little family and their needs (and lots of wants as well!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful for the vacation we had in Puerto Vallarta with my Dad and Candace.   We enjoyed the family time spent in such a superb location, and I dream of being able to go back again!   It was a very relaxing time without the need for running around here and there to do this and that.  Simply time spent resting, eating, swimming, and strolling with family.  Doesn't get much better than that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With everything going on this year, I was still able to continue homeschooling the kids.  I'm thankful for being able to do so and don't take this right for granted.  Our family was also able to participate in a co-op to enrich our homeschooling lives, and the friends I and my children made there are ones we cherish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True, 2010 will go down as one of the saddest and most difficult years of my life.  There are images in my memory banks that I wish weren't there and emotions that are still quite raw.  But if I'm honest with myself, there was more to this year than grief.  We had good health, we enjoyed growing friendships, renewing relationships with family and old friends, a God who never once left our sides, and above all else, hope.   Hope for our present, and hope for our future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Happy New Year To Us All&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8371362525678874759?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8371362525678874759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8371362525678874759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8371362525678874759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8371362525678874759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/12/another-year-down.html' title='Another Year Down'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4226011363536198004</id><published>2010-11-29T13:12:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T13:32:15.667-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Crystal Ball</title><content type='html'>When I was at my Mom and Step Dad's house in September going through their things, I saw a picture on the wall of my Mom, me and the kids.  I decided to tuck it into my suitcase and bring it home with me.    I have it sitting on an end table next to the chair I usually sit in while in the living room.   It was taken on Thanksgiving Day 2003, just 5 weeks after Charlotte was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at this picture and wonder what I would've thought if someone had told me in just 3 short years Mom would be diagnosed with ovarian cancer and begin a battle that would last for nearly 4 years......and that she (and my step dad) wouldn't be around for Thanksgiving 2010.   I'm so thankful we were able to spend Thanksgiving 2009, their last, with them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days are difficult.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about Mom and Al.   Some days I laugh over how silly Al was when he was in Grandpa mode, how he got Eric and Charlotte giggling.  I miss his jokes, and I miss how he always took care of my mom.   Other days I cringe when I think of all the missed opportunities I had for talking with my Mom but didn't.   I miss my Mom's cooking, I miss hugging her, and I definitely miss spending time talking with her, just the two of us.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we often wonder what we would do differently if "only we had known", I think it's probably a good thing that we don't know the future and what it holds.   Life plays out as it should, complete with all it's joy, pain, regrets, and authenticity.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TPP7Kos14MI/AAAAAAAAA94/FK-vw9CzwKw/s1600/Thanksgiving2003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TPP7Kos14MI/AAAAAAAAA94/FK-vw9CzwKw/s400/Thanksgiving2003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545051726365974722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4226011363536198004?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4226011363536198004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4226011363536198004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4226011363536198004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4226011363536198004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/11/crystal-ball.html' title='Crystal Ball'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TPP7Kos14MI/AAAAAAAAA94/FK-vw9CzwKw/s72-c/Thanksgiving2003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4858012271946882732</id><published>2010-11-28T19:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T19:37:16.617-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/bionic-battery.html"&gt;It still lives&lt;/a&gt;.    Why don't the batteries in the remote last this long????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4858012271946882732?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4858012271946882732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4858012271946882732&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4858012271946882732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4858012271946882732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/11/fyi.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-157428684357713405</id><published>2010-11-13T17:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T17:58:23.107-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thrifty'/><title type='text'>Gettin' My Thrifty On</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last spring our light fixture in the kitchen blew out  (smoked, popped, and fizzled.....literally.)   We got busy, weren't  particularly interested or motivated to get something new all summer; it was a tad dark in the kitchen but we got used to it.  Finally we went out a couple weeks ago to Menards when they had their  sale on light fixtures.  We found something simple in that  "oil rubbed bronze" that's currently in vogue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new fixture looked  great.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TN8juxWP3SI/AAAAAAAAA9k/pnvHUgEK2tw/s1600/KitchenLight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TN8juxWP3SI/AAAAAAAAA9k/pnvHUgEK2tw/s400/KitchenLight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539185353116605730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;.......until you looked across the room and saw the white  ceiling  fan/light fixture (which went much better with the old white  light  fixture.)    Any new fan fixture that I liked was in the $150  range, and  that seemed like a lot to spend on a new fan when we already  had one  that worked......just didn't like the color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got  THRIFTY....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really  wish I'd taken a before picture, but it was laying in pieces out in  the garage before it occured to me to do so.  Anyway, I thought it  turned out awesome!!   Total cost was 2 cans of Oil Rubbed Bronze Metallic  Paint, 1 can brown paint, and one can of primer.  Savings was about $130.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TN8jkXWoYFI/AAAAAAAAA9c/OTqmTwH2vHM/s1600/KitchenFan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TN8jkXWoYFI/AAAAAAAAA9c/OTqmTwH2vHM/s400/KitchenFan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539185174340198482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now inspired to buy more paint and spray more dated light fixtures around the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-157428684357713405?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/157428684357713405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=157428684357713405&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/157428684357713405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/157428684357713405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/11/gettin-my-thrifty-on.html' title='Gettin&apos; My Thrifty On'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TN8juxWP3SI/AAAAAAAAA9k/pnvHUgEK2tw/s72-c/KitchenLight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2449825070948240873</id><published>2010-11-10T08:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T08:25:44.422-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Team McDonalds</title><content type='html'>A San Francisco Mom is driving down the road at mealtime and thinks to herself, "Oh no.  We're going to pass by a McDonald's.  My kids are going to ask for a Happy Meal so they can get a crappy little plastic toy.  What am I going to do??!"     As if on cue, little voices from the back of the mom-van pipe up in unison, "Mooooom.   We're hungry!!  We want McDonalds!  Get us McDonalds Happy Meals!"    Well, what's a Mom to do?   She has no choice but to swing into the drive through and order up $20 worth of fast food and plastic toys.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that you say?  She has a choice?  Well, she&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; could&lt;/span&gt; say, "No" to her children.   Is there anything else she could do?  She &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could &lt;/span&gt;say nothing and keep driving past the McDonalds.  She could tell her kids to pipe down; they'll get a PBJ when they get home,a nd if they don't stop complaining, they'll get (gasp) nothing at all.   She &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; even take the time to&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; instruct&lt;/span&gt; her children that some food is good for you and some food is bad for you.  McDonalds is in the "bad for you" category, so we don't eat there very often.    "What?" you ask?  Say "NO" to your kids?  Teach them something about making good choices??  What do you think they are- a, a, a parent or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, let's not venture down that path of doing the responsible thing; instead, let's get the government involved!  Yes, they aren't involved in our lives enough, so we need to make sure they outlaw  a restaurant from selling toys with an unhealthy meal.  That would be the best course of action don't you think?  I can't think of anything else that would take care of the childhood obesity problem besides demanding that a restaurant offer my child sliced apples with their greasy cheeseburger and side order of oil-drenched fries.    Don't even think of asking these parents to limit their TV and video game time.  These kids are in school sitting in their seats all day long.  They need some down time in front of the tube instead of running around in the backyard.   And you can't actually expect these parents to cook healthy meals for their families.  They're busy with......whatever is more important than taking care of their families.  Don't you see that the logical thing to do is to get the government involved to do the job that parents are unwilling to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing you know they'll make it a requirement for grocery stores to offer carrot sticks in the check out lines next to the candy and gum.  Wouldn't want a parent to have to stand there and say NO to their child, would we?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, personally, am on Team McDonalds.  I hope they get this ridiculous ban overturned and thrown out on it's ear.    I believe it's time parents stop blaming everyone else for their own failings and own up to the fact that they've only shown up part-time to a full-time career.   Stop blaming McDonalds for your fat kids and start doing what it takes to lead healthier lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~  Proverbs 22:6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2449825070948240873?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2449825070948240873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2449825070948240873&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2449825070948240873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2449825070948240873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/11/team-mcdonalds.html' title='Team McDonalds'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1711918155864179726</id><published>2010-10-21T14:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T14:59:05.438-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats'/><title type='text'>Stray Cat</title><content type='html'>Say, "Hello" to Alex, our stray cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TMCXKFmZUyI/AAAAAAAAA9M/WlHSARb09HU/s1600/Alex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TMCXKFmZUyI/AAAAAAAAA9M/WlHSARb09HU/s200/Alex.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530586541968675618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He showed up in mid-July looking emaciated and scared.  His hunger over-ruled his fear, so he came back to get the food I put out for him.   Within a few days, I'd won his trust, and he let me pet him.   Before long, he was spending his days on our deck and hanging out with us when we were in the yard.  He fattened up on the food we put out for him, while I posted an ad in the Daily Herald and Craigslist for a lost cat, as well as posting signs in the neighborhood, but all callers were looking for other cats, not Alex.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little guy has grown on me, so I decided to check into some low-cost options for getting him immunizations to keep him healthy and neutering him so he's not populating up the neighborhood (I recommend Spay USA or Spay Illinois if you live in the state.)     So Alex's big day was on Tuesday.  I was thinking we'd bring him into the house for a couple days while he recuperated and then he'd be back outside.   Come to find out that a recently neutered tom cat needs 14 days of recuperation - no running or jumping (are they kidding?  Keep a cat from jumping?)      Sigh....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I brought him home and set him up in bathroom/laundry room and hoped for the best.   After the grogginess wore off, Alex Let It Be Known that his preferred lifestyle is as an Outside Cat.   He paced back and forth between the doors, meowing for what seemed like Hours. On. End.   We ignore him, and it's slowly getting better (it's only day 3.)   Today, we introduced our existing house cats to Alex.  Well, they already knew him having seen him on their deck for the past 3 months, but it was a whole different story having him on their turf....inside the house.   A few hisses, one swat, and things are going swell.   Everyone is ignoring everyone else and I think we'll get through this.    HOWEVER, I'm still looking for a good home for him, so if you know anyone who loves cats and would like to have this wonderful tiger tabby boy who is kid-friendly, and one cool cat, please let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Alex seems to be adjusting a bit too well, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TMCW9rXPPmI/AAAAAAAAA9E/3kGTI7QnpYw/s1600/Alex1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TMCW9rXPPmI/AAAAAAAAA9E/3kGTI7QnpYw/s400/Alex1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530586328767348322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1711918155864179726?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1711918155864179726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1711918155864179726&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1711918155864179726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1711918155864179726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/10/stray-cat.html' title='Stray Cat'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TMCXKFmZUyI/AAAAAAAAA9M/WlHSARb09HU/s72-c/Alex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-7766481002655893007</id><published>2010-10-03T19:21:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T19:35:24.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>The Last Ones I Promise</title><content type='html'>Just a few more photos from our Puerto Vallarta trip.   This is it.  No more.  I promise.  This post is all about the pirate cruise we took.  The pirate cruise was a show, two meals, and a trip to a protected  island for swimming, kayaking, snorkeling, and banana boat rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's Mike and I on the Pirate Cruise with the kids and the Grandparents.  At first I thought, "Wow, I look like crap!"  But given that it was like 102 deg. out that day with no breeze and insane humidity levels, I think I look well under the conditions.  ;-)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkedr39ocI/AAAAAAAAA88/DtEzrBOjXl4/s1600/Mike%26CherylPirateShipWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkedr39ocI/AAAAAAAAA88/DtEzrBOjXl4/s400/Mike%26CherylPirateShipWeb.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523979913289114050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip, that started from this tropic port...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeY_HkMqI/AAAAAAAAA80/9HRDzjyQF9c/s1600/Island2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeY_HkMqI/AAAAAAAAA80/9HRDzjyQF9c/s400/Island2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523979832555483810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;On the island.  The water was aqua color, clear and warm!  I thoroughly enjoyed swimming there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeVEnWyqI/AAAAAAAAA8s/xdsl_JwL9r0/s1600/Island1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeVEnWyqI/AAAAAAAAA8s/xdsl_JwL9r0/s400/Island1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523979765311523490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at this photo and thought, WHY is this guy video taping us?  I don't know him!   Why does he want footage of some gringos ?  (And no, that wasn't the boat that took us out on our banana boat trip!  That thing looks heavy enough to sink itself.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeOBtNSgI/AAAAAAAAA8k/Y2UPv1K3d0g/s1600/BananaBoat2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeKaaDcUI/AAAAAAAAA8c/JLGMdCDffHw/s1600/BananaBoat1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeKaaDcUI/AAAAAAAAA8c/JLGMdCDffHw/s400/BananaBoat1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523979582182748482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride was fun for all of us, except Charlotte who sat in front.  She said she got all the water sprays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeOBtNSgI/AAAAAAAAA8k/Y2UPv1K3d0g/s1600/BananaBoat2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkeOBtNSgI/AAAAAAAAA8k/Y2UPv1K3d0g/s400/BananaBoat2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523979644271675906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-7766481002655893007?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/7766481002655893007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=7766481002655893007&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7766481002655893007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7766481002655893007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/10/last-ones-i-promise.html' title='The Last Ones I Promise'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKkedr39ocI/AAAAAAAAA88/DtEzrBOjXl4/s72-c/Mike%26CherylPirateShipWeb.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-211691529255696088</id><published>2010-09-27T11:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T12:08:39.313-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Maybe Next Time</title><content type='html'>We were at the Milwaukee Zoo yesterday to support our nephew on his first Down Syndrome Awareness walk.   So we were on the walk portion of our day going by this foresty area that seemed like a great place to take a photo of the kids - you know, maybe for the annual Christmas card or something.   I made the mistake of taking my sunglasses off while shooting the photos so I could see the light better, but duh, didn't put on my regular glasses so I really wasn't sure what I was shooting since it all looked blurry to me.   Then there's Mike, ever the not helpful photographer's assistant, telling the kids to say cheeseburger or pizza or something stupid like that.   All I wanted was a cute photo of the kids.  THIS is what I get instead......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKDOeYl9zEI/AAAAAAAAA8U/CtiMkdY3nno/s1600/E%26CBadWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKDOeYl9zEI/AAAAAAAAA8U/CtiMkdY3nno/s400/E%26CBadWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521640164549315650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-211691529255696088?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/211691529255696088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=211691529255696088&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/211691529255696088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/211691529255696088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/09/maybe-next-time.html' title='Maybe Next Time'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TKDOeYl9zEI/AAAAAAAAA8U/CtiMkdY3nno/s72-c/E%26CBadWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6826140121254273520</id><published>2010-09-07T19:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T19:23:47.504-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Family Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFPF2ETLgI/AAAAAAAAA8M/q46z-d3mTLM/s1600/FamilyonBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few more photos from our trip to Puerto Vallarta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNqisVCRI/AAAAAAAAA8E/oAh0kG747Kw/s1600/Dad%26Candace1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512772812140775698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNqisVCRI/AAAAAAAAA8E/oAh0kG747Kw/s400/Dad%26Candace1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dad and Candace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFPF2ETLgI/AAAAAAAAA8M/q46z-d3mTLM/s1600/FamilyonBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512774380709686786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFPF2ETLgI/AAAAAAAAA8M/q46z-d3mTLM/s400/FamilyonBeach.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The family - what is up with my kids?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;I think this is only photo of me except one Mike took looking down my shirt at the Phoenix Airport.  Not sharing that one of course.  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNaykbNCI/AAAAAAAAA78/jToI-O8Pmj0/s1600/MikeWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512772541524685858" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNaykbNCI/AAAAAAAAA78/jToI-O8Pmj0/s400/MikeWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mike in the roof-top pool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNW4lns5I/AAAAAAAAA70/RvFwMbNY58Q/s1600/MikeOceanWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512772474420835218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNW4lns5I/AAAAAAAAA70/RvFwMbNY58Q/s400/MikeOceanWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mike tries the waves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMcGzJ8ZI/AAAAAAAAA7s/elKBNrOvoT4/s1600/Mike%26KidsWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512771464623419794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMcGzJ8ZI/AAAAAAAAA7s/elKBNrOvoT4/s400/Mike%26KidsWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our second favorite past-time while on the beach - dodge the waves &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;(First favorite past-time was sipping Coronas!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMUOIeicI/AAAAAAAAA7k/D3CzDAldmXA/s1600/EricBoardWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512771329152944578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMUOIeicI/AAAAAAAAA7k/D3CzDAldmXA/s400/EricBoardWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mr. Safety surfs safely &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMPc_KxcI/AAAAAAAAA7c/4NRVyTat6RQ/s1600/Eric2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512771247241086402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMPc_KxcI/AAAAAAAAA7c/4NRVyTat6RQ/s400/Eric2Web.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Still has the most awesome eyes ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMIu67AnI/AAAAAAAAA7U/ixhTXd5aqt4/s1600/KidsBeachWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512771131796030066" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMIu67AnI/AAAAAAAAA7U/ixhTXd5aqt4/s400/KidsBeachWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMAM4ZdtI/AAAAAAAAA7M/TQFsCPVZF-U/s1600/Charlotte%26FriendWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512770985219684050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFMAM4ZdtI/AAAAAAAAA7M/TQFsCPVZF-U/s400/Charlotte%26FriendWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Charlotte with her new friend from Montreal. The fact that neither could speak the other's language didn't deter these two from having a fabulous time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFL7eSEc6I/AAAAAAAAA7E/qO1RYpjBosA/s1600/Charlotte%26Dancers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512770903991415714" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFL7eSEc6I/AAAAAAAAA7E/qO1RYpjBosA/s400/Charlotte%26Dancers.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Posing after lunch with the Mexican Dancers sculpture on the Malecon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFLq8ms0xI/AAAAAAAAA68/c2A5rBADcRU/s1600/CharlotteHat1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFLf0hiE3I/AAAAAAAAA60/9j0PnRZNU2Y/s1600/CharlotteOceanWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512770428925514610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFLf0hiE3I/AAAAAAAAA60/9j0PnRZNU2Y/s400/CharlotteOceanWeb.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dodging the waves &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6826140121254273520?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6826140121254273520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6826140121254273520&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6826140121254273520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6826140121254273520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/09/family-vacation.html' title='Family Vacation'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIFNqisVCRI/AAAAAAAAA8E/oAh0kG747Kw/s72-c/Dad%26Candace1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8564859205424080128</id><published>2010-09-03T13:09:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T14:22:01.344-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Scenic Puerto Vallarta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE_FGsBcII/AAAAAAAAA6s/tKynsHfXbNo/s1600/Beach2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the end of July we left for a week-long trip in Puerto Vallarta.  We joined my Dad and Candace who were already there at the condo-on-the-beach.    Here are a few excerpts from the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A famous church that I never got around to going inside to see.  It's supposed to be really  beautiful, but I gotta admit by the time we made it down there on foot we were dying from the heat and humidity, so a passing photo of the steeple as we headed back to the pool was about all I was able to manage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE6UF_zCcI/AAAAAAAAA6c/DK9GGtTQ9mw/s1600/ChurchWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE6UF_zCcI/AAAAAAAAA6c/DK9GGtTQ9mw/s400/ChurchWeb.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512751535759755714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning the 'Muffin Man' came by with his tray of fresh-out-of-the-oven muffins and pastries.   He knew where to find us on our 4th floor balcony.     Here's Dad, Mike, and the kids making their choices.   I'm dreaming of an apple custard pastry right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE8ALjxfKI/AAAAAAAAA6k/skuZ_4EreiU/s1600/MuffinMan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE8ALjxfKI/AAAAAAAAA6k/skuZ_4EreiU/s400/MuffinMan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512753392678698146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from the roof (pool deck) staring south down the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE_FGsBcII/AAAAAAAAA6s/tKynsHfXbNo/s1600/Beach2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE_FGsBcII/AAAAAAAAA6s/tKynsHfXbNo/s400/Beach2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512756775805350018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from the back of the condo where we were staying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE5_SYhcII/AAAAAAAAA6E/W_RuUcpxyUs/s1600/PVHills2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE5_SYhcII/AAAAAAAAA6E/W_RuUcpxyUs/s400/PVHills2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512751178307432578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from the front of the condo where we were staying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE6EV8wWMI/AAAAAAAAA6M/HjFoLadbx8M/s1600/Sunset1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE6EV8wWMI/AAAAAAAAA6M/HjFoLadbx8M/s400/Sunset1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512751265164056770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE5_SYhcII/AAAAAAAAA6E/W_RuUcpxyUs/s1600/PVHills2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8564859205424080128?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8564859205424080128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8564859205424080128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8564859205424080128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8564859205424080128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/09/scenic-puerto-vallarta.html' title='Scenic Puerto Vallarta'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TIE6UF_zCcI/AAAAAAAAA6c/DK9GGtTQ9mw/s72-c/ChurchWeb.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5477148177840089139</id><published>2010-07-29T17:36:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T17:47:48.824-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>T-Ball Round Two</title><content type='html'>Just 4 short years ago we were on these very fields for T-Ball when Eric was in the league.  This year Charlotte chose to take a break from gymnastics and try out T-Ball.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Warm-up before the game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICuu_AjUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/j66SK7yDu3A/s1600/TBall3Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICuu_AjUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/j66SK7yDu3A/s400/TBall3Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461096882343234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIC-6dFKwI/AAAAAAAAA5k/FtJvI8wyou4/s1600/TBall6Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIC-6dFKwI/AAAAAAAAA5k/FtJvI8wyou4/s400/TBall6Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461374839171842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In the dugout looking a little warm (it was 90 deg or something the day I took these.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIDHG-DCxI/AAAAAAAAA50/cODb5pZUR80/s1600/TBall8Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIDHG-DCxI/AAAAAAAAA50/cODb5pZUR80/s400/TBall8Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461515637623570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is being "baseball ready" (aka pay attention so you don't get bopped on the head with a ball)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIDC-RpAvI/AAAAAAAAA5s/uClRzLJxOcw/s1600/TBall7Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIDC-RpAvI/AAAAAAAAA5s/uClRzLJxOcw/s400/TBall7Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461444584407794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIC-6dFKwI/AAAAAAAAA5k/FtJvI8wyou4/s1600/TBall6Web.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIC3pCsuyI/AAAAAAAAA5c/Mjze5YDozpo/s1600/TBall5Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFIC3pCsuyI/AAAAAAAAA5c/Mjze5YDozpo/s400/TBall5Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461249906031394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If this isn't a "girl throw", I don't know what is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICy-MeJzI/AAAAAAAAA5U/iD01pUwWJEY/s1600/TBall4Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICy-MeJzI/AAAAAAAAA5U/iD01pUwWJEY/s400/TBall4Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461169684817714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Can you tell this child was loving having the camera on her all during the game?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICpw3PgbI/AAAAAAAAA5E/eutcDK_kTec/s1600/TBall1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICpw3PgbI/AAAAAAAAA5E/eutcDK_kTec/s400/TBall1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499461011487293874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5477148177840089139?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5477148177840089139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5477148177840089139&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5477148177840089139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5477148177840089139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/07/t-ball-round-two.html' title='T-Ball Round Two'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TFICuu_AjUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/j66SK7yDu3A/s72-c/TBall3Web.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-124206910535659010</id><published>2010-07-25T18:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T18:24:02.794-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Yes, You're At The Right Place</title><content type='html'>I just made some changes to my blog look.  I wasn't planning on it since I hardly have time, but what I was using (from some free site) has apparently been deleted and is no longer available, so rather than have readers looking at a white background with "this image is no longer available" plastered all over the page, I chose to spend some time today to find another look.   Blogger has come a long way in their offerings since I first started  blogging, but so many of the backgrounds are nice to look at but make it difficult to read text.   I think this one may border close to the edge of "not quite readable".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-124206910535659010?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/124206910535659010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=124206910535659010&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/124206910535659010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/124206910535659010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/07/yes-youre-at-right-place.html' title='Yes, You&apos;re At The Right Place'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3125608952179656446</id><published>2010-07-22T11:50:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T12:21:48.637-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>The Big Reveal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SLAtPzW7ZEI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/HuFJzoGzwm0/s1600/Tree1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Three summers ago Mike and I whacked down all our bushes out front.  The yucky evergreen type trees had met a similar fate in a previous year.   We made some major changes out there and this summer it all finally came together.  Now it's a matter of waiting for everything to mature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To read the initial post I made about this journey, you can read that &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/08/al-gore-would-be-disappointed.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.   If you don't really care and just want to cut to the chase and see the photos of before and after, keep scrolling down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BEFORE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SKX3DA5K_fI/AAAAAAAAAJY/wPzO10RWDWw/s1600/House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 407px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SKX3DA5K_fI/AAAAAAAAAJY/wPzO10RWDWw/s1600/House.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SKTszwCHRDI/AAAAAAAAAJI/FneVB1KiFHQ/s1600/DSC_8950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 426px; height: 281px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SKTszwCHRDI/AAAAAAAAAJI/FneVB1KiFHQ/s1600/DSC_8950.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We planted a &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/08/best-time-to-plant-tree-was-20-years.html"&gt;new tree&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SLAtPzW7ZEI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/HuFJzoGzwm0/s1600/Tree1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 440px; height: 290px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SLAtPzW7ZEI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/HuFJzoGzwm0/s1600/Tree1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look in the above photo you can see my white spray painted line of what my plans were.  Lets see how I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ta Daaaah.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TEh5Isqz66I/AAAAAAAAA4s/T-fnKDbV-jQ/s1600/House3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TEh5Isqz66I/AAAAAAAAA4s/T-fnKDbV-jQ/s400/House3.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496776535542328226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice the fence is gone, the whole garden area is outlined with interlocking brick (the kind that are buy two at .89 and get one free kind), and there's always something blooming.  Right now it's daylilies, hydrangea, and asiatic lilies.  If you click on the photo to enlarge, you'll also see that I relocated the bird bath.  Now the birds can splash around right in front of the window and torture our cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's an assortment of stuff in there - balloon flowers, lupine, iris, hosta, couple different kinds of daylilies, two bushes, cone flowers, poppies, bleeding hearts, spider wort, and some other stuff I don't even remember what it's called.  It's taken 3 summers to put it all together - some came from friends' gardens, some were rescued off the October clearance rack, and other stuff came from honest to goodness nurseries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TEh5N0HnqSI/AAAAAAAAA40/cn8aM4Pfui8/s1600/House2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TEh5N0HnqSI/AAAAAAAAA40/cn8aM4Pfui8/s400/House2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496776623441553698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Much improved, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TEh5RhZvR_I/AAAAAAAAA48/Ljw7ls9g3f0/s1600/House1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TEh5RhZvR_I/AAAAAAAAA48/Ljw7ls9g3f0/s400/House1.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496776687136753650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3125608952179656446?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3125608952179656446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3125608952179656446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3125608952179656446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3125608952179656446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/07/big-reveal.html' title='The Big Reveal'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SKX3DA5K_fI/AAAAAAAAAJY/wPzO10RWDWw/s72-c/House.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8924546682601816050</id><published>2010-06-02T17:17:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T13:14:24.715-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><title type='text'>La Mariposa</title><content type='html'>We spent 2 weeks on a butterfly unit last month and part of that unit was raising our own from caterpillars.  Memorial Day weekend 4 of the 5 chrysalis  hatched into beautiful Painted Lady butterflies. The 5th chrysalis didn't make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed them inside for a couple days, but once the cats figured out what was fluttering around inside the habitat, they started a stake-out to see if they could catch one.  So on our 2nd to last day of school we started the day by going outside to release our little butterflies.  One flew off so fast I don't even know where s/he went to.  The other wasn't too far behind, and the 3rd seemed to be telling us "I got snacks; not going anywhere right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbY7GBw3vI/AAAAAAAAA3k/NAxm2mA2Vek/s1600/Butterfly1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbY7GBw3vI/AAAAAAAAA3k/NAxm2mA2Vek/s400/Butterfly1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478304506484678386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 4th, and final, butterfly is "flight impaired".  Instead of  symmetrical wings, the right side is a bit....off and not well-formed.  Oh, he tried to fly away, but just fluttered to the ground.  We rescued him and brought him back inside to live out his life.  I couldn't stand the thought of him becoming a part of the food chain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Butterfly #4 resting on Charlotte's hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbZMz3G8yI/AAAAAAAAA3s/KiVjnbZ3VFk/s1600/ButterflyinHandWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbZMz3G8yI/AAAAAAAAA3s/KiVjnbZ3VFk/s400/ButterflyinHandWeb.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478304810845795106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You can see his asymmetrical wings here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbZRWnTc2I/AAAAAAAAA30/p0rouVKM2e0/s1600/AsymBFWeb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbZRWnTc2I/AAAAAAAAA30/p0rouVKM2e0/s400/AsymBFWeb.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478304888894223202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;About a week later we went on a family bike ride and were down by the river.  We stopped for a moment and there was a painted lady butterfly.  We watched it a while, and it briefly came to rest on my hand.  I think it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; butterfly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8924546682601816050?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8924546682601816050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8924546682601816050&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8924546682601816050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8924546682601816050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/06/la-mariposa.html' title='La Mariposa'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbY7GBw3vI/AAAAAAAAA3k/NAxm2mA2Vek/s72-c/Butterfly1Web.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5979555262283924732</id><published>2010-06-02T17:04:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T17:44:18.721-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Daddy's Princess</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWoGgU7QI/AAAAAAAAA3c/68g8viBDgNA/s1600/Dance3Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWoGgU7QI/AAAAAAAAA3c/68g8viBDgNA/s400/Dance3Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478301981172100354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In April, Mike took Charlotte to a daddy/daughter dance hosted by our church. Charlotte talked of nothing else all week long and was beyond excited once the day arrived. She chose to wear her red velvet Christmas dress, and I put her hair up in a bun in the back. She was thrilled to have her hair done fancy, but totally blown away when I lent her one of my necklaces to wear with her dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the dance they had their picture taken by the photographer, and all the daughters received a necklace and a carnation. Lots of punch, desserts and dancing followed! She had the time of her life!!!  Since I can't decide which one I like best, I posted all three of the ones I thought turned out good.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWZKLIv4I/AAAAAAAAA3M/2vMZ9_FXQQE/s1600/Dance2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWZKLIv4I/AAAAAAAAA3M/2vMZ9_FXQQE/s400/Dance2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478301724458925954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWU9zYbNI/AAAAAAAAA3E/b4qLb5G9blM/s1600/Dance1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWU9zYbNI/AAAAAAAAA3E/b4qLb5G9blM/s400/Dance1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478301652418587858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers..."  (Malachi 4:6a)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5979555262283924732?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5979555262283924732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5979555262283924732&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5979555262283924732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5979555262283924732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/06/daddys-princess.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Princess'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/TAbWoGgU7QI/AAAAAAAAA3c/68g8viBDgNA/s72-c/Dance3Web.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5633502156610834878</id><published>2010-04-17T12:01:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T12:13:53.972-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Prairie Girl</title><content type='html'>.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S8nqWwWQzKI/AAAAAAAAA20/DA6qYDNcJW8/s1600/SchoolHouse2Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S8nqWwWQzKI/AAAAAAAAA20/DA6qYDNcJW8/s400/SchoolHouse2Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461153699819736226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the kids on a field trip to a one-room school house about 40 minutes from home.  We've been studying pioneer life, and I thought this might be a cool thing for them to see first hand.  When we got there, we had the place to ourselves, along with the two volunteers.  They were happy to share their information with folks who were interested.  The kids got to sit at the old-time desks and were each given a slate and slate pencil to practice on, as well as a grade-appropriate McGuffy Reader!  Charlotte was thrilled to try on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;each&lt;/span&gt; of the dresses!  For this reason alone she wishes she had lived during this period in history.    As we were getting ready to leave, each of the kids got to ring the bell in the belfry.  It was definitely a successful field trip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S8nqc6_5bgI/AAAAAAAAA28/MDfxrepu1KE/s1600/SchoolHouse1Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S8nqc6_5bgI/AAAAAAAAA28/MDfxrepu1KE/s400/SchoolHouse1Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461153805757935106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5633502156610834878?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5633502156610834878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5633502156610834878&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5633502156610834878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5633502156610834878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/04/prairie-girl.html' title='Prairie Girl'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S8nqWwWQzKI/AAAAAAAAA20/DA6qYDNcJW8/s72-c/SchoolHouse2Web.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2188236919957398727</id><published>2010-03-10T15:57:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T16:05:28.736-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><title type='text'>It's Just Around The Corner</title><content type='html'>Today the weather warmed up into the mid-50's and now that it's late afternoon, the rainclouds have lifted and the sun is poking out.  I decided to inspect my garden and spray a little "liquid fence" to deter the deer and resident rabbit from eating up everything as it comes out of the ground (the stuff really works!)    I had noticed the other day that my crocus were poking up out of the ground, but today they were fully up and looking beautiful.  I couldn't resist taking a photo of one of them!  What a treat - it's not even officially spring yet!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S5gXkzDuETI/AAAAAAAAA2s/FFTE3xNHFEc/s1600-h/Crocus-March-2010Web.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S5gXkzDuETI/AAAAAAAAA2s/FFTE3xNHFEc/s400/Crocus-March-2010Web.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447129670253154610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S5gV4LoaaZI/AAAAAAAAA2k/fGad627bopU/s1600-h/Crocus-March-2010Web.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2188236919957398727?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2188236919957398727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2188236919957398727&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2188236919957398727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2188236919957398727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-just-around-corner.html' title='It&apos;s Just Around The Corner'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S5gXkzDuETI/AAAAAAAAA2s/FFTE3xNHFEc/s72-c/Crocus-March-2010Web.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5760759031259361000</id><published>2010-02-02T13:07:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T13:56:34.349-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Planes, Trains, and Automobiles</title><content type='html'>Las Friday my brother and I met up at O'Hare to fly south to visit our Mom and Al.  As it turned out, the weather in other parts of the country, including where we were headed, were getting hit with snow and ice.  But all seemed to be going well for us.  We managed to find each other easily enough, no troubles at security, found our gate at the furthest end of the corridor and sat down to rest.  Our flight was scheduled to leave at 8:20 p.m., but about 7:15 for some reason I decided to check the departure screens and noticed that our gate had changed from what it was on the departure screen when we got through security 45 minutes prior.  So we walked down the corridor to get in line for the shuttle, since we had to go to an entirely different area of the airport.  When the shuttle arrived, we went down the stairs, outside and onto the shuttle bus, which then took us over to "F12A".  We disembarked from the bus, got outside, back up the stairs, and down the corridor to sit at our gate and wait.  As it turned out, our plane was announced 25 minutes late.  No biggee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 9:00, an announcement was made that the plane had arrived but boarding would be delayed further since the plane was experiencing some technical difficulties.  Hey, take yer time I say.    About 15 minutes later they came on the intercom and said there was good news and bad news.  The bad news was that our plane was out of commission; the good news was that another plane was available to take us instead.  It was back over in the other part of the airport where we'd just come from.  I literally LOL.  So we went back down the corridor, got in line for the shuttle, went down the stairs and outside.  By this time the wind was blowing, the snow was flurrying, but we got on the bus which took us back over to terminal C.  Got out of the bus,  back outside, up the stairs, and back down the corridor to our gate.  Did I mention that I had a carryon bag packed?  Yes, it had wheels, but that didn't do me any good going up or down the stairs or getting on or off the shuttle bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we arrived at our new gate (which was directly across from the first gate), we were met with........no one.  No plane, no crew, no check-in person.  Thankfully, someone from United came by but since there was no crew and no plane, well, check in couldn't really begin.  Tom and I sat down.  He said he wanted to file a complaint with his travel agent (me).  At least we were keeping our sense of humor, as others were not.  Finally plane and crew arrived, and we boarded the plan around 10:00 p.m.  With a sigh of relief, we found our seats, and sat down.  Since the plane was too small for carry on, I had to check my bag at the gate.  No problem though since once we arrived, they'd put all the "at the gate" bags at the arrival gate so we wouldn't have to wait in the baggage claim area. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot came on around 10:15 to state that there were further delays because they really needed to de-ice the plane.  So we waited further for the de-icing crew to come and de-ice the plane.  At 10:30 we finally thought we were going to be under way but the pilot just got on to say that the de-icing crew missed a few spots, so we had to wait for them to come back and do it again.  Are you freakin' kidding me?  I was losing my sense of humor by this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At long last we lifted off at 10:45 p.m. and arrived in Springfield, MO about 12:15 a.m......about 2 hours late.  This wasn't a big airport and we were absolutely the only passengers in the place.  So it was truly a wonder to me why we had to pull into the furthest gate in the terminal.  Was there something wrong with the vacant gate 1??  I was fully anticipating to receive my luggage at the gate, but they decided to bring all the luggage to the claim area, so I basically lugged that thing all around the airport for no reason at all now that I had to wait in baggage claim like everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the baggage claim/rental car area, I went over to the Enterprise window to get our car.  Unfortunately they closed 15 minutes before we landed.  So I went over to the open window of Alamo and got a little crappy car for highway robbery.  Had my brain been engaged, it would've been cheaper to call a cab.   For a one day rental at Alamo, it cost as much as a three day rental at Enterprise.  But Enterprise was closed, so their fabulous prices were doing me no good at that moment.  We waited for our luggage and then shlepped out to the car rental lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that Springfield was getting hit with a snow storm?  Southern states just aren't prepared to deal with 8"+ of snow.  They aren't.....no salt, no plows......but lotsa snow.  There was no way we were going to be able to manage the hills of this area to drive 80 miles south to where our Mom and Al lived, so we opted to find a hotel (being the prepared person that I am, I did anticipate this need and found a hotel online that was 5 miles from the airport.  Even got directions off their website to the hotel.)  So anyway, we go out to the rental car parking lot to row 9 and space 216.  It was about 15 degrees out (without the windchill), and loads of swirling snow hitting us in our faces.  There were 10 rows in the rental car lot, we trudged out to row 9.  Did I mention that the rental car lot wasn't plowed.....at all??  And to think I left my snow boots at home. So in my Borns and Tom in his sneakers, we went to......the absolute last parking space of row 9, me carrying my, by now very heavy, rolling suitcase.  I do have to agree with my brother when he said, "For $60, they should've $@&amp;amp;*!* heated the car up and brought it around for us."  So true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's dark, windy, snowy, and unplowed where we're at in our little Nissan box on wheels with a brake that thumped or sounded like it was dragging on the road whenever I used it.  We had a bit of trouble finding the exit to the airport, but managed to get out onto the main road.  The directions said to go to the roundabout and take XYZ road.  Except there was no XYZ road.  We gave it our best shot to find this place.....in the dark, on unplowed roads.  And I do mean unplowed highway roads in a place that had received 8"+ of snow.  By 1:45 we couldn't find this hotel, and gave up.  We had seen a little place back up the road and stopped off there.  We asked if they had a room, which he said he did (through a sliding window while we stood outside at 2 a.m. in the morning in the 15 degree weather with snow swirling around us.)  Unfortunately he didn't have a room with two beds but did have a room with a king size bed.  At this point, we really didn't care, so we took it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to our room and it didn't have any heat turned on and was about as cold inside as it was outside.  Tom got the heat cranking while I laid down on the bed still in my coat.  Abougt 10 minutes later it started to crank out some heat.  Fully clothed, we crawled under the covers to try and get some rest.  Tom woke me up at 8 a.m. because he needed coffee; besides we need to try and get to Arkansas.  One look in the bathroom told us we weren't showering here, so after brushing my teeth we split and headed back to the airport to turn in this lousy car (they wanted $130 for the whole weekend.  Gimmee a break!)  We turned in the car, then went down to the Enterprise counter, which was open.  Yay.  I explained what had happened last night and the woman upgraded us for free AND went out to the rental car lot to get the car for us, brush it off and warm it up.  Sweet.  I think it was a  Pontiac G4 (?).  Much nicer ride anyway, and off we went.  Truly amazing though that the roads leading into the airport still hadn't been plowed by 8:30 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit the highway and arrived at Mom and Al's about 11 a.m.  The MO highways were reasonably plowed, but when we saw the "Welcome to Arkansas" sign, the roads instantaneously became awful and our travel was slowed to about 30 mph.  I found myself behind one plow and really it seemed like he was just making the road worse, so I passed him.  Sure enough, once I got in front of the plow the road was considerably smoother traveling.  Back at Mom's they were snowed in; neither could drive, and both were sick and couldn't have shoveled the drive to get out of the garage, so Tom and I shoveled so I could take Mom to Walmart for some items Al needed, including a new prescription.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I booked the flight about a week before we left, I really sensed God wanting us to go that weekend.  While we were at the airport and dealing with the delays, snow, and lousy hotel, I found myself questioning the whole thing - Did I misunderstand?  And if I didn't, why all these hassles to arrive at our destination?   I didn't have my answer immediately, but after our short weekend there, I'm certain that I understood correctly; we were meant to be on that flight and to travel that weekend.  They needed us there that weekend, especially on early Monday morning when Mom woke us up to take Al to the emergency room.  After several hours at the ER and many tests later, they determined that he had a puliminary embulism (sp?).  Forutnately he was admitted to the hospital and will be treated for what he's been suffering from for the past week.   My step brother is flying in today to take our place, so we felt OK leaving on our scheduled flight.  The trip back up to the airport was uneventful and all 7 of us got on the plane with no problems.  As a matter of fact, we left 10 minutes early.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5760759031259361000?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5760759031259361000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5760759031259361000&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5760759031259361000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5760759031259361000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/02/planes-trains-and-automobiles.html' title='Planes, Trains, and Automobiles'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-343376516466627814</id><published>2010-01-15T18:04:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T18:18:01.241-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><title type='text'>When They Do Art</title><content type='html'>Occasionally I throw in some art into our homeschooling curriculum.  Sometimes it's to teach a specific skill and sometimes it's just something for fun.   This project fell into the "for fun" category, while at the same time tying into Charlotte's study of the seasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the idea out of the Mailbox Craft book here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDSpIShHI/AAAAAAAAA2M/kLZU4wijs5A/s1600-h/DSC_4055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDSpIShHI/AAAAAAAAA2M/kLZU4wijs5A/s320/DSC_4055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427122644771308658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chose to have Charlotte do the winter one since, well, it's winter.  Eric tagged along on this project.  It was basically a simple project.  I cut small strips of masking tape which the kids taped onto white watercolor paper into the shape of the tree of their choice.  Afterwards, they used "cool" water colors for a wintery feel.  When the paint is dry, remove the masking tape, and you have left a white tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the kids liked it.  Here's Charlotte's tree.  She used several shades of blue and even a bit of grey and purple in there.  Not bad for a 6 year old:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDfR6RcbI/AAAAAAAAA2U/wawINbfDT5g/s1600-h/DSC_4053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDfR6RcbI/AAAAAAAAA2U/wawINbfDT5g/s320/DSC_4053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427122861876801970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's Eric's tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDpRvos_I/AAAAAAAAA2c/txgv_duB9DQ/s1600-h/DSC_4050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDpRvos_I/AAAAAAAAA2c/txgv_duB9DQ/s320/DSC_4050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427123033630880754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know art is supposed to be about the process, not the end product, but it's moments like this that have me wondering what words Picasso's Mother had for him in his early years.    Do I have a surrealist artist on my hands?  Ya never know.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-343376516466627814?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/343376516466627814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=343376516466627814&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/343376516466627814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/343376516466627814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-they-do-art.html' title='When They Do Art'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/S1EDSpIShHI/AAAAAAAAA2M/kLZU4wijs5A/s72-c/DSC_4055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3174514971760310040</id><published>2009-12-05T12:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T12:16:00.487-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>It Lives</title><content type='html'>As we pulled out the boxes of Christmas ornaments, Charlotte's eye fell on one in particular.  She pulled it from it's box and sure enough, it still lives.  Un-Be-Leivable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to know what I'm talking about, you'll have to &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/bionic-battery.html"&gt;bone up on your reading&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3174514971760310040?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3174514971760310040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3174514971760310040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3174514971760310040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3174514971760310040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-lives.html' title='It Lives'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5813061112997734834</id><published>2009-12-01T18:12:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T18:30:56.419-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Where's The Tree?</title><content type='html'>Last year we had some Christmas tree woes.  You can read about that &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-i-torture-my-kids-part-i.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/woeful-tale-of-slow-death.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of last year, Mike snipped off all the prelit lights and we threw them in the trash figuring we could salvage the tree and throw on some new lights.  We happened to score 5 strands of those large ceramic bulb lights for $1.74 a box, and I figured we could use those. I think they look pretty cool, and since I was getting outvoted on the white lights, I could deal with those ceramic lights in color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to this year.  I'm a few minutes into stringing those ceramic bulbs onto our tree and I'm beginning to worry about how hot they're getting.  One quick look at the box crushed my plans since these lights can't be used on artificial trees.  Who knew?  OK, guess we'll put them on the tree outside.  So on November 30th we went to the store to find those mini lights in color.  We went to Menards, Walmart, and Target.  None of them had the basic Christmas lights we were looking for.  Seriously?  On November 30th?  We dragged our sad behinds home and then I remembered we had a couple strands of mini color lights that I'd used on the outside tree last year.  So I started stringing those on, figuring we'd eventually find some Christmas lights for the rest of the tree and could finish the job of putting our tree up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SxWzKhg-1II/AAAAAAAAA2E/gKjPHY7ZzbU/s1600/Christmas-Tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SxWzKhg-1II/AAAAAAAAA2E/gKjPHY7ZzbU/s400/Christmas-Tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410427520732288130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5813061112997734834?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5813061112997734834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5813061112997734834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5813061112997734834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5813061112997734834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/12/wheres-tree.html' title='Where&apos;s The Tree?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SxWzKhg-1II/AAAAAAAAA2E/gKjPHY7ZzbU/s72-c/Christmas-Tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6220755090092605103</id><published>2009-11-17T07:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T07:24:00.230-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winter'/><title type='text'>Sometimes I Can't Help Myself</title><content type='html'>Last week I took the kids to the park after lunch.  This is a cool park with a playground, walking paths, a pond and bridges, so we always enjoy going there.  It was a fairly brisk day with the wind, and I was hunkered down on the park bench trying to keep warm while watching the kids play some imaginary game that burned off some energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happened to look up over to my left and saw this magnificent tree without it's leaves.  The sky was a bit overcast, and the sun was trying to shine through.  I tried returning my gaze to the kids having fun, but I had already formed the photo of the tree in my mind, so I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; to pull the camera out of the bag (which was sitting next to me, of course).  Miraculous though it be, I do occasionally take photos of a subject other than my children.  :-).  Not to worry, we went on a little hike after they got tired of playing, so I got photos of them, one of which may become our Christmas card photo. ;-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's shot #1 straight out of the camera.  Not bad, but not spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4HG8aTl0I/AAAAAAAAA18/0SehJ0JEYj0/s1600-h/SummerTreeSOC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4HG8aTl0I/AAAAAAAAA18/0SehJ0JEYj0/s400/SummerTreeSOC.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403764418768246594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the same photo after I enhanced it in Photoshop.  Definitely has that sunset feel to it, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4HDGMDTlI/AAAAAAAAA10/bsxCBX4sYBw/s1600-h/SummerTreeWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4HDGMDTlI/AAAAAAAAA10/bsxCBX4sYBw/s400/SummerTreeWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403764352673336914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never content to leave my camera settings alone, I opted to switch the white balance to fluorescent because I learned a few years ago (from playing around with it) that it cools the colors for a wintery feel.  Here's the photo straight out of the camera.  Again, not bad, but not spectacular:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4G-tb_PtI/AAAAAAAAA1s/VF--2fFhaD4/s1600-h/WinterTreeSOC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4G-tb_PtI/AAAAAAAAA1s/VF--2fFhaD4/s400/WinterTreeSOC.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403764277309816530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the same photo after it encountered Photoshop.  It's gone from a daytime to nighttime photo (I really like this one the best too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4G7F1JWRI/AAAAAAAAA1k/xjfeoNRyxto/s1600-h/WinterTreeWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4G7F1JWRI/AAAAAAAAA1k/xjfeoNRyxto/s400/WinterTreeWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403764215138310418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad that sometimes I can't stop myself from taking photos.  Sometimes it's worth it to drag the camera around with me everywhere we go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6220755090092605103?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6220755090092605103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6220755090092605103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6220755090092605103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6220755090092605103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes-i-cant-help-myself.html' title='Sometimes I Can&apos;t Help Myself'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4HG8aTl0I/AAAAAAAAA18/0SehJ0JEYj0/s72-c/SummerTreeSOC.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2080164508903256223</id><published>2009-11-13T18:56:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T19:01:42.714-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats'/><title type='text'>My Cat On Drugs</title><content type='html'>I don't know what it is about cat nip that drives cats crazy.  My cats are nutso when I rub it on one of their toys.  I couldn't find one the other night, so I just dumped some dried cat nip into a little plastic basket of the kids' and Milo was all over that.   Mike and I were just cracking up as he tried so hard to get every last little crumb.  The container's size would not deter him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4AsU18YSI/AAAAAAAAA1c/_dSN4uGcp0U/s1600-h/Milo1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4AsU18YSI/AAAAAAAAA1c/_dSN4uGcp0U/s400/Milo1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403757364400382242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4AneE-X4I/AAAAAAAAA1U/-jU7HnQ8op4/s1600-h/Milo2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4AneE-X4I/AAAAAAAAA1U/-jU7HnQ8op4/s400/Milo2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403757280980000642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2080164508903256223?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2080164508903256223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2080164508903256223&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2080164508903256223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2080164508903256223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-cat-on-drugs.html' title='My Cat On Drugs'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sv4AsU18YSI/AAAAAAAAA1c/_dSN4uGcp0U/s72-c/Milo1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-7390760927480009836</id><published>2009-11-04T19:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T19:35:48.830-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><title type='text'>A Rare Occasion</title><content type='html'>It's a rare occasion that I catch a genuine smile from Eric when he's in front of the camera.  I had rather hoped his fake-pained smile would pass quickly, but it's been hanging on for a couple years now.   This week we've been getting some really nice autumn weather, the leaves are plentiful, so the kids were outside playing in a huge pile of them.  There's no way I could resist a photo op like that, so I joined the kids to watch them in their fun and capture it for their scrap albums (if I ever get around to printing out photos from the past 18 mos.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried the photo below in color and black and white.  Both look good, but I'm a fan of black and white photos.    For some reason it looks a little darker on my blog than it did while editing it, but that still doesn't hide the fabulous expression I caught on my 'lil man's face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SvIqSPDpMeI/AAAAAAAAA1M/r__BXZ5thJY/s1600-h/Eric1B%26WWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SvIqSPDpMeI/AAAAAAAAA1M/r__BXZ5thJY/s400/Eric1B%26WWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400425395938472418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-7390760927480009836?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/7390760927480009836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=7390760927480009836&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7390760927480009836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7390760927480009836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/11/rare-occasion.html' title='A Rare Occasion'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SvIqSPDpMeI/AAAAAAAAA1M/r__BXZ5thJY/s72-c/Eric1B%26WWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-786398220171095258</id><published>2009-10-30T14:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T15:13:11.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Radio Waves</title><content type='html'>How often have you listened to the radio and the perfect song comes on?  I'm not talking about a song you love just 'cause it's got a good beat and you like to sing along.  I'm thinking about a song that speaks to what you're living at that particular moment, one that gets to the heart of the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today while balancing the checkbook the kids were building forts for shelter animals (aka our poor beleaguered cat, Milo), and the radio is going.   While balancing the checkbook, my mind was a bit troubled over something in my life that's not working, something that I want to change but am really afraid to make the change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then that perfect song came on and spoke to me, as if the words were coming straight from the Throne of Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm finding myself at a loss for words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And the funny thing is it's OK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The last thing I need is to be heard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But to hear what You would say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Word of God speak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Would You pour down like rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Washing my eyes to see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Your majesty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;To be still and know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;That You're in this place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Please let me stay and rest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;In Your holiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Word of God speak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;~  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Word of God Speak&lt;/span&gt; by MercyMe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-786398220171095258?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/786398220171095258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=786398220171095258&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/786398220171095258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/786398220171095258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/10/radio-waves.html' title='Radio Waves'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4970494723810365518</id><published>2009-10-20T08:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T08:45:00.634-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Isn't She Lovely?</title><content type='html'>I took a few photos of Charlotte on her birthday.  They're a little dark and over-processed in Photoshop for my tastes.  However,  I'm a little prejudiced and think  she still looks beautiful, in spite of my bad shooting day.&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Stxwbod-TBI/AAAAAAAAA08/ieThmlzvfXg/s1600-h/CharlotteBday1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Stxwbod-TBI/AAAAAAAAA08/ieThmlzvfXg/s400/CharlotteBday1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394310073704926226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/StxwYIdX9yI/AAAAAAAAA00/0-9mEOyCqq8/s1600-h/CharlotteBday3Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/StxwYIdX9yI/AAAAAAAAA00/0-9mEOyCqq8/s400/CharlotteBday3Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394310013572871970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4970494723810365518?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4970494723810365518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4970494723810365518&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4970494723810365518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4970494723810365518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/10/isnt-she-lovely.html' title='Isn&apos;t She Lovely?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Stxwbod-TBI/AAAAAAAAA08/ieThmlzvfXg/s72-c/CharlotteBday1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2017869479975734017</id><published>2009-10-15T15:45:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T16:42:07.948-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><title type='text'>So what do you DO all day?</title><content type='html'>I tell Eric at least 84 times a day to focus on his work (I've said it so much, that this morning when Charlotte saw Eric not doing his math, she said, "Do your homework, Eric!"  I nearly burst out laughing.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all sorts of subjects we cover each day.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My&lt;/span&gt; favorites would probably be math and social studies.  Math gives me immediate feedback on whether the kids are learning anything, so that's why I like it.  Social studies encompasses so much - history, people, places, etc. that you'd have to be trying really hard to make something like that boring.  But I'd have to say that the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kids'&lt;/span&gt; favorites are the art and science experiments we conduct.  Here are a few we've done over the past month:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We covered a unit on magnetism, and this experiment called for placing a strong magnet under the paper and sprinkling finely cut up steel wool pads on the top.  This allowed the kids to see the magnetic field of the magnet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKUgfxlnI/AAAAAAAAA0s/q_Qk_JTUtLs/s1600-h/FieldWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKUgfxlnI/AAAAAAAAA0s/q_Qk_JTUtLs/s400/FieldWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392931163724682866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also did a unit on Volcanoes, which both kids really enjoyed.  After we completed the unit, they built clay volcanoes around a plastic water bottle.    Eric is painting his with cotton balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKP1nA4LI/AAAAAAAAA0k/DBdzsaevWtc/s1600-h/EricWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKP1nA4LI/AAAAAAAAA0k/DBdzsaevWtc/s400/EricWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392931083492843698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Charlotte painted hers too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKLzb7lSI/AAAAAAAAA0c/p3FTyD177h0/s1600-h/CharlotteWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKLzb7lSI/AAAAAAAAA0c/p3FTyD177h0/s400/CharlotteWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392931014190011682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a little water, dish soap, baking soda and vinegar, we had us a nice lava flow.  If you've got red food coloring, put that in there too!   I wish I had a picture of when we were setting Eric's off the second time.  I have no idea how I did it - must of been the ratio of liquids to baking soda - but once I poured in the vinegar the "lava" shot up about 2 feet into the air and landed on the table with a splat.  Eric and I were stunned for a second, then burst out laughing.  Eric summed it all up by exclaiming, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"  Kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKHxAmF4I/AAAAAAAAA0U/4GH5rrtBRiw/s1600-h/VolcanoWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKHxAmF4I/AAAAAAAAA0U/4GH5rrtBRiw/s400/VolcanoWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392930944819009410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also briefly studied architecture, focusing on cathedrals and why they were built so long ago.  Our art project for this unit was making a stained glass window.  I do have to say they look really pretty up on our slider door where they catch the light!  Just a little glue, tissue paper, waxed paper, and black construction paper and you can have a stained glass window too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKDunZFFI/AAAAAAAAA0M/pjWfxXKFzAA/s1600-h/Stained-Glass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKDunZFFI/AAAAAAAAA0M/pjWfxXKFzAA/s400/Stained-Glass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392930875456951378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2017869479975734017?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2017869479975734017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2017869479975734017&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2017869479975734017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2017869479975734017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-what-do-you-do-all-day.html' title='So what do you DO all day?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SteKUgfxlnI/AAAAAAAAA0s/q_Qk_JTUtLs/s72-c/FieldWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3076690531160918060</id><published>2009-10-11T13:34:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T13:39:40.194-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Look Mom!</title><content type='html'>The kids and I were heading to the outlet mall for new winter shoes for them.  On the way, Charlotte exclaimed, "Look Mom!  It's a cloud maker!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/StIlc_HVTlI/AAAAAAAAA0E/7XrMdoc3dGM/s1600-h/CloudMaker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/StIlc_HVTlI/AAAAAAAAA0E/7XrMdoc3dGM/s400/CloudMaker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391412883824660050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could do was laugh.  The thought of a cloud maker just made me smile!  I didn't have the heart to tell her it was pollution.  So I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.S. - I'm glad I happened to have my camera with in the car!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3076690531160918060?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3076690531160918060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3076690531160918060&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3076690531160918060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3076690531160918060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/10/look-mom.html' title='Look Mom!'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/StIlc_HVTlI/AAAAAAAAA0E/7XrMdoc3dGM/s72-c/CloudMaker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-9071307802117667548</id><published>2009-09-25T08:44:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T08:54:19.659-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>That Freaks Me Out</title><content type='html'>While on our trip up north, Mike had the luxury of spending some one-on-one time with each kid.  He took Eric on a little hike into the woods near Lake Superior.  Both of them loved their little adventure!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte had wanted no part of going out on the boat fishing with the boys, her Daddy and Uncle so she stayed on shore and played Barbies.  However, Mike had promised her he'd take her out on the lake just the two of them.  Finding time &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;alone&lt;/span&gt; with each one of your children is such a challenge, so I'm glad Mike got an opportunity to do that over Labor Day weekend!   Here are a few photos of Charlotte and her Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Charlotte gets into the boat and is looking a little unsure about this whole rowboat QT with Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJg2mT2-I/AAAAAAAAAz8/Hyxbw3ZN-p0/s1600-h/CharlotteBoatWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJg2mT2-I/AAAAAAAAAz8/Hyxbw3ZN-p0/s400/CharlotteBoatWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385400820677467106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And they're off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJc9LON5I/AAAAAAAAAz0/oYaIs-4V9gM/s1600-h/Mike%26Char3Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJc9LON5I/AAAAAAAAAz0/oYaIs-4V9gM/s400/Mike%26Char3Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385400753723422610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Every time the boat rocked a little bit, she'd say, "That freaks me out!"  Ahhhh, nothing like some quality time with Daddy!  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJYyOutXI/AAAAAAAAAzs/m1vVlusmEI0/s1600-h/Mike%26Char2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJYyOutXI/AAAAAAAAAzs/m1vVlusmEI0/s400/Mike%26Char2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385400682065868146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-9071307802117667548?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/9071307802117667548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=9071307802117667548&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9071307802117667548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9071307802117667548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/09/that-freaks-me-out.html' title='That Freaks Me Out'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrzJg2mT2-I/AAAAAAAAAz8/Hyxbw3ZN-p0/s72-c/CharlotteBoatWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2537468050135458222</id><published>2009-09-18T17:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T17:01:30.999-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>What Did She Say?</title><content type='html'>While in the north woods we spent a day at the private lake on my inlaw's property.  I happened to be on the pier getting photos of Mike and Charlotte out on the row boat when I found myself in the position of capturing a totally boy moment.  See, Zachary had already been in the water (in his jeans) and was changed by Mom and told not to go back into the water in his jeans.  As his Auntie, who would never dream of snitching on him, I had to take the photos for the story they told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The water calls me......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQB8Yais1I/AAAAAAAAAzk/W6ORmxqBZ40/s1600-h/Zachary1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQB8Yais1I/AAAAAAAAAzk/W6ORmxqBZ40/s400/Zachary1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382929591472141138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;See how it goes splish-splash??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQB40mVRII/AAAAAAAAAzc/ggNaodVRmRU/s1600-h/Zachary2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQB40mVRII/AAAAAAAAAzc/ggNaodVRmRU/s400/Zachary2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382929530318308482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hmmm.  Momma told me something, but I can't seem to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQByiO8IHI/AAAAAAAAAzU/1Ex7K6oTBuQ/s1600-h/Zachary4Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQByiO8IHI/AAAAAAAAAzU/1Ex7K6oTBuQ/s400/Zachary4Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382929422309138546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh I remember now.  Don't chew on my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQBs3iGpEI/AAAAAAAAAzM/MCNnFSVw9ck/s1600-h/Zachary6Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQBs3iGpEI/AAAAAAAAAzM/MCNnFSVw9ck/s400/Zachary6Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382929324947448898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wet jeans were made for decorating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQBm0otU0I/AAAAAAAAAzE/aZ_5n85np6Y/s1600-h/Zachary8Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQBm0otU0I/AAAAAAAAAzE/aZ_5n85np6Y/s400/Zachary8Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382929221090628418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But that's OK.  I can just slip right back into the water and wash the sand sprinkles off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQBjIeob_I/AAAAAAAAAy8/pxJyDSsIBnc/s1600-h/Zachary9Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQBjIeob_I/AAAAAAAAAy8/pxJyDSsIBnc/s400/Zachary9Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382929157697597426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2537468050135458222?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2537468050135458222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2537468050135458222&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2537468050135458222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2537468050135458222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-did-she-say.html' title='What Did She Say?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SrQB8Yais1I/AAAAAAAAAzk/W6ORmxqBZ40/s72-c/Zachary1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4789637688521586058</id><published>2009-09-15T07:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T07:52:00.300-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><title type='text'>Soil Experiment</title><content type='html'>This past week has seen our little school in full swing.  I wasn't all too thrilled with our curriculum's decision to start things off learning about dirt and rocks (aka geology), but have been trying to make the best of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We imported soil  from two states, so combined with our own, we had Arkansas, Wisconsin, and Illinois  covered.  Soil has many different layers - I'll spare you all the lesson - but to see those layers we dumped in about 1/2 cup of soil into a container (I recommend glass; plastic isn't as easy to see) then filled the container up half way with water.  The kids enjoyed the shaking part immensely, then we let it all settle down into layers.  They were running to look at it all day long to see the progress.  It's a little difficult to see from the photo, but rocks are at the bottom, followed by sand, clay, water, and humus floating on the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there you have it, a soil experiment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqwS7LsOPVI/AAAAAAAAAy0/oBzUdWfQMzY/s1600-h/SoilExperimentWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqwS7LsOPVI/AAAAAAAAAy0/oBzUdWfQMzY/s400/SoilExperimentWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380696462760754514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4789637688521586058?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4789637688521586058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4789637688521586058&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4789637688521586058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4789637688521586058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/09/soil-experiment.html' title='Soil Experiment'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqwS7LsOPVI/AAAAAAAAAy0/oBzUdWfQMzY/s72-c/SoilExperimentWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1483219433859200343</id><published>2009-09-12T15:57:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T16:04:54.821-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><title type='text'>My Crafty Self</title><content type='html'>Our local library is really awesome with all their children's programs, contests, free stuff, concerts, books, movies, and their "Adult Programs."  For instance, they offer various crafts for kids and adults.  I decided to sign up for one of them since it sounded simple enough - an autumn grapevine wreath - and the price couldn't be beat:  Five bucks!  So I went there this afternoon, and along with a bunch of other ladies and one 9 year old boy (who didn't do such a shabby job, I might add), put together a wreath in about an hour.  I have to say that it turned out really nice, but that bow was a real pain!!  Think hand cramps.     While I'll be sad when the weather requires Mike to remove the front screen door and put in the storm door, on the plus side, I'll have something really pretty to hang up on the door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqwMebpD7AI/AAAAAAAAAys/kozJ7S3kruw/s1600-h/AutumnWreathWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqwMebpD7AI/AAAAAAAAAys/kozJ7S3kruw/s400/AutumnWreathWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380689371756489730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1483219433859200343?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1483219433859200343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1483219433859200343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1483219433859200343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1483219433859200343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-crafty-self.html' title='My Crafty Self'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqwMebpD7AI/AAAAAAAAAys/kozJ7S3kruw/s72-c/AutumnWreathWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1856792937455309914</id><published>2009-09-10T13:23:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T13:45:03.182-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>We drove up to the north woods again this Labor Day.  It may become an annual trip for us.  We all enjoy the time we spend there hanging out with family, the weather is still nice, and the autumn foliage is just starting to turn.    This trip was made even more special by being able to meet our newest nephew, Mason, who is the cutest little peanut I've seen since my own kids were&lt;br /&gt;"lil peanuts".  :-)    I could hold him all day long!  I've picked a few random photos of the weekend to share (and maybe I'll be able to post a photo of me if it gets emailed to me by my mother-in-law....hint hint).    Stay tuned next week for a funny recap of an episode that I was able to capture on camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Charlotte, Eric, Zachary, and Aaron on a frog hunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlE8FFzDWI/AAAAAAAAAyE/LGy-ZpUB4ho/s1600-h/Cousins2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlE8FFzDWI/AAAAAAAAAyE/LGy-ZpUB4ho/s400/Cousins2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379907028820102498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mike &amp;amp; Charlotte at the lake (Lake Ethel?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFDtFWQPI/AAAAAAAAAyU/XLKSYyAueoM/s1600-h/Mike%26Char1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFDtFWQPI/AAAAAAAAAyU/XLKSYyAueoM/s400/Mike%26Char1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379907159814717682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Cousins&lt;br /&gt;(purely coincidence that they lined up in height order!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlE40nrR3I/AAAAAAAAAx8/ctgVXoKWbOg/s1600-h/CousinsWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlE40nrR3I/AAAAAAAAAx8/ctgVXoKWbOg/s400/CousinsWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379906972859189106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mike takes a dip in the frigid Lake Superior waters.  Brrrrr......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFADUOUdI/AAAAAAAAAyM/GqPpu--ldP4/s1600-h/Mike1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFADUOUdI/AAAAAAAAAyM/GqPpu--ldP4/s400/Mike1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379907097063215570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Zachary has these amazing eye lashes.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFHaNYLRI/AAAAAAAAAyc/PmFjppFX_8w/s1600-h/Zach2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFHaNYLRI/AAAAAAAAAyc/PmFjppFX_8w/s400/Zach2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379907223467601170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Mother-in-Law's walking mop.  ;-)  Actually, Zeke (or "Z") is a very sweet dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFKJ-WFwI/AAAAAAAAAyk/Z8RRXL94k3s/s1600-h/Zeke1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlFKJ-WFwI/AAAAAAAAAyk/Z8RRXL94k3s/s400/Zeke1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379907270649190146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1856792937455309914?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1856792937455309914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1856792937455309914&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1856792937455309914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1856792937455309914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/09/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SqlE8FFzDWI/AAAAAAAAAyE/LGy-ZpUB4ho/s72-c/Cousins2Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3610070467201194122</id><published>2009-09-03T10:37:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T10:47:57.909-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Small Group'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>LIVE, From Green Bay, WI</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I went with the women in our small group and a couple others  to Green Bay to see Beth Moore.  This weekend was also a live simulcast at over 500 churches worldwide, and something like 90,000 mostly women were listening this weekend.  But she was IN Green Bay, which is where we were!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an incredible weekend!  The worship music was amazing, and Beth Moore's message, per usual, was relevant and spoke to my heart.   Here's a short slide show of the weekend in Green Bay (you'll have to silence my radio off to your right first.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~  Psalm 37:4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="400" height="225"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6362507&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6362507&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/6362507"&gt;Living Proof Live - Simulcast - Green Bay WI&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/richkphoto"&gt;Rich Kalonick&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3610070467201194122?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3610070467201194122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3610070467201194122&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3610070467201194122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3610070467201194122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/09/live-from-green-bay-wi.html' title='LIVE, From Green Bay, WI'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6581209110097425993</id><published>2009-08-31T20:03:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T20:21:04.820-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Back To......Homeschool</title><content type='html'>This day made possible by many family and friends' prayers and support, plus generous donations of books and even a printer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; the&lt;/span&gt; day!!  We launched Flood Academy (not sure what to call our little school.  Suggestions?)  Because it was not only the first day of school, but also the first day of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt;, I made pancakes for breakfast.  This made the children putty in my hands, an unexpected, yet wonderful, reward for my efforts.  Actually, the day went really well.  We're easing into things this week with math, reading, and phonics.  Next week we'll add on everything else.   Since it was so cold this morning (what is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;up&lt;/span&gt; with that on August 31?!), we did back-to-school photos after lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Charlotte shows off her new backpack (yes, she'll need one for our Co-Op enrichment school)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Spxzje1SlVI/AAAAAAAAAx0/-pWDKpTe-Fw/s1600-h/BackpackCharWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Spxzje1SlVI/AAAAAAAAAx0/-pWDKpTe-Fw/s400/BackpackCharWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376299108582724946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Both kids and their backpacks (I need to have a chat with Eric about his, uh, "cool" face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzfX7EeSI/AAAAAAAAAxs/39JppXNPnvo/s1600-h/BackpacksWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzfX7EeSI/AAAAAAAAAxs/39JppXNPnvo/s400/BackpacksWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376299038008441122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids were not having anything to do with touching each other for a "together" photo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzasDm_2I/AAAAAAAAAxk/nrCSSJRb6Rw/s1600-h/NoTouchWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzasDm_2I/AAAAAAAAAxk/nrCSSJRb6Rw/s400/NoTouchWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376298957513621346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;....until I pleaded with them.  Eric makes it look like a painful experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzV8oyQKI/AAAAAAAAAxc/wzkDWwwW0sY/s1600-h/BothKids1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzV8oyQKI/AAAAAAAAAxc/wzkDWwwW0sY/s400/BothKids1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376298876065169570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I think they've had enough of me and my camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzPfzfaSI/AAAAAAAAAxU/4I8a7X7y_Ow/s1600-h/EnufWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzPfzfaSI/AAAAAAAAAxU/4I8a7X7y_Ow/s400/EnufWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376298765246228770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzK0WKCHI/AAAAAAAAAxM/73FI6bqQF9g/s1600-h/Charlotte1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzK0WKCHI/AAAAAAAAAxM/73FI6bqQF9g/s400/Charlotte1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376298684860991602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzHia4lqI/AAAAAAAAAxE/-_E4WptFwsU/s1600-h/Eric5x5Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SpxzHia4lqI/AAAAAAAAAxE/-_E4WptFwsU/s400/Eric5x5Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376298628509374114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6581209110097425993?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6581209110097425993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6581209110097425993&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6581209110097425993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6581209110097425993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-tohomeschool.html' title='Back To......Homeschool'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Spxzje1SlVI/AAAAAAAAAx0/-pWDKpTe-Fw/s72-c/BackpackCharWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-827390011209248381</id><published>2009-08-19T13:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T19:32:41.095-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Do ya feel lucky, punk?</title><content type='html'>Tuesday the kids and I went on a little bike ride to the local park.  I decided to take a load off and sit in the shade of a tree off in the grass.  No sooner had I sat down than my eye caught a glimpse of a four leaf clover.  I've never found one in my entire life, though I definitely clocked some hours as a child looking for the elusive weed.    Of course both kids wanted to have it, but I said "No" (Mom of the year candidate here.   Mine Mine Mine.   Do I have to share everything?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say, " Let the good luck roll...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sor7MrsA2LI/AAAAAAAAAw8/bfC4jWm-hC0/s1600-h/4LeafClover1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sor7MrsA2LI/AAAAAAAAAw8/bfC4jWm-hC0/s400/4LeafClover1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371381700897069234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-827390011209248381?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/827390011209248381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=827390011209248381&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/827390011209248381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/827390011209248381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/08/do-ya-feel-lucky-punk.html' title='Do ya feel lucky, punk?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sor7MrsA2LI/AAAAAAAAAw8/bfC4jWm-hC0/s72-c/4LeafClover1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-411955966791595533</id><published>2009-08-17T17:16:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T17:27:47.193-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jesus'/><title type='text'>How High Do You Count?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;An excerpt from "Count to Eight" by Max Lucado:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“We have here only five loaves and two fish.” (Matt. 14:17)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;How do you suppose Jesus felt about the basket inventory? Any chance he might have wanted them to include the rest of the possibilities? Involve all the options? Do you think he was hoping someone might count to eight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Well, let’s see. We have five loaves, two fish…and Jesus!” Jesus Christ. The same Jesus who told us:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. (Luke 11:19 NIV)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. (John 15:7 NIV)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What ever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. (Mark 11:24 NIV)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Standing next to the disciples was the solution to their problems…but they didn’t go to him. They stopped their count at seven and worried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What about you? Are you counting to seven, or to eight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-411955966791595533?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/411955966791595533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=411955966791595533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/411955966791595533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/411955966791595533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/08/how-high-do-you-count.html' title='How High Do You Count?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1337428796787973171</id><published>2009-07-27T21:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T21:21:55.218-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Indoctrinating Children</title><content type='html'>As Cubs baseball fans, we've tried to make sure that our children know for which team to cheer.  In the winter, it's the Bears.  In the summer, it can be none other than the Cubs!  To that end, when given the chance, we dress our children in appropriate clothing.  It's all part of the brainwashing......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sm5doxkp-PI/AAAAAAAAAw0/6F7hHSxg0fU/s1600-h/CharlotteCubs1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sm5doxkp-PI/AAAAAAAAAw0/6F7hHSxg0fU/s320/CharlotteCubs1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363327161328072946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1337428796787973171?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1337428796787973171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1337428796787973171&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1337428796787973171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1337428796787973171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/indoctrinating-children.html' title='Indoctrinating Children'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sm5doxkp-PI/AAAAAAAAAw0/6F7hHSxg0fU/s72-c/CharlotteCubs1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2532458520020646806</id><published>2009-07-15T07:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T07:42:00.462-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>4,100</title><content type='html'>That's how many pages I read from mid-May to early July to get through the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/span&gt; 7-book series.  I thoroughly enjoyed it, but must admit I was left a little unsatisfied with how it all ended.    There's a part of me that hopes J.K. Rowling will decide, if she hasn't gotten sick of the characters, to write a couple books about how the characters got from the Great Hall in the final chapter to 19 years later in the Epilogue.  You can bet, though, that I'll be dragging someone with me to go see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Harry Potter and the Half-Blood&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Prince&lt;/span&gt; this month.  Anyone else looking forward to this and the next two HP movies coming out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://harrypotter.warnerbros.com/harrypotterandthehalf-bloodprince/media/images/downloads/posters/DomesticOnesheet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 360px;" src="http://harrypotter.warnerbros.com/harrypotterandthehalf-bloodprince/media/images/downloads/posters/DomesticOnesheet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2532458520020646806?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2532458520020646806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2532458520020646806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2532458520020646806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2532458520020646806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/4100.html' title='4,100'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1063429885710042848</id><published>2009-07-12T14:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T14:30:00.992-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>High School Musical Jr.</title><content type='html'>Charlotte was signed up for summer camp through Christian Youth Theater last week.  Each morning she went to practice  dances, music, and lines for a little showcase of HSM.  The kids on the "yellow team" were 5-6 year olds, and they were simply adorable!   I had to smile as I watched Charlotte who seemed to be watching US more than she was paying attention to her dance partner.    Here's a little series of shots I took during one of the routines:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMkLQ_LkI/AAAAAAAAAwM/n3XpL5h0tWk/s1600-h/Cheer4Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMkLQ_LkI/AAAAAAAAAwM/n3XpL5h0tWk/s320/Cheer4Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357397416116956738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMxUhDD0I/AAAAAAAAAws/zSKGUwgTnLY/s1600-h/Cheer1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMxUhDD0I/AAAAAAAAAws/zSKGUwgTnLY/s320/Cheer1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357397641938538306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMu4yZOUI/AAAAAAAAAwk/3_67AO-p2Yg/s1600-h/Cheer2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMu4yZOUI/AAAAAAAAAwk/3_67AO-p2Yg/s320/Cheer2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357397600135362882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMr25BgBI/AAAAAAAAAwc/cFpCB5UIz5o/s1600-h/Cheer3Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMr25BgBI/AAAAAAAAAwc/cFpCB5UIz5o/s320/Cheer3Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357397548086689810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1063429885710042848?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1063429885710042848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1063429885710042848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1063429885710042848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1063429885710042848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/high-school-musical-jr.html' title='High School Musical Jr.'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SllMkLQ_LkI/AAAAAAAAAwM/n3XpL5h0tWk/s72-c/Cheer4Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-7114362644762135655</id><published>2009-07-10T07:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T07:15:00.788-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Tax Dollars At Work</title><content type='html'>Doesn't it seem wrong to use our tax dollars to stamp out signs that inform us how our tax dollars are being used?   This is the second time I've seen this sign around where I live.  This particular sign is on the way to our church, and I have to admit, I've not seen any part of America being "put to work" on this stretch of road in the past several weeks.    Who knows....maybe the trucks and crew fell into one of the crater-sized pot holes they came to repair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SlUirXsJbCI/AAAAAAAAAwE/ULR16bEplpg/s1600-h/TaxDollars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SlUirXsJbCI/AAAAAAAAAwE/ULR16bEplpg/s400/TaxDollars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356225460315974690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-7114362644762135655?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/7114362644762135655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=7114362644762135655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7114362644762135655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7114362644762135655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/tax-dollars-at-work.html' title='Tax Dollars At Work'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SlUirXsJbCI/AAAAAAAAAwE/ULR16bEplpg/s72-c/TaxDollars.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5118194518975620272</id><published>2009-07-06T08:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T21:50:31.049-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homeschooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>The Big Decision</title><content type='html'>I think we've all heard the saying, "God laughs at our plans"??   Well He's having a good 'ole knee slapper right about now, I think.  I used to say that I would home school if I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; to; what I really meant was that I'd home school if we found ourselves living in the wilds of Alaska 400 miles away from the nearest public school.    I really resisted the idea of home schooling for a long time, but God has been persistent in urging me to look into it.  After months of researching, reading many books, praying, and talking with home schooling families, we've decided to home school our kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past month or so I've hunted for home schooling curriculum and checked into a co-op, plus attended a 3-day home schooling conference.  There are not only thousands of curriculum choices, but it can be fairly expensive depending on what you go with and how much work you're willing to do on your own.   This is a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;slight&lt;/span&gt; concern since Mike's employment has been sporadic since his lay-off last October (another reason home schooling seems like a crazy thing to do. This decision is a huge step of faith!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that research led me to a particular curriculum that appeared to meet my criteria, while also taking into consideration my kids' learning styles and my teaching style.   To remain true to myself , I had to be completely thorough in my researching, so I also joined a "Yahoo Group" of families who use this curriculum so that I could learn as much as possible from women who were already using it. I began to sense conviction, as well as peace, about this choice of curriculum, even after browsing many other worthy options that had made it onto my short list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week the moderator posted on the curriculum Yahoo Group that there was a &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;full starter set&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of this particular curriculum available as a gift for anyone in need.....as a matter of fact, she was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;reposting&lt;/span&gt; the notice since no one had come forward to state they had a need.  I was practically dancing in my seat as I sent her an email indicating I'd be interested.  She forwarded my request to the family that had, 4 years prior, received this set brand new as a gift during a difficult time in their lives, and they were "paying it forward".  Pam's situation 4 years ago was so similar to where my family is at right now (her husband was in construction and laid off just like my husband, my Mom is battling cancer and Pam's sister &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sheryl&lt;/span&gt; was battling cancer, etc.).    It's almost eerily similar, but I don't believe in coincidences.  When Mike and I  stepped out in faith to choose home schooling despite our finances so up in the air, I believed God would provide......but never in my wildest imagination did I think He'd provide a very specific curriculum for us - chosen from hundreds of options - through a stranger's gift.  We're not even being asked to pay for shipping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be an understatement to say that God continues to amaze me in how good He is to us, how mindful He is of the little things that concern us, and how He never leads us somewhere without making sure we have what we need for the journey.  And if this is how the journey is starting off, I'm sure that my imagination can't even conceive of what an incredible year it's going to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.aophomeschooling.com/media/images/products/WKV01_L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 257px;" src="http://www.aophomeschooling.com/media/images/products/WKV01_L.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5118194518975620272?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5118194518975620272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5118194518975620272&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5118194518975620272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5118194518975620272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/big-decision.html' title='The Big Decision'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1368291499992110876</id><published>2009-07-02T22:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T22:08:30.513-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>There's Nothing Like Mama</title><content type='html'>Last week we headed down to visit my Mom, who is recovering from her latest cancer treatment.  Besides our family of 4, we also went with my brother and niece, so our van was full of people and luggage!  We had a nice time visiting, and as always, the time flies by much too fast.  Here are a few photos from our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLF71_74I/AAAAAAAAAvc/x0DfiSAhvxs/s1600-h/MomWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLF71_74I/AAAAAAAAAvc/x0DfiSAhvxs/s400/MomWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353595884883931010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My niece, Lynae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkwC-zebW5I/AAAAAAAAAv8/rjWu1uRUOQo/s1600-h/LynaeWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkwC-zebW5I/AAAAAAAAAv8/rjWu1uRUOQo/s400/LynaeWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353657335029652370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLS8cb3GI/AAAAAAAAAv0/AvlWy2YeS44/s1600-h/Lynae2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLS8cb3GI/AAAAAAAAAv0/AvlWy2YeS44/s400/Lynae2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353596108383444066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Uncle Tom helps Eric build a spaceship with Legos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLKkBB81I/AAAAAAAAAvk/zwn2anYGJAA/s1600-h/LegosWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLKkBB81I/AAAAAAAAAvk/zwn2anYGJAA/s400/LegosWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353595964387095378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Grandparents are easily impressed by their grandchildren.  Charlotte reads a book to her Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLPCVfEoI/AAAAAAAAAvs/Pxc56oqDDvE/s1600-h/ReadWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLPCVfEoI/AAAAAAAAAvs/Pxc56oqDDvE/s400/ReadWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353596041245430402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1368291499992110876?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1368291499992110876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1368291499992110876&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1368291499992110876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1368291499992110876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/theres-nothing-like-mama.html' title='There&apos;s Nothing Like Mama'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SkvLF71_74I/AAAAAAAAAvc/x0DfiSAhvxs/s72-c/MomWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4135982139992704814</id><published>2009-07-01T09:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T09:21:16.977-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><title type='text'>Queen Of The Slackers</title><content type='html'>My goodness, I can't believe I've allowed about 6 weeks to pass since my last blog update!  In my defense, I've been spending much of my computer time researching and reading.  Hopefully things will settle down now, and I can continue on with a more regular schedule of blogging, which I miss doing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check back later this week!  I promise to have something new for you to read!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4135982139992704814?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4135982139992704814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4135982139992704814&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4135982139992704814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4135982139992704814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/07/queen-of-slackers.html' title='Queen Of The Slackers'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6380392720864199262</id><published>2009-05-22T13:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T13:24:07.927-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>I'll let you in on a little secret...</title><content type='html'>....nothing earth shattering, mind you.  Perhaps you're unaware of why this happens, so I'm here to tell you why.  Ever make deviled eggs (or even egg salad) and wonder why on earth an egg will occasionally peel really nicely and other times (usually when you want to make deviled eggs), the egg has left half of the whites attached to the shell?  This is what I'm talking about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ShbsRzVp8KI/AAAAAAAAAvU/SFkHUuIhA58/s1600-h/Egg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ShbsRzVp8KI/AAAAAAAAAvU/SFkHUuIhA58/s400/Egg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338714198877270178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I heard somewhere (TV cooking show maybe?) and filed that nugget of information away until today, when I had an opportunity to test their theory.  Sure enough, it's true!  Old eggs peel nicely and newer eggs look like the one on your right.  When I say "old" eggs, I don't mean expired.  The smooth eggs don't expire till May 31.  However, the really ugly looking eggs were just bought this week and still have a couple weeks left till their expiration date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time you want smoothly peeled eggs, make sure you buy some "older" eggs or buy a couple weeks ahead of when you plan on making them.  And sure enough they'll be easy to peel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6380392720864199262?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6380392720864199262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6380392720864199262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6380392720864199262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6380392720864199262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/05/ill-let-you-in-on-little-secret.html' title='I&apos;ll let you in on a little secret...'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ShbsRzVp8KI/AAAAAAAAAvU/SFkHUuIhA58/s72-c/Egg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8116730153366934099</id><published>2009-05-10T14:24:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T14:47:42.514-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Words You Don't Want To Be Greeted With When You Answer The Door</title><content type='html'>For example, "Hello, is Mike home?"  Guy flips up his badge.  "I'm from the Attorney General's office."  Thud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're on Facebook, you already know the situation about the ticket on the van.  Let me rehash in case you didn't catch it.  Mike parks his van in the driveway at night.  It was over 30' off the street.  A couple weeks ago the police left a ticket on his windshield at 2:55 a.m. for not having a village sticker displayed in the window.  The following morning he went over to the police department to explain that he had bought the village sticker back in February, but just hadn't put it on the window.  The police officer didn't care.  Mike questioned why there were on private property at that hour, and the officer basically said that "in a court of law" it would stand up that policemen can see that far in the dark, and so that gave them reason to come onto our property.  Nevermind that it was a 2" x 3" sticker this officer supposedly could see.  In the dark.  From 31' away.   So Mike went to the Mayor to complain.  The Mayor was quite sympathetic and helpful, actually, and within a couple of hours, someone from the Mayor's office called to say the ticket had been dismissed.    Woohoo for the little guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the guy from the Attorney General's office standing on my front porch.  Mike did happen to be home that day and to make a long story short, it appears Mike unwittingly got caught up in some small town scandal, for crying out loud.   The Mayor handled the dismissal of the ticket illegally, along with a slew of other things (nothing we're involved in, just want to make that clear.)  The Mayor is in some serious hot water and under investigation.  I suppose that would explain why he didn't run for office for more than one term.  So the Attorney General  guy came to our house three times to talk with Mike about this ticket, how it all went down, who said what, and it just seemed a bit ridiculous over a stupid ticket for a village sticker that we already owned.    Doesn't it just seem wrong that on the one hand you have the police doing their job (albeit a bit shifty in my opinion) but they're legal about it.  And then you have the Mayor who takes the time to listen to a problem and try to solve it, and it's illegal.   I guess it's true what they say:  No good deed goes unpunished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8116730153366934099?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8116730153366934099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8116730153366934099&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8116730153366934099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8116730153366934099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/05/words-you-dont-want-to-be-greeted-with.html' title='Words You Don&apos;t Want To Be Greeted With When You Answer The Door'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-631263641238414968</id><published>2009-05-03T18:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:19:58.794-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Just A Drop In The Bucket</title><content type='html'>Before President Obama took office, he said, "We're going to have to bring significant reform not just to our recovery and reinvestment plan, but to the overall budget process, to address both the deficit of dollars and the deficit of trust.  We'll have to make tough choices, and we're going to have to break old habits."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that end, he has requested that his Cabinet make $100 million in cuts in agency operations.    When asked if the efficiency saving isn't just a drop in the bucket,  Obama replied, "It is.  None of these things alone are going to make a difference. But cumulatively, they make an extraordinary difference because they start setting a tone ... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;$100 million there, $100 million here -- pretty soon, even here in Washington, it adds up to real money&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cWt8hTayupE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cWt8hTayupE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-631263641238414968?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/631263641238414968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=631263641238414968&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/631263641238414968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/631263641238414968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-drop-in-bucket.html' title='Just A Drop In The Bucket'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2904525833042501937</id><published>2009-04-27T10:40:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T11:06:41.999-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><title type='text'>A Sight For Sore Eyes</title><content type='html'>The older I get the longer winter seems.  I'm sure it's about the same length as it was when I was a child, but for some reason I get less tolerant of snow, cold, bitter winds, and the lack of anything pretty to look at out the window.  Sure, I'll grant you that snow is pretty while it's falling down.  But give it a couple hours and it'll be brown from the dirt it hits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 11 years ago in the cold winter of January we moved into our current home.    I looked forward to spring to see what might come out of the earth....to see what the former owners may have planted.  Boy, was I disappointed.  Not one tulip nor daffidil.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nuthin&lt;/span&gt;'.  So that fall I bought 4 tulip bulbs and a handful of crocus bulbs from a local nursery, stuck them in the ground near our entry way out the front, and hoped for the best.  I was very pleased the following spring with what came out of the ground....and every spring since.  The crocus are the first to burst out of the ground, but unfortunately this year they flopped over after the single digit evening temps and being pummeled with a couple of snow falls.  So I turned my attention to the tulips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little worried they might not make it.  Last year we pretty much ripped out almost all the bushes from the front of our house, including the boxwood (which were half dead) near the entry way.  I had planted those tulips and crocus in between the bushes, so I lifted them out last summer before Mike dug out the stumps and moved the bulbs to my garden out back.  I was hoping they would survive.  What a pleasant surprise to see that they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what it is about these tulips in particular that I really like.  Maybe their vibrant color, their unique shape.....or maybe it's just they were the first thing I ever planted after we moved into our home.  All I know is that I was very happy to see them bloom again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SfXUAPGghfI/AAAAAAAAAvM/CTr-yvp4wRE/s1600-h/TulipWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SfXUAPGghfI/AAAAAAAAAvM/CTr-yvp4wRE/s400/TulipWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329398834581767666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2904525833042501937?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2904525833042501937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2904525833042501937&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2904525833042501937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2904525833042501937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/sight-for-sore-eyes.html' title='A Sight For Sore Eyes'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SfXUAPGghfI/AAAAAAAAAvM/CTr-yvp4wRE/s72-c/TulipWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-783585934054922461</id><published>2009-04-22T16:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T16:33:53.753-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><title type='text'>That's Not Very Reassuring</title><content type='html'>Today the school sent home a "Dear Parents" note to let us know how in-tune they are with parental concern over all the school violence going on over the past several years.  They wanted to make sure parents know that they're on top of things, that they "continually review and revise safety and emergency procedures carefully.  [They] have developed lockdown procedures in conjunction with the [local] Police Department......"      The note goes on to say they'll have a drill later this week prior to the children coming to school and to not be alarmed by police cars in the parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know they want to reassure me as a parent that the school where I send my child for most of his day is a safe place.  But I think they missed the point.  I don't find the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; for lockdown drill's in my child's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;elementary school&lt;/span&gt; very reassuring at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-783585934054922461?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/783585934054922461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=783585934054922461&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/783585934054922461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/783585934054922461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/thats-not-very-reassuring.html' title='That&apos;s Not Very Reassuring'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1582895530894302536</id><published>2009-04-15T14:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T14:28:22.538-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Word of the Year</title><content type='html'>Did you know the powers that be at the American Dialect Society vote on a Word of the Year (WOTY)?  How did I miss this?  Some of them are pretty good!  Take 2006, for instance.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plutoed&lt;/span&gt; is the WOTY&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; (demoted or devalued, as happened to the former planet Pluto)&lt;/span&gt;.    Loads of people are getting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;plutoed&lt;/span&gt; due to our economy!    WOTY for 1990 was bushlips (insincere political rhetoric.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe the WOTY in 1996 was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mom&lt;/span&gt;?  What's up with that?  No one ever hear the word before this?  There's no surprise with 1999's WOTY:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Y2K&lt;/span&gt; (didn't you just want to scream by the end of of 1999 if you heard that word one more time?!)   It's also no surprise that 2008's WOTY was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bailout&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some words in the past that didn't make the cut:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Blook&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(a blog turned into a book)&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ego Surfing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(searching the web for your own name)&lt;/span&gt;;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Happy Kwanhanamas&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Kwanzaa + Hanukkah + Christmas)&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;whale tail&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(the appearance of thong or g-string underwear above the waistband of pants, shorts, or a skirt)&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;muffin top&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(the bulge of flesh hanging over the top of low-rider jeans)&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;partner reduction&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(divorce)&lt;/span&gt;.....just to name a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like we'll be waiting to find out what 2009's WOTY till early next year.   I don't think they take nominations for WOTY till December so we all have some time to come up with something.  However,  the American Dialect Society is currently taking suggestions for their Word of the Decade (2000-2009).  If interested, you can read all about that &lt;a href="http://www.americandialect.org/index.php/amerdial/word_of_the_decade_nominations_open_for_2000_2009/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1582895530894302536?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1582895530894302536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1582895530894302536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1582895530894302536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1582895530894302536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/word-of-year.html' title='Word of the Year'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3953129283875827484</id><published>2009-04-12T20:41:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T21:07:59.636-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><title type='text'>A Good Day</title><content type='html'>This whole weekend was great and a reminder of what an awesome God we have!  After a powerful Good Friday service, our whole family served together in the Kindergarten and First Grade room for the next service.  Mike was the teacher, since that's where he normally serves, and I was small group leader for Kindergarten boys (oy vay!) We went to Easter service early on Saturday (over Easter and Christmas, our church does multiple holiday services over a period of a couple days since there are so many folks that come.)     Sunday I was able to cook for my family, and we were joined by my Dad and Candace.  It was a wonderful time of food, relaxing, talking and just enjoying the awesome day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few photos of the kids:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKcAgJ-MvI/AAAAAAAAAuc/SW0Q0PaMOn0/s1600-h/Charlotte1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKcAgJ-MvI/AAAAAAAAAuc/SW0Q0PaMOn0/s400/Charlotte1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323989241951040242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, how my girl loves shoes.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKb56PAmHI/AAAAAAAAAuM/FzqXaK4AYwQ/s1600-h/Eric2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKb56PAmHI/AAAAAAAAAuM/FzqXaK4AYwQ/s400/Eric2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323989128692406386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eric is off and running to find eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKcGVcBf_I/AAAAAAAAAuk/E8fGsYFH-gU/s1600-h/EricWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKcGVcBf_I/AAAAAAAAAuk/E8fGsYFH-gU/s400/EricWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323989342153179122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKb1TYmsDI/AAAAAAAAAuE/K3VghwPoo3I/s1600-h/EggHunt1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKb1TYmsDI/AAAAAAAAAuE/K3VghwPoo3I/s400/EggHunt1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323989049544192050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKb9hCY-aI/AAAAAAAAAuU/8ixc47ecVgE/s1600-h/Charlotte3Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKb9hCY-aI/AAAAAAAAAuU/8ixc47ecVgE/s400/Charlotte3Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323989190648068514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Both kids seemed to be in a hurry to find all the eggs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3953129283875827484?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3953129283875827484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3953129283875827484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3953129283875827484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3953129283875827484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-day.html' title='A Good Day'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SeKcAgJ-MvI/AAAAAAAAAuc/SW0Q0PaMOn0/s72-c/Charlotte1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8713019742593398353</id><published>2009-04-09T18:55:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T19:46:59.062-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>"I get knocked down, but I get up again"</title><content type='html'>This song suddenly popped into my head  as I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself.  As a general rule, I try not to dwell on the negatives going on in my life.  I fare better if I sort of block them out and don't deal with them on a minute-by-minute basis.   That's not to say I live in fantasy land. I do "deal" with the bad stuff, but when there's too much of it, my coping mechanism is to file it all away in a remote, yet accessible, place rather than constantly think and talk about it.  There's a lot of crappy stuff going on all around me.....some stuff I'm "livin' it", but mostly the bad stuff is happening to people I love.  I feel helpless; my heart aches....unbelievably aches.   I can't do much but pray. Even that strikes me as pointless when it seems every good thing that happens is promptly followed up with something bad.    Lately I've been wondering why bother.   I know I have many things I'm thankful for, but at times those wonderful things get overshadowed by the tremendous emotional roller coaster and stress I'm under right now.     You could say this is a really difficult season of life, and at times (like today) I know it's not me "hanging on", but God holding me in the palm of His hand lest I slip away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;"I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall.  I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me.  Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:  Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.  They are new every  morning; great is Your faithfulness."    ~  Lamentations 3:19-23&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8713019742593398353?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8713019742593398353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8713019742593398353&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8713019742593398353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8713019742593398353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-get-knocked-down-but-i-get-up-again.html' title='&quot;I get knocked down, but I get up again&quot;'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4482981105786502514</id><published>2009-04-06T15:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T16:25:51.033-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fitness'/><title type='text'>Worst Food Ever</title><content type='html'>I'm back on my diet and exercise regimen after falling off the wagon last October.  Sadly I've gained back the few pounds I lost last spring, and if I don't get busy being healthy again I will have to buy a new summer wardrobe in a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;larger size&lt;/span&gt;.   No thanks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do think 25 years of on and off smoking whacked out my metabolism, so combined with my age, this equates to very little food for me and daily exercise just to lose a pound or two a week.   Fortunately I don't smoke anymore, but all the weight I gained after I quit over 2 years ago remains a stubborn problem area for me.  I get so tired of trying to come up with healthy and tasty food.  They should be a package deal in my opinion.  I'm tired of "grilled this or that" with a salad or steamed broccoli....again.  I need some fresh ideas.    Unfortunately I won't find them here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonic Minute Maid Cranberry Juice Slush (“Route 44”–extra large)&lt;br /&gt;616 calories&lt;br /&gt;165 g sugars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taco Bell Grilled Stuffed Beef Burrito&lt;br /&gt;680 calories&lt;br /&gt;30 g fat (10 g saturated fat)&lt;br /&gt;2,120 mg sodium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McDonald's Large Triple Thick Chocolate Milkshake&lt;br /&gt;1,160 calories&lt;br /&gt;27 g fat (16 g saturated fat)&lt;br /&gt;168 g sugar&lt;br /&gt;510 mg sodium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.F. Changs Wonton Soup Bowl&lt;br /&gt;693 calories&lt;br /&gt;24 g fat (3 g saturated)&lt;br /&gt;5,328 mg sodium&lt;br /&gt;49 g carbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red Lobster Seafood Shrimp Trio&lt;br /&gt;1,030 calories&lt;br /&gt;58 g fat (13 g saturated)&lt;br /&gt;3,490 mg sodium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IHOP Garden Omelet&lt;br /&gt;1,150 calories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruby Tuesday  Avocado Turkey Burger&lt;br /&gt;1,088 calories&lt;br /&gt;63 g fat&lt;br /&gt;62 g carbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cinnabon Classic Cinnamon Roll&lt;br /&gt;813 calories&lt;br /&gt;32 g fat (5 g trans fat)&lt;br /&gt;117 g carbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dairy Queen Large Strawberry CheeseQuake Blizzard&lt;br /&gt;990 calories&lt;br /&gt;39 g fat (24 g saturated fat)&lt;br /&gt;114 g sugars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dunkin' Donuts Reduced Fat Blueberry Muffin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;450 Calories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macaroni Grill Spaghetti &amp;amp; Meatballs with Tomato Basil Sauce&lt;br /&gt;1,500 Calories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coldstone Creamery Small Shakes (all)&lt;br /&gt;Min. 1,000 Calories&lt;br /&gt;Min 92 grams of sugar&lt;br /&gt;1.5 grams of transfat&lt;br /&gt;Large shakes have nearly double the calories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4482981105786502514?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4482981105786502514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4482981105786502514&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4482981105786502514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4482981105786502514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/worst-food-ever.html' title='Worst Food Ever'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6303494193965243238</id><published>2009-04-01T08:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:59:34.870-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>LegoLand</title><content type='html'>Eric is big-time into all things Lego. Since it's spring break, we decided to go visit LegoLand yesterday with the kids. Having a couple freebie kid passes made the trip less traumatic for me. I can't say I'd ever go back there (unless someone else was paying, lol), even though the Lego creations were really cool.   For the $40 it cost for all of us to get in there, our kids each got &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt; free white Lego brick with the entrance fee.  What a deal!  Well OK, we got to go on a dragon ride and see a short 4-D movie....plus go to the over-run play area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hard to please with my high standards.  I think for $19 per adult, we should get something more than a walk-through of some Lego creations.  I had hoped we could attend one of the workshops with a Lego master builder, but that was at 10:50 a.m. and that appeared to be it.   Guess I dropped the ball by not asking when we got there, seeing as there were no signs anywhere about it and the cashier didn't even hand us so much as a site map (maybe he dislikes coupon users who bring their own cameras.)   If I weren't trying to stop acronym cyber swearing, I'd be typing WTyouknowwhat, ya know?!  In this case, entrance fees do not in any way equate to the value of the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, Eric has switched career paths.  Gone are the dreams to be a carpenter.  He plans to be a master builder of Legos.  Sounds like a fun job, actually!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiA2mKgCI/AAAAAAAAAs0/VYx-nruaXUw/s1600-h/HippoWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiA2mKgCI/AAAAAAAAAs0/VYx-nruaXUw/s400/HippoWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492245417263138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hippo in the "jungle land" area&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiIVwXGRI/AAAAAAAAAtE/fQiAqhiQz1w/s1600-h/BatmanWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiIVwXGRI/AAAAAAAAAtE/fQiAqhiQz1w/s400/BatmanWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492374040615186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids with Batman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiUDrMQkI/AAAAAAAAAtc/IjzssgxtMqA/s1600-h/IndianaWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiUDrMQkI/AAAAAAAAAtc/IjzssgxtMqA/s400/IndianaWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492575345525314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Indiana Jones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiQJRlJiI/AAAAAAAAAtU/kwoFokeKGio/s1600-h/FactoryWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiQJRlJiI/AAAAAAAAAtU/kwoFokeKGio/s400/FactoryWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492508129240610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eric was randomly chosen to push a button in the pretend Lego "factory"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiM5aRPCI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Thg_27WdwRU/s1600-h/HaggartWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiM5aRPCI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Thg_27WdwRU/s400/HaggartWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492452331109410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hagrid&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKkyUSOdOI/AAAAAAAAAt0/3b0jC1R27SA/s1600-h/DarthVaderWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKkyUSOdOI/AAAAAAAAAt0/3b0jC1R27SA/s400/DarthVaderWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319495294223545570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anakin Skywalker gone bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiaQSOxjI/AAAAAAAAAts/xlDgpSDEjB8/s1600-h/YoungJediWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiaQSOxjI/AAAAAAAAAts/xlDgpSDEjB8/s400/YoungJediWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492681809708594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Young Jedi Warrior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiXjS7shI/AAAAAAAAAtk/OjFfA7SDrCU/s1600-h/R2D2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiXjS7shI/AAAAAAAAAtk/OjFfA7SDrCU/s400/R2D2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319492635373318674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One guess who feels at home in front of the camera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6303494193965243238?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6303494193965243238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6303494193965243238&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6303494193965243238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6303494193965243238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/legoland.html' title='LegoLand'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SdKiA2mKgCI/AAAAAAAAAs0/VYx-nruaXUw/s72-c/HippoWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4960152334781844636</id><published>2009-03-28T11:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T11:11:00.483-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><title type='text'>I Could Get Used To This</title><content type='html'>Back in February, I offered my unprofessional-serious-hobbist photography services to my niece for a baby shower gift (so she'd have something to put in the photo collage we got her.) It was so much fun to photograph a newborn! It was also a great learning experience as well, and if I were to do another one (I hope I get to!), I know what I'll do differently and where I can improve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, all I had was one backdrop, and the apartment wasn't "moved in" yet, so that limited where I could shoot photos (like who wants photos of their baby and them with half unpacked boxes in the background, ya know?)  But I was OK about the challenges, since it allowed me a chance to prove to myself that I could adjust to the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony was a mere 11 days old when I shot these photos, and I was reminded of how small and precious newborn babies are.  Tony was so perfectly sweet and constantly smiling as he slept, so I know the angels in Heaven must miss him, since they were playing with him so much! :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Don't judge the photos harshly; it's my first photo shoot of a child not my own!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc4piwUWI/AAAAAAAAAr8/Q5kcnK8D-sQ/s1600-h/PhotoJ-B%26W-Psalms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc4piwUWI/AAAAAAAAAr8/Q5kcnK8D-sQ/s400/PhotoJ-B%26W-Psalms.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657019567591778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is a  favorite verse of mine from the Bible, and I have it written in both of my children's baby albums along with their ultrasound photos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdJQIQESI/AAAAAAAAAsk/MVaRQk-LaEo/s1600-h/PhotoH-SoftFocusFIlter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdJQIQESI/AAAAAAAAAsk/MVaRQk-LaEo/s400/PhotoH-SoftFocusFIlter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657304803316002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc7bNBa2I/AAAAAAAAAsE/f5S98zMXE_U/s1600-h/PhotoK-B%26W.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc7bNBa2I/AAAAAAAAAsE/f5S98zMXE_U/s400/PhotoK-B%26W.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657067257949026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdESgWJnI/AAAAAAAAAsc/ELvh5JMIApw/s1600-h/PhotoX.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdESgWJnI/AAAAAAAAAsc/ELvh5JMIApw/s400/PhotoX.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657219541902962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdAyKcwTI/AAAAAAAAAsU/uCqaWI5G_us/s1600-h/PhotoS-B%26W-5x5crop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdAyKcwTI/AAAAAAAAAsU/uCqaWI5G_us/s400/PhotoS-B%26W-5x5crop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657159320518962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc9yHpMII/AAAAAAAAAsM/bZXqJla2-NU/s1600-h/PhotoNColor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc9yHpMII/AAAAAAAAAsM/bZXqJla2-NU/s400/PhotoNColor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657107769143426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdQL55oAI/AAAAAAAAAss/gA9vD9aTEc0/s1600-h/TonyB%26WHatWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScwdQL55oAI/AAAAAAAAAss/gA9vD9aTEc0/s400/TonyB%26WHatWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317657423928467458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc1ZQdqHI/AAAAAAAAAr0/LLW5eOXFx_o/s1600-h/PhotoC-SoftFocus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc1ZQdqHI/AAAAAAAAAr0/LLW5eOXFx_o/s400/PhotoC-SoftFocus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317656963656296562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4960152334781844636?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4960152334781844636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4960152334781844636&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4960152334781844636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4960152334781844636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-could-get-used-to-this.html' title='I Could Get Used To This'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Scwc4piwUWI/AAAAAAAAAr8/Q5kcnK8D-sQ/s72-c/PhotoJ-B%26W-Psalms.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8426544611999026865</id><published>2009-03-22T09:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T09:17:00.379-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><title type='text'>Honey Bun</title><content type='html'>Back in my senior year of high school I had a thing for Honey Buns.....those oval-shaped-cinnamon-donut-like-confections drowning in white icing.    I'd buy one in the morning for breakfast and was usually slumping from the sugar crash by the end of 2nd period.  While on one of my favorite recipe sites, I happened upon a recipe called Honey Bun Cake.   I had an opportunity to make it this past week, and although it doesn't taste &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; like a Honey Bun, it was a tasty cake anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Honey-Bun-Cake-I/Detail.aspx?prop31=1"&gt;Honey Bun Cake Recipe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only changes I made were to bake it for about 45-50 minutes in a Bundt pan, and I used a lot less glaze than it called for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScVNd375UvI/AAAAAAAAArE/UL6jrfjHj4k/s1600-h/HoneyBun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScVNd375UvI/AAAAAAAAArE/UL6jrfjHj4k/s320/HoneyBun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315740110807454450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8426544611999026865?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8426544611999026865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8426544611999026865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8426544611999026865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8426544611999026865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/honey-bun.html' title='Honey Bun'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ScVNd375UvI/AAAAAAAAArE/UL6jrfjHj4k/s72-c/HoneyBun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5112796888817268323</id><published>2009-03-19T14:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T14:20:48.915-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><title type='text'>Be Who You Are</title><content type='html'>A couple days ago during dinner we were talking about college.  Mike and I figure it's never too early to plant those seeds into our children's brains.  Eric has stated in the past that he wants to grow up and be a carpenter like his Dad.  Awwwww......I know, that is so sweet, and a testament to how much he looks up to his Dad.   But even Mike doesn't want him to grow up to be a carpenter; it's a hard life, and quite honestly, there won't be much left to build in 10-15 years when Eric's in the work force full time.  So knowing he has a "thing" for building and creating, I've planted those college seeds by whispering "Beeee an engineeeeeeer".  Or something along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we were having dinner the other night where the"college" conversation was going on.  Mike and I were saying to the kids that once you decide what you want to be, you go to college to learn how to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;be&lt;/span&gt; it.    Quick as you please, Eric stated, "I just want to be my own person and not study for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike and I were stunned into silence.  How do you come back from that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5112796888817268323?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5112796888817268323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5112796888817268323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5112796888817268323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5112796888817268323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/be-who-you-are.html' title='Be Who You Are'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3672902733444010340</id><published>2009-03-16T11:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T12:07:57.375-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><title type='text'>Chocolate Trifle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sb6FNsWwkII/AAAAAAAAAq8/wfSY5gMVjNE/s1600-h/Trifle2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 175px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sb6FNsWwkII/AAAAAAAAAq8/wfSY5gMVjNE/s320/Trifle2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313831080635175042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a dozen years ago I found a recipe that I really wanted to try out.  I didn't have the right bowl in which to prepare it, so I drove to Service Merchandise on my lunch hour and bought a trifle dish.  I've made it several times over the years, and I've gotta say, with a bit of sadness, that I've never come home with leftovers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 package (18.25 oz) chocolate cake mix&lt;br /&gt;1 package (6 oz) instant chocolate pudding mix&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup strong coffee&lt;br /&gt;1 (8 oz) carton frozen whipped topping, thawed&lt;br /&gt;6 Heath bars (1.4 oz each), crushed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bake cake according to package directions.  Cool.  Prepare pudding according to package directions; set aside (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I recommend you use half &amp;amp; half or whole milk to make it richer&lt;/span&gt;.)  Crumble up the cake; reserve 1/3 cup.  Place half of the remaining cake crumbs in the bottom of a 5 qt trifle dish or decorative glass bowl (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;if using a smaller dish, use smaller portions for each layer&lt;/span&gt;).  Layer with half of the coffee, half of the pudding, half of the whipped topping, and half of the crushed candy bars.  Repeat layers of cake, coffee, pudding and whipped topping.  Combine remaining crushed candy bars with reserved cake crumbs; sprinkle over the top.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Refrigerate 4-5 hours before serving&lt;/span&gt;.  Serves 10-12.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sb6FInST9gI/AAAAAAAAAq0/YsyTtKdOJL0/s1600-h/Trifle1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sb6FInST9gI/AAAAAAAAAq0/YsyTtKdOJL0/s320/Trifle1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313830993375000066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3672902733444010340?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3672902733444010340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3672902733444010340&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3672902733444010340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3672902733444010340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/chocolate-trifle.html' title='Chocolate Trifle'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Sb6FNsWwkII/AAAAAAAAAq8/wfSY5gMVjNE/s72-c/Trifle2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1786500130544592906</id><published>2009-03-12T08:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T08:53:00.438-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>Tsunamis</title><content type='html'>Eric is into reading books about natural disasters.  It's almost alarming how he rattles off the death tolls and gazes at the photos of destruction and exclaims, "WHOA!  Look at that !  Oh my gosh, SIXTY THOUSAND people &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dead&lt;/span&gt;!"   Where's the compassion?    Are all 8 year old boys like this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today he's reading a book called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;World's Wost Tsunamis&lt;/span&gt;.    The world's worst is a rather recent one from December 2004 in Thailand.  I explained that he was not quite 4 years old and how I remember that awful natural disaster. Eric went on to read about the Lisbon, Portugal tsunami, and he asked me a question about it:   "So Mom, were you around in 1755 for this tsunami too?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51ro7HMvxtL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 204px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51ro7HMvxtL.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1786500130544592906?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1786500130544592906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1786500130544592906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1786500130544592906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1786500130544592906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tsunamis.html' title='Tsunamis'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6778837267845773975</id><published>2009-03-10T14:51:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T15:41:54.627-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats'/><title type='text'>In My Spare Time</title><content type='html'>For several years I've volunteered at a local no-kill animal shelter.  I love all the animals, but my passion is cats.  Shortly after I started to volunteer at the shelter, I fell in love with the often forgotten "FIV Cats".  These are cats who, in general, live a normal life, but who unfortunately have contracted the feline version of HIV.  FIV is not contagious to anyone else except cats, and most likely all these cats got it from being "outside" cats.  They need daily meds, but other than that are, like I said, normal cats.    The shelter where I volunteer offers FIV cats as "permanent foster" (meaning you are the "pet owner", but they pay for and provide the meds.)  I haven't been into the shelter in a couple of months, but was happy to have a reason to stop in there yesterday to take some photos of a few of the newer FIV kitties, as well as spend some time socializing and petting the gang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Niko, a beautiful, friendly long-haired kitty.  Unfortunately he gets picked on by the other cats, perhaps due to his gentle nature.  He was found surrounded by a pack of dogs, but calm as could be.  A kind stranger heard the barking and rescued Niko.  He was extremely matted, dirty, and had a cold so he was probably lost for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFOCOZwEI/AAAAAAAAAqc/87riqqSwS3g/s1600-h/Niko2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFOCOZwEI/AAAAAAAAAqc/87riqqSwS3g/s400/Niko2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311649655436197954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, this guy isn't new, but he's just special to me.  One of the side effects of volunteering at an animal shelter is you have your favorites, one or two that just melt your heart.  Tiny Tommy (I just call him Tommy) is "my" cat.  Isn't he magnificent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFKuagL3I/AAAAAAAAAqU/GBs-XX5B910/s1600-h/Tommy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFKuagL3I/AAAAAAAAAqU/GBs-XX5B910/s400/Tommy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311649598578634610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This big boy with the chipmunk cheeks is Frat.  He's a total love bug, friendly and would do well in a home with lottsa love and attention!  I can't even imagine what cruel person would "dump" (illegally leave in some manner on the shelter property) this cat on a frigid night.  He nearly froze to death before he was found confined in his cat carrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFFxuFAPI/AAAAAAAAAqM/kukxh-g0GHQ/s1600-h/Frat2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFFxuFAPI/AAAAAAAAAqM/kukxh-g0GHQ/s400/Frat2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311649513566699762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that Frat is a polydactyl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFBOLDQGI/AAAAAAAAAqE/-rxduOyc6tg/s1600-h/FratFoot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFBOLDQGI/AAAAAAAAAqE/-rxduOyc6tg/s400/FratFoot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311649435305066594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cottonball has been around for a while, but what a camera hog!  And the camera loves him too!  Cottonball was found as a stray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbE9WW_-CI/AAAAAAAAAp8/Al5mlzjR8kQ/s1600-h/Cottonball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbE9WW_-CI/AAAAAAAAAp8/Al5mlzjR8kQ/s400/Cottonball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311649368783190050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Campanelle is another lover boy.  Soooo friendly, and a total lap cat hiding in a big tom's body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbE6zQw7gI/AAAAAAAAAp0/U74kspZNMRU/s1600-h/Campanelle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbE6zQw7gI/AAAAAAAAAp0/U74kspZNMRU/s400/Campanelle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311649325002059266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the most I've ever seen of Big Smokey.  And I used the zoom lens at that.  He's not too keen on people; not sure why, don't know his story, but he was humanely trapped as a stray by a good samaritan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbHzgQiyyI/AAAAAAAAAqk/2m7guxkYVJM/s1600-h/Smokey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbHzgQiyyI/AAAAAAAAAqk/2m7guxkYVJM/s400/Smokey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311652498176658210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the newer FIV cats, Santa.  I'm betting he arrived in late December.  I don't know what his story is, but he's missing his left ear.  Super friendly cat, though, and would quietly wait for me to come pay him some attention!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbMyMmXNnI/AAAAAAAAAqs/fF2yXCrmFNI/s1600-h/Santa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbMyMmXNnI/AAAAAAAAAqs/fF2yXCrmFNI/s400/Santa1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311657973277734514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6778837267845773975?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6778837267845773975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6778837267845773975&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6778837267845773975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6778837267845773975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-my-spare-time.html' title='In My Spare Time'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbbFOCOZwEI/AAAAAAAAAqc/87riqqSwS3g/s72-c/Niko2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3112890014359335183</id><published>2009-03-05T13:44:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T14:14:36.829-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Another Casualty of Facebook</title><content type='html'>Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte received some Webkinz for her birthday and Christmas.  She has four cats, and we were finally getting around to officially adopting the last one.  She initially wanted the name Violet, but the Webkinz site finds that name offensive in some way (even Violette.....vile, violent.....not sure how to stretch to get to the offensive word, whatever it is.)    Anyway, belatedly Charlotte adopted her last cat after renaming it Rosie.   As we got everything set up and got to her rooms to visit with the other three cats, Charlotte's excited little face fell to a sad frown as she realized that her cats were unhappy and starving to death.   She hasn't been online much lately to play with and feed them.   I hung my head in shame as I realized that Mommy's Facebooking has nearly killed her Webkinz cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Charlotte always lines up her Webkinz animals so they can visit their virtual selves online.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbAvzDrjBpI/AAAAAAAAAps/0sUXj5na6n4/s1600-h/Webkinz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbAvzDrjBpI/AAAAAAAAAps/0sUXj5na6n4/s400/Webkinz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309796514877605522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3112890014359335183?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3112890014359335183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3112890014359335183&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3112890014359335183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3112890014359335183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/how-to-kill-stuffed-animals.html' title='Another Casualty of Facebook'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SbAvzDrjBpI/AAAAAAAAAps/0sUXj5na6n4/s72-c/Webkinz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2896515693695516819</id><published>2009-03-03T14:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T14:30:02.302-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Snail Mail</title><content type='html'>In the continuing series, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Love...Part III&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-lovepuffy-clouds.html"&gt;Part I&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-lovepart-ii-in-i-love-series.html"&gt;Part II&lt;/a&gt;), I want to dwell for a moment on "snail mail".  One of my favorite things to receive is a letter or package in the mail.  What got me thinking about this again is a package I received on Saturday from a friend of mine.  She had read below about me being unable to locate a certain candy that I love to snack on, and she found it by her and dropped a whole bag of it in the mail for me.  Imagine my surprise to not only receive the candy, but to know she had been thinking about me!  We all receive plenty of bills, junk mail, magazines, and advertisements.  But how often do you receive an honest-to-goodness letter or package in the mail? Email letters from friends are nice to receive and certainly convenient, but I can't hold it in my hands as I walk up the driveway from the mailbox, feeling how many sheets of paper might be inside, or if a photo is contained therein.  There's just something about the whole surprise of seeing personal mail sitting in amongst the junk and bills that instantly brightens my day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just 20 years ago there was no internet, no email for the masses.  I used to be a decent letter writer "back in the day" and had an assortment of stationary (I still have the remnants of some in the original boxes.  They're probably considered relics these days.)   At one point in my past, I was located on the east coast and my best friend was on the west coast.  We kept our friendship renewed by writing letters, buying stamps, and going to the mailbox.  We didn't have money for long distance phone calls, but we could swing the cost of a stamp once or twice a month.  We carried on long-distance debates, the latest on our families, the trials we were facing, and the joys we felt.  So it's no wonder to me that when I receive something personal in the mail, it instantly brings back good feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also kept in touch with a pen-pal I was paired up with back in 7th grade.  We've managed to stay in touch all these years.....boyfriends, graduation, college, marriages, careers, children, etc.  However, she refuses to get on board with email.  At first I was annoyed, because a stamp to Finland is about $1 and an email is free.  But I tell ya, whenever I see one of her envelopes in the mailbox.....with her familiar hand writing....I'm thrilled, wondering what news she has to share with me.   In a way, I'm glad she's content to keep writing "snail mail" letters.  For sure, emails are quick and efficient and I admit I'm guilty of overusing it, but it will never take the place of a hand written note.   That's probably why I hang on to them and even have notes from friends that were passed back and forth in the halls of high school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2896515693695516819?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2896515693695516819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2896515693695516819&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2896515693695516819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2896515693695516819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/snail-mail.html' title='Snail Mail'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5440069223754308496</id><published>2009-03-01T11:56:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T12:09:22.247-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Everything's Amazing and Nobody's Happy</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine shared this on Facebook, and since at the moment I'm all dried up on ideas to blog about, I'm going to post this short video clip.  It's so funny, probably because there's a lot of truth to it! (Just remember to first hit the pause/stop button on the "radio").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jETv3NURwLc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jETv3NURwLc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5440069223754308496?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5440069223754308496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5440069223754308496&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5440069223754308496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5440069223754308496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/03/everythings-amazing-and-nobodys-happy.html' title='Everything&apos;s Amazing and Nobody&apos;s Happy'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1885064244631965693</id><published>2009-02-25T18:28:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T19:35:53.868-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>'Lil Peeps</title><content type='html'>I had to run over to Walgreens this morning for some packaging tape.  I'm getting back into selling stuff on ebay, and one item needed to ship today.   On the way to the "office supplies" aisle, we passed by the Easter candy aisle.  Since Charlotte was with me, there was no way we were walking out of that store without a trip down the Seasonal Aisle.  I secretly didn't mind because I was looking for these special jelly beans that are coated in Nerd candy.  Truth be told, I don't like jelly beans, but these are different.  Last year after I "discovered" them, I ate two bags all by myself.  They're soooooo good.   I was seriously disappointed that they didn't have my nerd jelly beans this year; however, they did have Peeps.  Charlotte loves Peeps, and was nearly drooling over the selection of shapes and colors from which to choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;:  What do you like about Peeps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charlotte:&lt;/span&gt;  The mush mellow, the pink of it all, the sugar.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;EVERYTHING&lt;/span&gt;!  And the chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me (perplexed):&lt;/span&gt;  There's no chocolate on Peeps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charlotte (hear the eye roll in her response):&lt;/span&gt;   The &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;eyes&lt;/span&gt; are chocolate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So beware of the Peeps if you're taking a sugar-crazed child into the store.  They're out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SaXjYy3LKHI/AAAAAAAAApk/54f-l1ky2ak/s1600-h/Peeps1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SaXjYy3LKHI/AAAAAAAAApk/54f-l1ky2ak/s400/Peeps1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306897751035553906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1885064244631965693?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1885064244631965693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1885064244631965693&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1885064244631965693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1885064244631965693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/lil-peeps.html' title='&apos;Lil Peeps'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SaXjYy3LKHI/AAAAAAAAApk/54f-l1ky2ak/s72-c/Peeps1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-7858268888067974872</id><published>2009-02-20T10:55:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T11:42:10.066-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><title type='text'>What Defines Your World?</title><content type='html'>There's a photo contest going on locally, and the photo submitted needs to define your world as interpreted by the photographer.  I'm not really sure why I wanted to enter the contest; certainly it's not the "grand prize" of $25.......maybe I just wanted a reason to challenge myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So, what defines your world?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to think about that for only a moment.  It wasn't too difficult to decide that my faith and family are what define my world.   However, getting my family together for a photo that would actually look good was a challenge I was not up for this week, plus it also seemed a bit cliche to turn in a photo of loved ones for a contest entitled "define your world".  Maybe that's just me, but I decided to step away from that idea.  I then came up with a couple of ideas for my faith, but didn't care for how it translated to a photograph, so back to the "drawing board" I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, the photo below is what I turned in.   If I had to name it, I suppose I'd call it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plans Happily Deferred&lt;/span&gt;. That defines my world too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZ7io9eoz7I/AAAAAAAAApc/CUOoi_LnXU8/s1600-h/Books5Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZ7io9eoz7I/AAAAAAAAApc/CUOoi_LnXU8/s400/Books5Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304926604414734258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-7858268888067974872?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/7858268888067974872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=7858268888067974872&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7858268888067974872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7858268888067974872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-defines-your-world.html' title='What Defines Your World?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZ7io9eoz7I/AAAAAAAAApc/CUOoi_LnXU8/s72-c/Books5Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6640840502957339864</id><published>2009-02-17T13:18:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T13:32:42.199-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><title type='text'>Party Envy</title><content type='html'>When Mike and I made the decision for me to become a stay at home mom, it wasn't without some reservations.  We were giving up a huge income that we had &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sort of&lt;/span&gt; come to rely on.   So like a young bird taking flight out of the nest for the first time, I jumped into the world of Stay-At-Home Momness. Five years have gone by since that decision.  It hasn't always been easy, but every time I crave a bigger house, I remind myself that we could have one, but I wouldn't get to spend much time in it.  When I long for frequent vacations, I tell myself I'd need them to recoup from the hectic schedule of the "working" mom (I use "" because all moms work, but I'm referring to a mom who's holding down a full-time job outside of the house on top of all her other responsibilities.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I've tried to come to terms with are my kid's birthday parties. My kids have been invited to parties at these places where you show up and they do all the work.  Kids play and have fun, do cool things, food is brought in,  and the mess is cleaned up for you.  What's not to love?  My kids would love to have one like it of their own, and I'd love to indulge them......maybe even indulge myself - like I'll be the coolest Mom ever if only I could provide an equally cool birthday party.  So it's somewhat with a reluctant heart that I've come to accept that spending $300 on a party for one child is not the best way to responsibly steward our money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month was Eric's birthday and he wanted to invite a few of his friends over for a ["on-a-budget-but-fun-anyway"] Star Wars birthday party.  This isn't exactly an easy thing to plan for the winter, because any outdoor activity can't be done since it's usually 12 degrees outside.     I did some research and came up with a few ideas I thought we could pull off in our living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to score a brand new Star Wars movie off ebay for a fraction of retail.  The kids played Mario Kart and snacked on popcorn,  then we started the movie while they ate their dinner of cheeseburgers.  Before they had a chance to get antsy watching the movie, I paused it to call all the young Jedis around me.  I demonstrated their task:  Using Eric's light saber that he made at Disney, they had to keep a balloon up in the air.  If they could beat the clock, then I added a second balloon.    While they each took a turn (one at a time to prevent them killing each other), I played the Star Wars soundtrack that I checked out from the library.  They enjoyed the challenge before going  back to the movie.  A little while later, we paused the movie again, so that we could play another game:  This time we released &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Force&lt;/span&gt; (6 balloons) and all the balloons had to be kept off the ground.  We were laughing so hard while diving for the balloons (Mike and I were right in there with them!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids ate some ice cream and home-made cupcakes before returning to the movie.   Mike couldn't help himself though.....he's such a kid at heart!  He started "the light saber wars", using the flexible orange Hot Wheels track for the light saber.  I think it was the boys favorite part of the evening!  The three hours flew by, and before I knew it, their parents were here to pick them up.  With all the games, only half of the movie was watched, but since they'd all seen it, it wasn't a bad thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each boy went home with a little goodie bag of miniature Milky Ways, Starburst, a large bubble wand I found for a buck that looks like a light saber, plus a personalized Star Wars bookmark (this was supposed to be a craft for them to do, but they were having too much fun playing the games, so I put them together really quick and stuck them into their take-home bags.)   I even threw in a Star Wars word search that I made on some educational website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I tucked Eric into bed that night, I asked him how he liked his party, thinking that maybe he thought it was lame.  He turned to me with the most genuine smile on his face and declared it was "the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;best&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;party ever&lt;/span&gt;, Mom!  I want one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just like it&lt;/span&gt; next year!"  It was awesome to hear that the best party ever could be had right at home without spending a lot of money.  Maybe one day we'll be able to treat our kids to something more elaborate, but at least for now it's nice that they're content with the tradition of a simple at-home party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6640840502957339864?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6640840502957339864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6640840502957339864&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6640840502957339864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6640840502957339864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/party-envy.html' title='Party Envy'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8886418650747154734</id><published>2009-02-14T09:34:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T09:47:05.616-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Hallmark Can't Beat This</title><content type='html'>When it comes to words of love, I don't think anything a Hallmark writer will ever put to paper can top what Paul wrote nearly 2,000 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love is patient,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love is kind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It does not envy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It does not boast,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is not proud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is not rude,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is not self-seeking,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is not easily angered,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It keeps no record of wrongs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love does not delight in evil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But rejoices with the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It always protects,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Always trusts,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Always hopes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Always perseveres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love never fails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~  1 Corinthians 13:4-8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8886418650747154734?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8886418650747154734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8886418650747154734&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8886418650747154734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8886418650747154734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/hallmark-cant-beat-this.html' title='Hallmark Can&apos;t Beat This'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3724144770570373404</id><published>2009-02-11T10:00:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T10:18:00.160-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><title type='text'>By The Light Of The Moon</title><content type='html'>I've been wanting to take some full moon photos for several months, but it's been either overcast and you can't see the moon, the full moon happens on a night when we're not at home, or it's been sub-zero, and I'm afraid to take my camera outside for fear it's insides will freeze or condensation will form after going back into the house.  Either that, I just plain forget and miss the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this week there was a full moon combined with mild temperatures, so I was able to take a few shots.    Here's a "Right From The Camera" shot (although I did crop it since I only have a 300mm zoom):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL3UThAOoI/AAAAAAAAAo8/5Ci51gQhb-w/s1600-h/MoonROCWeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL3UThAOoI/AAAAAAAAAo8/5Ci51gQhb-w/s400/MoonROCWeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301571639576640130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm forever playing around with photos in Photoshop, partly to learn the program and also to make my photos look a little better.   So here are a few moon shots that I took liberties with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL4COWM1PI/AAAAAAAAApE/VjjGmn8P5z0/s1600-h/Moon2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL4COWM1PI/AAAAAAAAApE/VjjGmn8P5z0/s400/Moon2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301572428463133938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL4Iv3cTbI/AAAAAAAAApM/t46ryWma9Cg/s1600-h/Moon3Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL4Iv3cTbI/AAAAAAAAApM/t46ryWma9Cg/s400/Moon3Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301572540540145074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I think this is my favorite.  The changes make the moon look like a marble in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL4NU-WxnI/AAAAAAAAApU/rKJGCBH09o4/s1600-h/Moon1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL4NU-WxnI/AAAAAAAAApU/rKJGCBH09o4/s400/Moon1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301572619220731506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3724144770570373404?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3724144770570373404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3724144770570373404&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3724144770570373404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3724144770570373404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/by-light-of-moon.html' title='By The Light Of The Moon'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SZL3UThAOoI/AAAAAAAAAo8/5Ci51gQhb-w/s72-c/MoonROCWeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-7727023897289789863</id><published>2009-02-10T12:03:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T12:06:56.079-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>How To Pray For My Husband</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was sent to me over the summer, and I found it in my drafts.   Thought I'd finally share!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How To Pray For My Husband&lt;br /&gt;Head To Toe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;His Head&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; –That he will look to You as Lord of his life. (1 Corinthians 11:13)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Mind&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - That he will have the mind of Christ and think as the Holy Spirit would lead him and not the flesh. (1 Corinthians 2:16)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; –That You will keep his eyes from temptation and that he will turn his eyes from sin. (Matthew 6:13, Mark 9:47)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Ears&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - That he will hear Your still small voice instructing him. (1 Kings 19:12, Psalm 32:8)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Mouth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; – That his words will be pleasing to You. (Proverbs 19:14)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Neck&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; –That he will humble himself before You and be strong, courageous, and careful to do everything written in Your Word so that he will be prosperous and successful. (James 4:10, Joshua 1:8-9)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-That he will love and trust You with his whole heart. (Deuteronomy 6;5, Proverbs 3:5)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Arms&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-That You will be his strength. (Psalm 73:26)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His Hands&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-That he will enjoy the work of his hands and see it as a gift from You. (Ecclesiastes 3:13, 5:19)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His feet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; – That You will order his steps and that he will walk in Your truth. (Proverbs 4:25, Psalm 26:3)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-7727023897289789863?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/7727023897289789863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=7727023897289789863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7727023897289789863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/7727023897289789863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-to-pray-for-my-husband.html' title='How To Pray For My Husband'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2688261687427361314</id><published>2009-02-05T17:53:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:38:32.579-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><title type='text'>The Dreaded School Projects</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate school projects that Eric brings home.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;  It's not that I resent being involved in my child's education.  Quite the contrary, I'm very involved.  I volunteer in his classroom, show up for parent-teacher conferences, occasionally e-mail his teacher, and I’m on him Every Single Day to do his homework.    I care about how he does and want to see him succeed.  I think he views me as his tormentor because of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Every day I make sure Eric completes his homework (which is no less than spelling and 20 minutes of reading, plus anything else that may come home); but what is most trying on the nerves is...... "homework drama".&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is when my child falls onto the floor whining or stomps off to his room declaring that he just doesn’t want to do one more minute of school work.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And who can blame him?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He’s a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;second grader&lt;/span&gt; who has just spent nearly 7 hours at school and didn’t get a recess because it’s too cold (or wet or icy or snowing or raining) outside, and our brilliant school does not open up the gym to let these youngsters burn off pent up energy but instead has them play board games in their classroom, then sends them home to do more work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So about 2 weeks ago Eric brought home a project assignment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Here’s an excerpt from the take-home page:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“We would like each &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;student &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[yeah, right]&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;construct a dinosaur&lt;/span&gt; for the [&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;display&lt;/span&gt;] case.  Materials you can use:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;empty cans, cartons, containers, paper towel rolls, paint, markers, etc.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The dinosaur should be able to stand alone.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I would welcome these projects if I didn't already have a daily homework battle going on with my kid. These projects are like pouring salt on a festering wound. If I were an uninvolved parent I could be scoring some serious points with my kid by anteing up for the project, but since I'm already in his face about getting his homework done, these projects just add to our misery.  I guess I'm one of those parents who think that daily homework for first and second graders is just not right.  Add third grade to that as well.  I suppose saying that makes me unpopular but so be it.  It's the way I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So back to the Dinosaur Project. Here's my observation about that: I just don’t have a child who can take a pile of crap and make a dinosaur out of it. No way.   Since I know this truth about Eric, this led me to employ that old parental strategy of "picking my battles."  Doing his reading and spelling will net him decent grades and get him promoted to third grade.  This dinosaur will not hold him back one way or the other.   Instead, I opted to borrow someone else's idea from a craft site and then let Eric choose between the options I found.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt; So Mom found the idea, Eric whined while cutting out the teeth and mouth, and Dad spray painted it.   We all did the project together without killing each other.  WooHoo!  That's the goal in our house, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt; ~ Behold ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A Milk Jug T-Rex&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYoWogCQPKI/AAAAAAAAAo0/09J2fuouGtY/s1600-h/Dinosaur2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYoWogCQPKI/AAAAAAAAAo0/09J2fuouGtY/s400/Dinosaur2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299072796604775586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2688261687427361314?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2688261687427361314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2688261687427361314&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2688261687427361314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2688261687427361314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/dreaded-school-projects.html' title='The Dreaded School Projects'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYoWogCQPKI/AAAAAAAAAo0/09J2fuouGtY/s72-c/Dinosaur2Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3082413336935803487</id><published>2009-02-03T01:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T01:36:06.609-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Eric!</title><content type='html'>At 1:36 a.m. on February 3, 2001, Eric came into the world feet first (because he was ready to hit the ground running!), weighing in at 5 lbs. 3 oz. and 17 1/2" long.  He was such a little peanut!   How could I possibly know how much my life would change in that one instant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aprox. 2 weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbbYl3FTI/AAAAAAAAAn0/u6ckUttaIkU/s1600-h/EricNewborn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbbYl3FTI/AAAAAAAAAn0/u6ckUttaIkU/s320/EricNewborn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297952168919635250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Eric was such a happy, smiley baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYYNE9O5BI/AAAAAAAAAmU/3p3PbbMY1A8/s1600-h/First+Tooth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYYNE9O5BI/AAAAAAAAAmU/3p3PbbMY1A8/s320/First+Tooth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297948624595903506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYZZ_n8lqI/AAAAAAAAAm0/ev0qg4vdGkM/s1600-h/Limit1ToTub.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYZZ_n8lqI/AAAAAAAAAm0/ev0qg4vdGkM/s320/Limit1ToTub.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297949946014373538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;1 Year Old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYZjjBzMWI/AAAAAAAAAm8/IF2sHnSKvy0/s1600-h/CakeinFace4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYZjjBzMWI/AAAAAAAAAm8/IF2sHnSKvy0/s320/CakeinFace4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297950110136873314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The tupperware cabinet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYZ47Ldg8I/AAAAAAAAAnE/JTyDdH6OjVE/s1600-h/Tupperware2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYZ47Ldg8I/AAAAAAAAAnE/JTyDdH6OjVE/s320/Tupperware2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297950477397099458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Can't leave him alone for a minute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYYeOu9H-I/AAAAAAAAAmc/U8FNuoVsdiw/s1600-h/P1010071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYYeOu9H-I/AAAAAAAAAmc/U8FNuoVsdiw/s320/P1010071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297948919278149602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYYmu6PAxI/AAAAAAAAAmk/VtyNMsivv1c/s1600-h/Tigger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYYmu6PAxI/AAAAAAAAAmk/VtyNMsivv1c/s320/Tigger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297949065354347282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2 Year Portrait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbWwrak_I/AAAAAAAAAns/mMJZyte57zE/s1600-h/2Portrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbWwrak_I/AAAAAAAAAns/mMJZyte57zE/s320/2Portrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297952089486038002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Autumn leaves me happy!&lt;br /&gt;3 1/2 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYY4VTj-3I/AAAAAAAAAms/AQ6naFn4TvQ/s1600-h/EricSmilePile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYY4VTj-3I/AAAAAAAAAms/AQ6naFn4TvQ/s320/EricSmilePile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297949367718902642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Why a camera needs to be handy at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/floodcliff/Photos/Naked2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 594px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/floodcliff/Photos/Naked2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYazCokcDI/AAAAAAAAAnM/A0YmKCjy6Dw/s1600-h/P1050764.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYazCokcDI/AAAAAAAAAnM/A0YmKCjy6Dw/s320/P1050764.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297951475830648882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What else are little boys supposed to look like after helping to make their birthday cake?  4 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYa575_56I/AAAAAAAAAnU/eoDF8qdPYIM/s1600-h/P2030867.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYa575_56I/AAAAAAAAAnU/eoDF8qdPYIM/s320/P2030867.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297951594283788194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 1/2 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbHpwqhzI/AAAAAAAAAnc/57Xa8pvzG74/s1600-h/EricHariCut1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbHpwqhzI/AAAAAAAAAnc/57Xa8pvzG74/s320/EricHariCut1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297951829930968882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Joseph" in his preschool Christmas Play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbRb0gXiI/AAAAAAAAAnk/9SsB9fCUv5Y/s1600-h/JosephFrame.BMP"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbRb0gXiI/AAAAAAAAAnk/9SsB9fCUv5Y/s320/JosephFrame.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297951997987675682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Year Portrait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbnvWXMKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/y0lHKajGf9o/s1600-h/EricCUProf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbnvWXMKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/y0lHKajGf9o/s320/EricCUProf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297952381187076258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Preschool Graduation Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYcO7ZykjI/AAAAAAAAAoE/7aye6Vu-FB8/s1600-h/PreschoolGrad1.jpg.BMP"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYcO7ZykjI/AAAAAAAAAoE/7aye6Vu-FB8/s320/PreschoolGrad1.jpg.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297953054437577266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYhylj_mjI/AAAAAAAAAos/qYyZl5eKlPI/s1600-h/DSC_1498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYhylj_mjI/AAAAAAAAAos/qYyZl5eKlPI/s320/DSC_1498.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297959164608223794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;6 1/2 Years Old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYdJy6Hf9I/AAAAAAAAAoM/tGPuv57Cw-8/s1600-h/DSC_4129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYdJy6Hf9I/AAAAAAAAAoM/tGPuv57Cw-8/s320/DSC_4129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297954065769529298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;7 Years Old - Bowling Birthday Party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYdjXDu2vI/AAAAAAAAAoU/ub9zujM1DpY/s1600-h/Eric1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYdjXDu2vI/AAAAAAAAAoU/ub9zujM1DpY/s320/Eric1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297954504970263282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mother's Day 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/floodcliff/EricMothersDay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 375px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/floodcliff/EricMothersDay.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Summer 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYeD_S13lI/AAAAAAAAAoc/Fr8JmA62D7U/s1600-h/1b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYeD_S13lI/AAAAAAAAAoc/Fr8JmA62D7U/s320/1b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297955065526869586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Almost 8 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYe7A6p9DI/AAAAAAAAAok/IJ85XHfcfvo/s1600-h/Eric1BW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYe7A6p9DI/AAAAAAAAAok/IJ85XHfcfvo/s320/Eric1BW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297956010855101490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3082413336935803487?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3082413336935803487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3082413336935803487&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3082413336935803487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3082413336935803487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-eric.html' title='Happy Birthday Eric!'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYYbbYl3FTI/AAAAAAAAAn0/u6ckUttaIkU/s72-c/EricNewborn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8115160660037034119</id><published>2009-02-01T10:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T10:06:00.911-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><title type='text'>This Mint Brownie Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYMojOBAE2I/AAAAAAAAAmM/12QAbnUJFLM/s1600-h/MintBrownie4Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYMojOBAE2I/AAAAAAAAAmM/12QAbnUJFLM/s320/MintBrownie4Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297122172240663394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always love when a new recipe turns out really tasty.  I love it even better when I fly by the seat of my pants, improvise, and combine multiple recipes to create one new one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; it turns out good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And where else would I share such information, but here on my blog!  Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mint Brownie Dessert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 box Pillsbury Fudge Brownie Mix &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(any brand fudge brownie mix would be fine; this just happens to be the one I used.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eggs, water and oil for the brownie mix per instructions&lt;br /&gt;2 cups confectioners sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 stick butter, softened&lt;br /&gt;2 drops green food coloring&lt;br /&gt;1 tbl milk&lt;br /&gt;peppermint extract&lt;br /&gt;6 oz chocolate chips&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup whipping cream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bake brownie according to package directions in a 9x13 pan.  Let cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beat butter, food coloring, 1 tbl milk, extract (see note) and confectioners sugar in bowl till smooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Note on peppermint extract: I added in 1-1/8 tsp, but mine is not exactly, uh, fresh from the store, if you know what I mean, so depending on the age of your extract, you might want to start with a 1/2 tsp and go from there. You don't want it to taste like toothpaste, so go easy with it.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After mixing the peppermint frosting, spread over the cooled brownie.  Next, place whipping cream in a saucepan with the chocolate chips, and melt over med-low heat, stirring constantly just till the chips are all melted and mixture is smooth.  Allow to cool, stirring every once in a while (I sped up the process by putting it into the fridge.)  Once it's cooled, spread it over the top of the green frosting and allow to set (again, I sped up the process by placing in the fridge.  However, you'll need to pull it out of the fridge before serving so it's not cold.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you're trying to throw this together with what you have on hand and don't have whipping cream in the fridge and don't want to run to the store, you can opt to melt the chips in the microwave with a tbl of butter or shortening until all melted and smooth (about 1-1/2 minutes).  Allow to cool a bit, then spread that on top of the peppermint frosting.  However, this will harden more like a candy bar and will not be creamy like the picture shows.  Either way, it'll taste good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's always the possibility that no one will care for these if you make them; however, I didn't experience that problem and this is what was left to bring home.  :-)   But that's OK.  I love it when folks enjoy my experimentations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYMocs3j_3I/AAAAAAAAAl8/L5wva7MtR-M/s1600-h/MintBrownie2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYMocs3j_3I/AAAAAAAAAl8/L5wva7MtR-M/s320/MintBrownie2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297122060263489394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8115160660037034119?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8115160660037034119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8115160660037034119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8115160660037034119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8115160660037034119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-mint-brownie-thing.html' title='This Mint Brownie Thing'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SYMojOBAE2I/AAAAAAAAAmM/12QAbnUJFLM/s72-c/MintBrownie4Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1402793551313786118</id><published>2009-01-29T09:45:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T10:00:09.868-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Why I Couldn't Vote for Obama</title><content type='html'>There are a number of reasons I didn't vote for Obama, but one reason I'm going to address in this blog post is that  I believe in the rights of unborn babies.  I believe they have a right to be born once they have been conceived, and that baby's right to life supersedes any other rights .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've all heard of the Freedom of Choice Act (FOCA).    While campaigning, Obama said one of the first things he'd do if elected was sign FOCA.   I'm guessing a good many people don't even completely know what FOCA entails.   Unless you're hard core pro-choice, I can't believe anyone would think FOCA is a good idea.  Here are a few tidbits:&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1.  It's currently illegal to obtain a partial birth abortion, which is when a doctor delivers the baby, usually during the second trimester, only to end it's life (I'll leave out the gruesome details of how this is done. You can find a lot of information on Wikipedia if you need more information.)  If FOCA is passed, it is almost assured that partial birth abortions will be made legal again.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I question why, even if the mother's life is endangered,  the baby's life needs to be ended in this vile, brutal way.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2.  As of right now almost all states have laws that limit what a minor can do without consent or knowledge from the parents or guardians. If passed, minors (i.e., your daughter, your niece, your granddaughter, etc.) will be able to obtain prescription birth control, as well as have an abortion &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;without &lt;/span&gt;parental consent or knowledge.    And the bonus is that this makes it easy for some young girls to be taken advantage of by adults, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3.  There are government restrictions on funding for abortions. If passed, FOCA would require the government to provide funding for abortions.    As someone who is pro-life, it troubles me deeply to think of tax dollars from my home going to pay for the sole purpose of  funding abortions.  If Planned Parenthood and all the pro-choice folks out there want this "right", then they should fund it from their own coffers and not expect to burden the American people even more than they already are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;4.  There would be no more wait periods for abortions. In many states a woman must wait 24-72 hours before having an abortion so  she can reflect on the information presented to her at the consultation and presumably give it some consideration before making the final decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;5.  FOCA would make abortion legal anytime, anywhere, any age, any reason.   State or Federal Judges and politicians would be found in contempt by speaking out against FOCA once it is passed.  Doctors would no longer be able to claim they couldn’t do the procedure due to their conscience, and faith-based hospitals would be required to perform abortions they do not believe in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So under FOCA a 14 year old girl could be taken advantage of by say, a 25 year old man, get pregnant, be coerced by this man into getting an abortion, and of course not tell her parents about it.  Further, she can access tax dollars collected from folks experiencing infertility and who can't have a family to pay for this abortion, then  force a faith-based hospital and Christian or Muslim doctor to perform the procedure.  I agree this is an exaggerated scenario, but certainly one that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I ask you, how does any of this help&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; reduce&lt;/span&gt; the number of abortions??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if that's not bad enough, on 1-23-09 President Obama "rescinded a Reagan-era measure that blocks funding to foreign aid groups that perform or promote abortions."  Huh.  Do I need to wonder where that funding comes from?   It's bad enough my tax dollars are going to bail out greedy banks and don't-have-a-clue car manufacturers, but now I have to fund abortions on foreign soil?  In a country that is on it's economic knees, I don't think international abortion funding is a priority, do you?   Well, our President seems to think so anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm deeply troubled by FOCA and invite you to pray for all the unborn who are at risk, as well as speak out to our government on where you stand.     I'm stepping off my soap box now.  :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1402793551313786118?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1402793551313786118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1402793551313786118&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1402793551313786118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1402793551313786118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-i-couldnt-vote-for-obama.html' title='Why I Couldn&apos;t Vote for Obama'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4336072658878604252</id><published>2009-01-27T07:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T07:05:00.918-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Child Proofing</title><content type='html'>Last month I requested that Mike remove all the child proofing from the cabinets.  Many of our cabinets with chemicals or glass dishes still had "Tot Loks" on them (a special lock that requires a magnetic key to open.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://trus.imageg.net/graphics/product_images/pTRU1-2907355dt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 231px;" src="http://trus.imageg.net/graphics/product_images/pTRU1-2907355dt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric has been opening up the cabinets with the key for a couple years, but I kept the locks on for Charlotte's sake.....probably a year too long (neither of my children has been the "budding scientist" wanting to mix ammonia with bleach or something crazy like that, so the locks really could've come off a while ago.)   More likely they'd get into the movie cabinet and leave the contents strewn all over the living room floor.   But, there was just too much life going on to be bothered with thinking about changing how to access the contents of a cabinet differently than I've been doing for the past 7 years.   So they stayed on a little longer than needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that the Tot Loks are off the cabinets, I have to say I'm really loving just walking up to a cabinet and opening it right up!  I used to do this all the time before I had children, but now it's such a novelty!  No longer do I have to first reach for the magnet key, which is never where it's supposed to be, just to grab an SOS pad or a glass dish.  No hunting it down, no waiting for the click that tells me the key has unlatched the lock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the growth of our children is bittersweet at times, there are small victories like this one to console us as we go along.   And if I can sell the locks on eBay, all the better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4336072658878604252?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4336072658878604252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4336072658878604252&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4336072658878604252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4336072658878604252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/child-proofing.html' title='Child Proofing'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8467133468565431411</id><published>2009-01-23T08:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:00:30.482-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Perfect Timing</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was an awesome day!  Everything went so well with our trip to the Orthopedic Doctor.  We're very relieved and thankful it's not more serious than it is!  Thank you everyone for your prayers and kind thoughts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Mike also received a long-awaited phone call.  I'm not sure if you recall, but while we were on vacation last October Mike received a call from Randy about a job at a mostly commercial company.   At the time, Mike had a job, so we really needed to pray on whether this was an opportunity he should take.  However, Mike got laid off 1.5 weeks after we returned from vacation, so that pretty much decided that the commercial job was a definite possibility, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike turned in a resume last November (highly unusual for carpentry work), and then nothing happened.  He stayed in contact with Randy, who kept encouraging Mike to "hang in there".  Then last week Mike was told to come  in for an interview, because they were ready to hire &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;one &lt;/span&gt;new carpenter.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;One&lt;/span&gt;!  In an industry that has the highest rate of unemployment in the nation right now (15%), you can imagine the competition for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt; position.  I really believe God went before Mike and cleared the way, though, because the interview went well and Mike made a good impression.  Yesterday the supervisor called and offered Mike the job!!  Doing a serious happy dance here, and very grateful to God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for that perfect timing?   A couple weeks ago I asked Mike to call our insurance to find out when it expired.  Our insurance is based off of hours worked.  So the hours worked one quarter qualify you for insurance the next quarter.  As it turned out, we had insurance through May 2009, but Mike needed to start working and banking hours by early February in order for our insurance to continue uninterrupted.  I'd say the timing on this job couldn't be more perfect!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8467133468565431411?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8467133468565431411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8467133468565431411&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8467133468565431411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8467133468565431411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/perfect-timing.html' title='Perfect Timing'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2228073210489615594</id><published>2009-01-19T07:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:29:39.440-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>One True God</title><content type='html'>I've been hearing a new song on the radio, and I just love it.  I'd add it to my playlist, but it's not available yet!   But "yay" for Youtube; I can always find what I need on there.  It's really a beautiful song and such a humbling reminder of what an awesome God we have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Turn on your speakers and hit the play button below&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_ChgTPSzIS0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_ChgTPSzIS0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't have a God I can put on a stand &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Or a God I hold in the palm of my hand &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I have a God that's holding me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; And I don't have a God that I can create &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; In the place I live with the money I make &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I have a God, He made everything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; So I don't need a temporary man-made deity &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; When I got the real thing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I got the real thing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; He's the Lord of all the earth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The maker of all things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; He alone is the one true God &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Kingdoms rise and fall &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; But even through it all &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; He remains &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The one true God &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I don't have a thing that I got on my own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I don't have a care that I carry alone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; But I have a God who's carrying me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I don't have sin that He doesn't forgive &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; And I don't have a heart that is worthy of His &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; But I have a God who still loves me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; So I don't need a temporary man made deity &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; When I got the real thing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I got the real thing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Who is this King of Glory &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The Lord strong and mighty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Who is this King of Glory &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; The Lord strong and mighty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Who is this King of Glory &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Who is this King of Glory &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2228073210489615594?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2228073210489615594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2228073210489615594&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2228073210489615594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2228073210489615594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-true-god.html' title='One True God'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4384128974899642995</id><published>2009-01-15T13:50:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T14:08:58.379-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Preschool Forensics</title><content type='html'>Today is a frigid day.  Temps were -33 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fahrenheit&lt;/span&gt; this morning, so school was canceled.   I'm sure all the bus-riders were very happy about that!  This left me with a couple of kids to keep occupied.    Eric was easy to please because he's usually in school all day, then has to come home and do more homework, so that leaves him very little time to play the Wii.  So he's clocked a little bit of time today playing a game.    To throw a little variety into his day, I've asked him to do some reading ("Diary of a Wimpy Kid").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte loves to color, so I got her started on a biiiiig coloring project.  Last year when I volunteered in Eric's 1st grade class, I used to help out in all sorts of ways - everything from "patrolling" the room to help kids out with math, to photocopying, and decorating the boards.  The teacher used huge butcher paper for the background on the board, and when it was time to change the scene, that paper would just get thrown away.  So I asked to take it home.  I rolled it up, stuck it under a dresser, and promptly forgot about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to a few days ago when I remembered the paper and wrote myself a note to do this project on Monday (school holiday).  Figured I might as well do it today instead and try to come up with something else on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had Charlotte come into the kitchen and lay down.  Notice the shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VF93AEEI/AAAAAAAAAlU/l1PsUQpNgZU/s1600-h/Self1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VF93AEEI/AAAAAAAAAlU/l1PsUQpNgZU/s400/Self1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291612016920760386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a pencil I traced around Charlotte.  My favorite part is the shoes.  I then took a marker and traced over the pencil.  It looks eerily like an outline at a crime scene.  Not my intent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VJNosUPI/AAAAAAAAAlc/X7sjHW5V-hs/s1600-h/Self2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VJNosUPI/AAAAAAAAAlc/X7sjHW5V-hs/s400/Self2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291612072695320818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now comes the fun part for a coloring gal like Charlotte.  The first thing to get colored in was her hair, and here she's coloring in the dress.  That's a purple flower on the dress, btw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VOPSzYXI/AAAAAAAAAlk/vjSvMlNLgMY/s1600-h/Self4Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VOPSzYXI/AAAAAAAAAlk/vjSvMlNLgMY/s400/Self4Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291612159039725938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got about 1/3 of the way done and needed a break, so I rolled it up and I'm sure she'll enjoy working on it over the next couple of days.  I'll post a photo of her paper-self when it's done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4384128974899642995?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4384128974899642995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4384128974899642995&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4384128974899642995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4384128974899642995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/crime-scene.html' title='Preschool Forensics'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SW-VF93AEEI/AAAAAAAAAlU/l1PsUQpNgZU/s72-c/Self1Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-9038788720969284718</id><published>2009-01-13T18:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T20:21:20.349-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>I Can Has Cheezburger</title><content type='html'>This is another post dedicated to a website that I love to check out from time to time. Since I love cats, I find it hysterical. If you're not into cats, the site owners also have a dog version called &lt;a href="http://ihasahotdog.com/"&gt;I has a hot dog&lt;/a&gt;, and I put a few of those at the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-pictures-cat-likes-drinking-out-of-the-tree-basin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-pictures-cat-likes-drinking-out-of-the-tree-basin.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-pictures-cat-caught-his-tail-and-might-fall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 399px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-pictures-cat-caught-his-tail-and-might-fall.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-pictures-cat-curses-the-metric-system.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-pictures-cat-curses-the-metric-system.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-the-dog-has-a-hard-test-in-obedience-school.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-the-dog-has-a-hard-test-in-obedience-school.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-hides-dog-under-a-pillow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 401px; height: 357px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-hides-dog-under-a-pillow.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-says-cheese-awkwardly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 399px; height: 266px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-says-cheese-awkwardly.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-is-blocking-your-treadmill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 399px; height: 299px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-is-blocking-your-treadmill.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-giant-cat-destroys-a-village.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-giant-cat-destroys-a-village.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-rearranges-furniture-for-his-comfort.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 387px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-cat-rearranges-furniture-for-his-comfort.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-your-pod-kittens-are-hatching.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-pictures-your-pod-kittens-are-hatching.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/funny-pictures-ocd-cat-is-disturbed-by-loose-threads1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/funny-pictures-ocd-cat-is-disturbed-by-loose-threads1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-dog-pictures-saddest-fetch-ever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-dog-pictures-saddest-fetch-ever.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-dog-pictures-big-city-dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/funny-dog-pictures-big-city-dog.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-dog-pictures-this-dog-is-not-really-on-the-couch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-dog-pictures-this-dog-is-not-really-on-the-couch.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-dog-pictures-swimming-dog-is-freezing-cold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/funny-dog-pictures-swimming-dog-is-freezing-cold.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-9038788720969284718?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/9038788720969284718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=9038788720969284718&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9038788720969284718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9038788720969284718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-can-has-cheezburger.html' title='I Can Has Cheezburger'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-2898791205083941515</id><published>2009-01-10T09:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T09:39:00.227-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheryl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>There's My DNA</title><content type='html'>One day last month Charlotte and I settled in to look at one of my scrap albums.  It happened to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Volume I&lt;/span&gt; in a collection of "My Life" albums.  I was looking for some photos of the blizzard of  1979 to show her because she didn't believe me that the snow was so high we could walk right up on top of our shed and jump off into the snow drifts on the other side (it was great fun, by the way.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte wanted to start at the beginning of the album and go all the way through to the end.  Along the way were baby photos, vacations in Kentucky and Washington DC, plus the obligatory school pictures.  When we got to my Kindergarten photo, Charlotte pointed and said, "There's Eric!"     For years I've always looked at Eric as being a "Mini Me" of Mike.  From the moment he was placed into my arms at the hospital I saw the strong resemblance between the two of them.  Let's just say besides my blue eyes and poker straight hair, Eric didn't inherit much else from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Charlotte made that comment, though, I instinctively looked at that photo of me when I was 5 years old to see what she saw.   Perhaps it was the short hairstyle my Mom preferred on me, but I'd like to think that Charlotte saw the same resemblances that for the first time I happened to notice.  It was kind of exciting to see a little more evidence of my DNA.  In fact, I think he looks more like me now than he ever has before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWeiJDXwOWI/AAAAAAAAAlM/-rLfxZ4lIF8/s1600-h/DNA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWeiJDXwOWI/AAAAAAAAAlM/-rLfxZ4lIF8/s400/DNA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289374563777395042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-2898791205083941515?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/2898791205083941515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=2898791205083941515&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2898791205083941515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/2898791205083941515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/theres-my-dna.html' title='There&apos;s My DNA'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWeiJDXwOWI/AAAAAAAAAlM/-rLfxZ4lIF8/s72-c/DNA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8618597882327071196</id><published>2009-01-08T16:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T16:00:01.011-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><title type='text'>Homestyle Macaroni &amp; Cheese</title><content type='html'>I don't know how many years ago I cut this recipe out of the Chicago Tribune; my copy of it is yellowing so I know it was a while ago.  I've made this countless times, have shared the recipe with many, and Monday I got a hankering for it since I haven't made it in at least a year.   I guess I was craving some good old-fashioned comfort food.  My kids about gagged on it, 'cause it's not that nasty stuff from a box that they apparently prefer. This is one of my failures as a mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike most of my recipes,  this one will require a little bit of work.  It's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;easy&lt;/span&gt; work, but it's still going to require you to dirty up some dishes and stand at the stove or counter for 20 minutes.    The recipe "as is" will be more than sufficient as a side dish for a family of 4-5.  It easily doubles for a 9x13 pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 stick butter&lt;br /&gt;5 tbl all-purpose flour&lt;br /&gt;2 cups milk&lt;br /&gt;1/4 tsp dry mustard (or to taste)&lt;br /&gt;8 ounces uncooked elbow macaroni&lt;br /&gt;12 ounces (3 cups) grated mild cheddar cheese&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup bread crumbs&lt;br /&gt;1 tbl melted butter&lt;br /&gt;salt and pepper to taste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cook macaroni to al dente; drain (don't over cook, since it will continue cooking in the oven.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While macaroni is cooking, melt 1/2 stick of butter on medium heat.  Whisk in flour and stir for a minute.  Slowly add milk, whisking to combine.  Bring to a simmer.  Add salt, pepper and dry mustard.  Reduce heat to low and simmer sauce slowly till very thick, stirring frequently (10-20 minutes).    Remove sauce from heat.  Add 8 oz (2 cups) cheese and stir until it melts.  Pour sauce over macaroni and stir &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(NOTE:  This recipe makes more sauce than you need, so add about half and go from there till it's the desired consistency.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour macaroni and cheese into a dish that's been doused with cooking spray.  Top with remaining 1 cup of cheese.  Mix 1 tbl melted butter to 1/4 cup bread crumbs.   Sprinkle across the top.  Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes until lightly browned on top and bubbling.  Let stand for 5 minutes before serving.  I'm guessing it's like a gazillion artery-hardening calories, so don't think about it and just enjoy.....with some buttermilk biscuits slathered in butter.  Hey, what's it matter at this point ;-) ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWPyyvWfb0I/AAAAAAAAAk0/8718rTkkcpQ/s1600-h/MacNCheese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWPyyvWfb0I/AAAAAAAAAk0/8718rTkkcpQ/s320/MacNCheese.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288337340981276482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8618597882327071196?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8618597882327071196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8618597882327071196&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8618597882327071196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8618597882327071196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/homestyle-macaroni-cheese.html' title='Homestyle Macaroni &amp; Cheese'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWPyyvWfb0I/AAAAAAAAAk0/8718rTkkcpQ/s72-c/MacNCheese.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-4145629995032987982</id><published>2009-01-07T07:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T07:26:00.724-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Pardon Me</title><content type='html'>.....while I fiddle around with new backgrounds for my blog.  I'm trying to find one I like and can live with for a while.  Don't be surprised to find new backgrounds here over the next week or two before I settle on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the one&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-4145629995032987982?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/4145629995032987982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=4145629995032987982&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4145629995032987982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/4145629995032987982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/pardon-me.html' title='Pardon Me'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1932483046513604902</id><published>2009-01-06T08:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T08:00:00.440-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>The Bionic Battery</title><content type='html'>I think every parent out there can relate to this.  You know those annoyingly obnoxious toys that&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; J&lt;/span&gt;ust &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;on't &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;ie?   And it's nothing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you've&lt;/span&gt; ever bought for your child.  No.  It comes disguised as a birthday present or a Christmas gift from some non-well-meaning relative or friend who thinks it's funny to get these things for your child.    The louder and more annoying it is, the more your child loves it too.  Can anyone relate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 4 years ago when Eric was at the height of his Thomas the Tank craze he received a musical Christmas tree ornament that was a train.  You press the little red heart-shaped button and various ear-splitting-loud Christmas tunes play.  It's amazing how loud this little thing plays.  It's about 4" big, ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year we pull this thing out of storage in our attic (which is freezing cold in the winter and boiling hot in the summer), and every freakin' year this train ornament still plays!    And it doesn't play faintly......it's as loud as the first time Eric pressed that button.   It's no wonder after the kids went to bed that I relocated the ornament to a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very high&lt;/span&gt; branch.  What kind of battery is in this thing, anyway?   I had to laugh Sunday as I packed it away for another year, knowing full well that it probably won't die till my kids are teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWFA4SC_lzI/AAAAAAAAAks/wkTi4IYGp8Q/s1600-h/TrainOrnament.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWFA4SC_lzI/AAAAAAAAAks/wkTi4IYGp8Q/s400/TrainOrnament.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287578773170919218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1932483046513604902?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1932483046513604902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1932483046513604902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1932483046513604902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1932483046513604902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/bionic-battery.html' title='The Bionic Battery'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWFA4SC_lzI/AAAAAAAAAks/wkTi4IYGp8Q/s72-c/TrainOrnament.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-6072883923799996591</id><published>2009-01-03T18:43:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T16:51:47.528-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>A Few Words From Charlotte</title><content type='html'>I don't think there's a day that goes by when Charlotte doesn't crack me up with something she says.  Here are a few Charlotisms.  I hope you get a chuckle out of them too.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWEHkeP7wgI/AAAAAAAAAkk/ReA5ReJX-VA/s1600-h/Charlotte1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 374px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWEHkeP7wgI/AAAAAAAAAkk/ReA5ReJX-VA/s400/Charlotte1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287515760686252546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm only five years old, and I know stuff that I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:   "I have something to say."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "What's that honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  "Chickens lay eggs, cows lay milk, and farmer's grow corn."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's getting early out.  The sky is up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene: Tuck in time for Charlotte. She kept getting out of bed to tuck in her dolls, arrange her animals, a drink of water, etc. Finally I'd had enough, and said sternly, "Come on, let's go!" Charlotte responded matter-of-factly, "Sometimes I'm like that. I'm only a child ya know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she's doing her homework:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think I"m getting along with my A's today."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-6072883923799996591?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/6072883923799996591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=6072883923799996591&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6072883923799996591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/6072883923799996591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2009/01/few-words-from-charlotte.html' title='A Few Words From Charlotte'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SWEHkeP7wgI/AAAAAAAAAkk/ReA5ReJX-VA/s72-c/Charlotte1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-721713292683573986</id><published>2008-12-31T15:56:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T16:28:06.059-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>A Glance Back</title><content type='html'>It's hard to believe that I've been bloggin' for 6 mos! I wasn't sure at first if I'd find enough to write about, but I suppose if you think about it long enough, there's always something to blather on about. I've enjoyed spending a little bit of time today going back and looking at entries made earlier this year. I think that's the best part of blogging for me: keeping a diary of some of the more everyday things that happen in our lives (and some major events as well!) A few of my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-will-not-smile-for-you.html"&gt;A little Charlotte attitude&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/08/vcr-ate-my-tae-bo-tape_01.html"&gt;Troubles with the VCR&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/08/whats-appetizn.html"&gt;Mike gets baptized&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/09/best-laid-plans-oft-go-awry_23.html"&gt;Life doesn't go as planned&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-beautiful-day-to-play.html"&gt;One fine rainy day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/10/florida-vacation-my-favorite-photos.html"&gt;Favorite photos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://z.hubpages.com/u/669072_f260.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://z.hubpages.com/u/669072_f260.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://z.hubpages.com/u/669072_f260.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-721713292683573986?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/721713292683573986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=721713292683573986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/721713292683573986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/721713292683573986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/glance-back.html' title='A Glance Back'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8911966823727336975</id><published>2008-12-25T06:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T11:04:16.581-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I'm enjoying my family today, but scheduled this post in case you were able to grab a moment to yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You know all the hoo-hah over the expression "Happy Holidays" in lieu of "Merry Christmas"?    Personally, it's never bothered me either way.    In this day and age, I consider it astonishing if a cashier wishes me a happy anything.    So if it comes in the form of "Happy Holidays", I throw a greeting back at them and am on my way.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When you think about it, there are a lot of events on the calendar this month.  We live in a country that is a melting pot of ethnicity and traditions, so of course December isn't just about a Christian Christmas.  For instance, there's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;the tradition of Santa, Kwanzaa, Omisoka, &lt;/span&gt; St. Lucia Day, Boxing Day, &lt;span name="KonaBody"&gt;Al-Hijra,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Winter Solstice, Hanukkah, and even occasionally &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span name="KonaBody"&gt;Eid-al-Adha depending on the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand"Merry Christmas" is a Christian expression that a non-Christian may not feel at-home with (probably because it's a combination of Christ and Mass.  Mass is a festival, so basically it's a festival honoring Christ.)   But I think those people are the minority, at least according to polls stating that 80% of Americans identify themselves as Christian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do believe is that most folks genuinely want to have a single, all-encompassing greeting during the month of December.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;However, I don't think "Happy Holidays" is the answer for the generic greeting.  Why?  Well, "Happy Holidays" doesn't mean what you may think it means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion" &gt;"The word 'holiday' itself is a middle English derivative meaning 'holy day'.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The word denotes a religious festival, a        consecrated day called a 'holy day' – a day set apart.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion" &gt;When people tell you 'Happy Holidays', they are, in effect, saying 'Happy Holy Days'. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look to my &lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-dictionary-is-so-old.html"&gt;trusty Webster dictionary&lt;/a&gt;, which I still haven't retired, it states that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Holy&lt;/span&gt; means&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"set apart to the service of God; characterized by perfection and transcendence, commanding absolute adoration and reverence, spiritually pure, Godly, evoking or meriting awe."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Further, when I look up in the dictionary the word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;holiday&lt;/span&gt; to see what it says, the first thing listed under the definition is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;holy day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; (the other meanings are a day off or vacation, which really doesn't apply to this discussion unless you're going skiing in Aspen, and if you were, I wouldn't say, "Happy Holidays", I'd say, "Have a nice holiday".  Actually, I'd probably say, "Have a nice trip."   Anyway, I don't think the cashier at Target is wishing me a nice vacation or a happy day off.  I'm a stay at home mom.  I never get a day off.)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; So it seems to me that if someone is looking for a politically correct, non-religious, non-Christian, non-Jewish, non-Muslim, non-non way to wish everyone they meet a happy something or other, "Seasons Greetings" would probably be about the only safe bet I can think of.  Just wait and see if it doesn't catch on.      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8911966823727336975?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8911966823727336975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8911966823727336975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8911966823727336975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8911966823727336975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas-or-happy-holidays.html' title='Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays?'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-1576520899259837934</id><published>2008-12-22T08:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:35:00.969-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlotte'/><title type='text'>Get 'Er Done</title><content type='html'>Looking at the calendar to see what was going on for the week of Christmas, I had to shake my head over the crazy schedule and all the things we needed to get done and the places we needed to go.  I look forward to all the things associated with Christmas.   I love going to church and celebrating God's amazing gift to us, visiting with friends and family, wrapping presents, all the goodies to eat, and watching all those Christmas movies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't particularly like, but always feel obligated to do, is take a few "formal" shots of my kids on Christmas Eve in all their finery.  It never goes well; they're always cranky when I want to do this.  I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Christmas Eve 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU8KNGNZAOI/AAAAAAAAAkc/7-9edgambmU/s1600-h/Cmas07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU8KNGNZAOI/AAAAAAAAAkc/7-9edgambmU/s400/Cmas07.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282452108050235618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people would give up, but I feel compelled to document every moment of my kids' lives, plus I feel like the "end of the year" photo is important.  So this year I decided to try doing the photos before Christmas and see if I had any better luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric wasn't too keen on participating, but told me I could take&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; two photos&lt;/span&gt;.  No easy task since the kid has a fake smile plastered to his face every time the camera comes out.  Talk about a little pressure to get them right the first time.   After a bit of teasing and joking to loosen him up, one of those two photos was a good capture of Eric.  I love the snaggle tooth out there front and center.  It's real, ya know?  And although Eric isn't in the nice sweater he'll wear on Christmas Eve, I find that I don't care what he's wearing since I got a natural and happy expression from my 'lil man!  A bit of Photoshop here, a little Photoshop there.....and the cartoon character on the shirt is a goner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU8Cp3Z8yiI/AAAAAAAAAkU/BRdoj1Qa4jA/s1600-h/Eric1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU8Cp3Z8yiI/AAAAAAAAAkU/BRdoj1Qa4jA/s400/Eric1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282443806199564834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Charlotte is a natural in front of the camera (most of the time)....a natural ham, that is.   She was also very anxious to give the ole Christmas Eve clothes a trial run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU79EDwwBFI/AAAAAAAAAkE/CLejv_ONVIg/s1600-h/Charlotte4Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU79EDwwBFI/AAAAAAAAAkE/CLejv_ONVIg/s400/Charlotte4Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282437659123254354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oops, cut her toes off.  It's still sort of a cute photo :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU78_0fGhgI/AAAAAAAAAj8/Up_as3koWP0/s1600-h/Charlotte3Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU78_0fGhgI/AAAAAAAAAj8/Up_as3koWP0/s400/Charlotte3Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282437586303223298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was shooting the photos, I paused to take a quick peek at some information on the camera and happened to see this photo below.    Tears pricked my eyes as I stared at the image.   Charlotte is such a loving, giving person, who is always thinking of others.  She's silly and funny, sassy and smart.  She loves Jesus, loves helping other people, and can light up a room with her brilliant smile.  It's all of those wonderful qualities on the inside that makes her the most beautiful little girl I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU788eKDNFI/AAAAAAAAAj0/MKREWRw8X8U/s1600-h/Charlotte1Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU788eKDNFI/AAAAAAAAAj0/MKREWRw8X8U/s400/Charlotte1Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282437528769737810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-1576520899259837934?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/1576520899259837934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=1576520899259837934&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1576520899259837934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/1576520899259837934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/get-er-done.html' title='Get &apos;Er Done'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/SU8KNGNZAOI/AAAAAAAAAkc/7-9edgambmU/s72-c/Cmas07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-870934838129600506</id><published>2008-12-20T07:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T08:13:40.992-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Oh Look!  Another Christmas Card!</title><content type='html'>I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; to mail out our annual Christmas card, but this year I'm refraining from doing so in an effort to not spend money that we don't have anyway.   This is the first year in over a decade that I haven't sent out Christmas cards.  It feels unnatural.    Okay, okay, I did send out just a few cards, but you can hardly fault me for sending cards to our out-of-state parents and siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I figured I could &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; post it on my blog.   If you're someone who loves to decorate around your house with the cards you receive, and you want to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pretend&lt;/span&gt; that you received my card in your actual mailbox, please feel free to print it off.  No one will know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Merry Christmas All!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST7lADm6FnI/AAAAAAAAAjE/dUCnGyasvNU/s1600-h/Cmas2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST7lADm6FnI/AAAAAAAAAjE/dUCnGyasvNU/s400/Cmas2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277907602456057458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;click to view larger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.leehansen.com/clipart/Seasons/Winter/images/red-mittens-border-h.gif"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-870934838129600506?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/870934838129600506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=870934838129600506&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/870934838129600506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/870934838129600506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-look-another-christmas-card.html' title='Oh Look!  Another Christmas Card!'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST7lADm6FnI/AAAAAAAAAjE/dUCnGyasvNU/s72-c/Cmas2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-9120684685581308868</id><published>2008-12-17T14:58:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T14:34:03.777-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winter'/><title type='text'>Bailey The Unknown Reindeer</title><content type='html'>This hysterical Youtube video was shared with me.  You will laugh out loud!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(tip:  If your speakers are on, turn off my "radio" down on the right before hitting the play button.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0sUL0KCIc48&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0sUL0KCIc48&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-9120684685581308868?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/9120684685581308868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=9120684685581308868&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9120684685581308868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/9120684685581308868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/bailey-unknown-reindeer.html' title='Bailey The Unknown Reindeer'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-3157403137242365397</id><published>2008-12-15T13:07:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T13:31:39.256-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><title type='text'>Mint Chip Freeze</title><content type='html'>It's recipe time......Here's a dessert that's likely to please most folks.  Makes a 9x13 pan full of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 (15 oz) package cream filled chocolate sandwich cookies, crushed&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup melted butter&lt;br /&gt;1 can (12 oz) evaporated milk&lt;br /&gt;1 cup sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup butter cubed&lt;br /&gt;2 squares (1 oz ea) unsweetened baking chocolate&lt;br /&gt;1/2 gallon mint chocolate chip ice cream, softened (peppermint ice cream would be awesome here too...or cherry garcia....or.....)&lt;br /&gt;1 (8 oz) carton cool whip thawed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Place cookies into a blender or food processor. Pulse a few times till it's crumbs. Dump into a large bowl and add 1/3 cup melted butter and mix well. Press into buttered 9 x 13 dish. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a saucepan, combine the milk, sugar, cubed butter, and chocolate. Cook over medium heat until thickened and bubbly....at least 10 minutes. &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Now here's where I deviated from the recipe. I also put in about about 3 tbl of cornstarch to help it thicken up a lot. If you don't do this, the mixture will be a gravy-like consistency. It'll eventually be put in the freezer anyway, but it seemed a bit runny to me. Just my preference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;/span&gt;When thickened and bubbling, remove from heat, cool completely (place some plastic over the top to keep a skin from forming.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remove crust from fridge. Spread ice cream over the top. Spoon cooled chocolate sauce over the top, spreading evenly to cover. Freeze until firm. Depending on your preference, you can either spread the cool whip all over the top and freeze it that way or put the cool whip on when you serve the dessert (depends on if you want cool whip frozen or not.) Either way, remove the dessert from the freezer about 10 minutes before serving to making cutting easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what this recipe would taste like using mint patties instead of Oreos, and the mint chip ice cream replaced with chocolate.  Hmmm???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hostedmedia.reimanpub.com/TOH/Images/Photos/37/exps27928_TH10528D39B.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 223px;" src="http://hostedmedia.reimanpub.com/TOH/Images/Photos/37/exps27928_TH10528D39B.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-3157403137242365397?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/3157403137242365397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=3157403137242365397&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3157403137242365397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/3157403137242365397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/mint-chip-freeze.html' title='Mint Chip Freeze'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-5945540370707500837</id><published>2008-12-13T08:19:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T13:28:18.657-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>A Woeful Tale of Slow Death</title><content type='html'>(Oh I can hear you saying, "And a Merry Christmas to you too.  Geesh.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to our pre-lit Christmas tree.  I had discussed some problems we were having with it a couple weeks ago (&lt;a href="http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-i-torture-my-kids-part-i.html"&gt;see story here&lt;/a&gt;).  After the cheap fix, things were looking good.  That is, till Thursday.   I was in Eric's bedroom hanging out with the kids after dinner.  From his room you can partially see the tree in the living room.  And that's when I noticed that the lights on the top 10-12" of the tree are unlit.  I can only conclude that the 6th Christmas  for our tree is it's undoing.   Mike and I are just (sort of) laughing about it and holding our breath, quite unsure how our tree is going to look come Christmas Eve and morning.    We're of the mind that the only lights on the thing that'll be working are the $2 strand we picked up at Menards a couple weeks ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-5945540370707500837?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/5945540370707500837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=5945540370707500837&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5945540370707500837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/5945540370707500837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/woeful-tale-of-slow-death.html' title='A Woeful Tale of Slow Death'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8556987335802999594</id><published>2008-12-11T19:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T15:10:03.767-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Thankful Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here's what I'm thankful for today, in no particular order:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Photographs.  Yours, mine, and everyone else's.  I love looking at them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Pizza.  Thank you to whoever invented it.  I love it and will never tire of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.   My new winter coat that I found in October (there's a whole story to go with it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The Library.  Our local library has a great selection of books and movies and has great kids programs.  I've always loved going to libraries, and still do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Palm Trees.  What an awesome tree to look at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to share what you're thankful for today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8556987335802999594?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8556987335802999594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8556987335802999594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8556987335802999594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8556987335802999594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/thankful-thursday_11.html' title='Thankful Thursday'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4217731220604811858.post-8066806449985007630</id><published>2008-12-10T11:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:31:06.117-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>A Few of My Favorite Ornaments</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why you would be the least bit interested in our tree ornaments, but I feel like posting a few photos of some of them.  So there you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An angel blowing a trumpet.  My Mom gave this to me years and years ago.  I love how it reflects the tree lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6b3QiU7I/AAAAAAAAAjs/OEGZGyGy4xU/s1600-h/Ornament2Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6b3QiU7I/AAAAAAAAAjs/OEGZGyGy4xU/s320/Ornament2Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278212644898231218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to see, but if you look on the photo, there's an itty bitty 10 mos old baby sitting on the floor in front of the tree (hard to believe Eric was ever that small!).  At the time I worked about 30 hours a week, and our baby sitter took the photo and made the ornament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6PkVvIqI/AAAAAAAAAjk/GPpThYLZklo/s1600-h/Ornament4Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6PkVvIqI/AAAAAAAAAjk/GPpThYLZklo/s320/Ornament4Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278212433661338274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long before Keats and Milo were adopted into our family, I had two other cats - Alice and Trixie.Shortly after I got pregnant with Charlotte,   Trixie died from cancer at 15 years of age.  I bought this ornament the Christmas after she passed away.  I still miss her persnickety ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6L_bH4jI/AAAAAAAAAjc/tbJvzMlEczo/s1600-h/Ornament6Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6L_bH4jI/AAAAAAAAAjc/tbJvzMlEczo/s320/Ornament6Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278212372212212274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike knows I love pretty ornaments.  He picked this one out as a gift a few years ago.  It's got spun glass all around the inside of the globe and reflects all the lights from the tree.  Very pretty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6H41YLFI/AAAAAAAAAjU/LH8BOciVInY/s1600-h/Ornament8Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6H41YLFI/AAAAAAAAAjU/LH8BOciVInY/s320/Ornament8Web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278212301723806802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the newest addition.....an ornament I picked up in Orlando.   The year 2008 is on the reverse side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_5glGH0-I/AAAAAAAAAjM/Net2fnQG4Wc/s1600-h/Ornament.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_5glGH0-I/AAAAAAAAAjM/Net2fnQG4Wc/s320/Ornament.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278211626410431458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4217731220604811858-8066806449985007630?l=womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/feeds/8066806449985007630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4217731220604811858&amp;postID=8066806449985007630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8066806449985007630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4217731220604811858/posts/default/8066806449985007630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womanatthewelloflife.blogspot.com/2008/12/few-of-my-favorite-ornaments.html' title='A Few of My Favorite Ornaments'/><author><name>Cheryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16722862687204526326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/Se-8gmJvqWI/AAAAAAAAAus/Puqrm5bwxkU/S220/Cheryl.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8pLfyzSt-Sg/ST_6b3QiU7I/AAAAAAAAAjs/OEGZGyGy4xU/s72-c/Ornament2Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
