tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81202469716153361782024-03-19T10:18:48.516-07:00Neca's CornerNames may have been changed to protect the not-so-innocentNecahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-4516217726079269252010-08-18T12:13:00.000-07:002010-08-18T14:41:30.652-07:00Milestones and Miles-stonesWow...it's been a long time since I've written. Too long. It's been a busy few months. Here's a little rundown on what's been going on here. We had all my grandbabies together here in May, which was hectic but oh so nice!! For Mother's Day, I had all 3 of my children with me, which hasn't happened in a few years. Megan and I went to North Carolina so she could meet her favorite NASCAR driver. Then Megan went to Texas for 6 weeks in June. I traveled to Texas a couple of times, and to Mississippi too. Of course Stan is always traveling somewhere. Plus there are more travels in my future....to see my granddaughters...go on a cancer awareness walk...watch my sweet niece become a wife. Life can be very hectic and busy. Time has a way of getting away from us. It's up to each of us to stop, take a breath, and remember what is truly important in our lives. <div><div><br /></div><div>So here are some milestones that have happened for us this year (funny how most of them are age-related)....just to name a few:</div><div><br /></div><div>Our grandson Chase turned one in April (today he is 16 months old). He is a sweet boy, who is easy-going for the most part. But he definitely has a temper and he's not afraid to use it!!! He's working on walking now and then it's watch out!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Our oldest granddaughter Audrey will be two tomorrow. She is a sweet, mischievous, beautiful, stubborn girl who knows exactly what she wants and when she wants it!! And already she has a shoe fetish!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Our youngest granddaughter Kayla is seven months old now. She's starting to crawl and getting teeth and is just the happiest baby! She has the most wonderful crooked smile that can melt your heart!</div><div><br /></div><div>Melissa turned 25 (wow...and yet I am still so young!!). Megan turned Sweet 16 and is a junior this year. Matt is 22 but says he can't wait until he's 25 because then I'll be twice his age (pain in the butt boy!). </div><div><br /></div><div>And then there is Stan, who will turn the big 5-0 in a couple of weeks!!! And yet, I'll still be in my LOW 40's!! Arguments, anyone??? Didn't think so!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Even the dog is having her milestones....like she's almost A MILLION YEARS OLD now!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>And then this summer, I had something happen to me that has never happened to me before!!! It happened to Stan a while back and I'm sure it has happened to millions of people already. But for me, it was a first! </div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDo_jcHZhgtTCU7Xasa2arYOzT3b5wWz2OpvbEMSqiJMCErhF7cCw9g4PJJRZYwpyWDSHvT22r6k8xG40rxD31AEnbIiP1RsIhxZDWcuESC3YiaqJ0fc60f4NONPI2y6U6ZElSITAXYdzP/s1600/CIMG5252.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506864529964538418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDo_jcHZhgtTCU7Xasa2arYOzT3b5wWz2OpvbEMSqiJMCErhF7cCw9g4PJJRZYwpyWDSHvT22r6k8xG40rxD31AEnbIiP1RsIhxZDWcuESC3YiaqJ0fc60f4NONPI2y6U6ZElSITAXYdzP/s320/CIMG5252.JPG" /></a></p><div align="center">It happened in Claude, TX, population 1313 on June 30, 2010!!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryrAUJCr_MeYQWrwlitQqZOEesa-rtobcA_LuHd2VVdpzF1kBzHt-OfPLKT9LjeBsVsIZm-EIPIo30hFirrv_cpgDbE9KQfIRpoPJglYHu3U6g0Xr4bQAxoNRVNspxMnYJXgv9uAbqc5K/s1600/CIMG5247.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506861899410120466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryrAUJCr_MeYQWrwlitQqZOEesa-rtobcA_LuHd2VVdpzF1kBzHt-OfPLKT9LjeBsVsIZm-EIPIo30hFirrv_cpgDbE9KQfIRpoPJglYHu3U6g0Xr4bQAxoNRVNspxMnYJXgv9uAbqc5K/s320/CIMG5247.JPG" /></a></div><div align="center">I finally drove a car for 100,000 miles!!!</div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtFwcgqppAieQOShT000_yqNWRWvMALmZzJ5vDHt7c13PJtd1IdbiRrkckrUZrVcH56d9XqaWiijIMO4wnTfICc3aHGtegi3ZAxiJWNcjfVdDqrQ0sgPesKejBIG127ANLQNtLci-OO-Q/s1600/CIMG5249.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506864539220430770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtFwcgqppAieQOShT000_yqNWRWvMALmZzJ5vDHt7c13PJtd1IdbiRrkckrUZrVcH56d9XqaWiijIMO4wnTfICc3aHGtegi3ZAxiJWNcjfVdDqrQ0sgPesKejBIG127ANLQNtLci-OO-Q/s320/CIMG5249.JPG" /></a></p><div align="center">Yes, I stopped to take pictures. I must be a geek at heart!!<br /></div><div></div></div>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-43143826755907924922010-03-02T09:46:00.000-08:002010-03-02T10:03:16.388-08:00Farm SwapAs I was getting some stuff done around the house this morning, the show Wife Swap happened to come on. I don't watch that show, although like today I do catch bits of it, enough to know that I don't really like it. I hope that the people on it are not really like that in their real life. But it did get me thinking about what some other "wife" would have to do at my house. All I can say is that it's okay if the house gets dirty....if she forgets to pick Megan up at the bus stop....if she doesn't like running errands for Stan....if she totally hates living in my house....BUT, she better take good care of my FarmVille farm!! Those pink cows are priceless!!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-59406965651754361292010-02-03T19:27:00.000-08:002010-02-03T20:29:29.461-08:00Sweet Baby Boy<div>While I loved being with my granddaughters for so long, I did miss a few things here in Colorado. The mountains, the unpredictable weather, my house, my husband and the kiddies....just to name a few. </div><div><br />And boy did I miss this face:<br /></div><p align="center"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434231520694298498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFWW5wuUd8QSmvqmq-RqEOatf_5uuQx-10ucjRGf7MbRKX3YQkMDltkF7HzZrdruE9X1uvGX7Wx_o0-PPZrO_Tv3c_08yh6Qlrb6ag5CPrQG9AMHVgNr5a26JPimGCRcQZf3GgNTa5OKn/s320/CIMG4561.JPG" /><br /><br /></p><p align="center"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434231527773880690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXJ4acGDEzyLL2i11MYk51tcpQgs0Dm3EmEwIqy87d5S0iIiOdx-HwIdEGtgPh4d4z7FdlsizkDLr6GCv2j8_xmNkrclolk1e63x437tD7grwaiC91iX0o3nfXmtwrnMrCA0d4hkZERsp/s320/CIMG4784.JPG" /></p><div>Our sweet little grandson, Chase. He's such a sweetie and such a happy baby! I got to see him on the webcam...and that was nice. But it's not the same as smooching on him in person! For the few weeks I was gone, Chase grew so much. His hair is coming in (but only on top...too cute!). He is still working on his first tooth, which means drooling ALOT. He's still not crawling...he's happy to be sitting on the floor with toys all around (takes after his daddy on that one). <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1c2vx9ftlb51p1bmIqoRqfIRLmKK9-4o0JyHZOEeKVJCyELqo78EGucSEqPh7TADl-FutLZSEk0d-vGLeFSYnNLUhNbvDw2VcP13ZADdE2X4WXW8MLroOG8gPODJG689ZwwFJaGQ0jFw0/s1600-h/CIMG4787.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434235279521168514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1c2vx9ftlb51p1bmIqoRqfIRLmKK9-4o0JyHZOEeKVJCyELqo78EGucSEqPh7TADl-FutLZSEk0d-vGLeFSYnNLUhNbvDw2VcP13ZADdE2X4WXW8MLroOG8gPODJG689ZwwFJaGQ0jFw0/s320/CIMG4787.JPG" /></a></p></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5b6OpPganmWYZsRRVRg6WfCEia_k7ZjWgDZ7ksCZUAUji0ihaWJagjcL79qxFxMG853m78PfvSuC0lSExqxr8Lk7DnrzdPJF7Oqza50bVExl8xPr0WMJP4t_X05clE2WUVjDu8ote_HAi/s1600-h/CIMG4794.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434235287614116498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5b6OpPganmWYZsRRVRg6WfCEia_k7ZjWgDZ7ksCZUAUji0ihaWJagjcL79qxFxMG853m78PfvSuC0lSExqxr8Lk7DnrzdPJF7Oqza50bVExl8xPr0WMJP4t_X05clE2WUVjDu8ote_HAi/s320/CIMG4794.JPG" /></a></p><div>Nana missed you so much, Chasey-Wasey!! I'm happy to be smooching on you again in person!!<br /></div><p align="left"></p>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-50165607533139578192010-01-26T16:58:00.000-08:002010-01-26T18:54:04.686-08:00Why We Have Our Babies YoungI just spent 4 weeks with my daughter and her family as they prepared for the arrival of their baby girl. Stan, Megan and I drove to MS for Christmas, then traveled to TX to visit with Melissa, Mark and Audrey. Stan and Megan had to leave to go back home before the baby was born, and I stayed on to help out in any way I could. And thus began my wonderful, tiring, awesome, worn out, amazing journey with my granddaughter! <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0I9My9SNOYQWlXdT83ApxZhRTxOMpmsB8ZMgS3glZRYJizmpMXSHBoYA7pwSlur9z-dFnkEN6_yCfS19OcIHdlxjHt9hf5CTmwF_dBYVGltZWtJg4Spk0_zZZBhUCyug9YMB5pBculNC/s1600-h/CIMG4715.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431225548524473762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0I9My9SNOYQWlXdT83ApxZhRTxOMpmsB8ZMgS3glZRYJizmpMXSHBoYA7pwSlur9z-dFnkEN6_yCfS19OcIHdlxjHt9hf5CTmwF_dBYVGltZWtJg4Spk0_zZZBhUCyug9YMB5pBculNC/s320/CIMG4715.JPG" /></a></p><div><br />She is one busy little girl. </div><div><br /></div><p align="right">Driving around in her car. <img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431226842805520546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhxwqqfOarCLtLBr6H3F3wTOBXeH9wA0_1bcYe6oTBSsdkgC4-053rkfsTJLExENbrF_Qw6T0Sg2PoNiTzLECD6sp38qnzUZWF8ERff5iKL7M8j4xWmX6y0MHFhxMpab5NLvqHq5JYMAd/s320/CIMG4630.JPG" /><br /><br /></p><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_Wnn4kUpQuxIoCT4TLo4WjNz0gaYPVFnUL4ISm-9YWlp8eMsaMSCQFxCPXusdZDLs42vB3qnR1AGV4EMGcYqSE8VVDWXX4y4zBsTzdCbyxr_-ULO1DcO0UrPzQ1GxAI3K9T9XI6r5_6p/s1600-h/CIMG4697.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431226852820354098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_Wnn4kUpQuxIoCT4TLo4WjNz0gaYPVFnUL4ISm-9YWlp8eMsaMSCQFxCPXusdZDLs42vB3qnR1AGV4EMGcYqSE8VVDWXX4y4zBsTzdCbyxr_-ULO1DcO0UrPzQ1GxAI3K9T9XI6r5_6p/s320/CIMG4697.JPG" /></a>Playing dress up with blankets.....<br /></div><p align="right">....and hats. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqxkapBOHcUCKejR37xrnVc3cpNTAlCwZOasreO_I9cmUW1Dm-j_gZLkQtuZ9a6lXNYaXxT9qdc4Y_7ctA8G-MsAOhEw7csZPnJM9A29wUYhngMy5B7Kfy51d6hvyk3-Fb43lapWpnCe2/s1600-h/CIMG4681.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431226856266231682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqxkapBOHcUCKejR37xrnVc3cpNTAlCwZOasreO_I9cmUW1Dm-j_gZLkQtuZ9a6lXNYaXxT9qdc4Y_7ctA8G-MsAOhEw7csZPnJM9A29wUYhngMy5B7Kfy51d6hvyk3-Fb43lapWpnCe2/s320/CIMG4681.JPG" /></a><br /></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyl4wYTBdqWvMLl2l3QXl5kRfXfc-CC7dbQZLwoTbYGEQuRS1SqeKprYfkLMudd41-yN8dhllaqCgYaH6e24dAKRn7wQ3NLNppIOc_7Xyd9wqqKCtz8QPyw0ZdMSbL8AXUBcvYr3k-GKU/s1600-h/CIMG4711.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431228571040620914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyl4wYTBdqWvMLl2l3QXl5kRfXfc-CC7dbQZLwoTbYGEQuRS1SqeKprYfkLMudd41-yN8dhllaqCgYaH6e24dAKRn7wQ3NLNppIOc_7Xyd9wqqKCtz8QPyw0ZdMSbL8AXUBcvYr3k-GKU/s320/CIMG4711.JPG" /></a>Then there's the tunnel to crawl through. And yes, Nana even crawled through it too!! No picture (thank goodness!!)</div><div></div><p align="right">The amazing ball pit! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM4EZR5R5MOOy8TJZFlRq20QQWe3vtREC6k69JGFRarrYiplRiqezl_EPc329oASpCC5ybtfulsJS1Ie2smrqil9a6x2mExFVzBbaOkWBl3LnqnHSWMfkW1q9_W0yd0nw0LGf1Drz1f-H/s1600-h/CIMG4751.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431228588616327138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM4EZR5R5MOOy8TJZFlRq20QQWe3vtREC6k69JGFRarrYiplRiqezl_EPc329oASpCC5ybtfulsJS1Ie2smrqil9a6x2mExFVzBbaOkWBl3LnqnHSWMfkW1q9_W0yd0nw0LGf1Drz1f-H/s320/CIMG4751.JPG" /></a><br /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBs7VJzu5RQQhrOgX_5bAoHv9Mwx52YQgia7SrqwJcV9LP__mBFQx0EKm4WCdZwNhzK4nyhLECkJHPsSoGNNY_DSIJIBig7en-pz66K6Uc7jki61KBLoduwTf6O2put_ns7bozKG6lGTc3/s1600-h/CIMG4749.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431228579591732706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBs7VJzu5RQQhrOgX_5bAoHv9Mwx52YQgia7SrqwJcV9LP__mBFQx0EKm4WCdZwNhzK4nyhLECkJHPsSoGNNY_DSIJIBig7en-pz66K6Uc7jki61KBLoduwTf6O2put_ns7bozKG6lGTc3/s320/CIMG4749.JPG" /></a><br /></p><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AADEbROqLNya2P6NdtHLWzXUseb2ANNOpqajLZAhvMwmqwL2UlfM8ShGDldMD_2oHRosMtF1KXMfVkPvn8_beS-UaYVTNDBTC-bkAconG2JCJvHtstaBTuCxNJJMpRmLpiTbHr6ls2LD/s1600-h/CIMG4740.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431231104238595394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AADEbROqLNya2P6NdtHLWzXUseb2ANNOpqajLZAhvMwmqwL2UlfM8ShGDldMD_2oHRosMtF1KXMfVkPvn8_beS-UaYVTNDBTC-bkAconG2JCJvHtstaBTuCxNJJMpRmLpiTbHr6ls2LD/s320/CIMG4740.JPG" /></a>Laughing at daddy as he jumps to reach the balloon!!<br /></p><p align="right">Dancing!!! <img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431231111393357234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhso0Ly1kcwLH0w_MfVCiuxLJiMMCm933i7AEEXvRNgWzpR_H0cIE_ZZRx28CxPZBT0U-Inm6-h-yPfzvxvOagrhD56cSv4SrbH81LVZCvUk8mtIrQsUlbO1yzSeb1o9ynLk4-BR9OKsb_/s320/CIMG4774.JPG" /><br /></p><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGEG01dPtzDlG8dN-_mZwxCCqePU-U3ZVm7o23uW-39tHqhb9ryxKKPiQGkQU7f7hBF3vBabTD-ZVkFQUaz15fI7yxf-OQmekzw_ryYJj8RuSrNwY9mtotmCtXEuPOb9b2qAP-65URruC/s1600-h/CIMG4709.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431232778312532834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGEG01dPtzDlG8dN-_mZwxCCqePU-U3ZVm7o23uW-39tHqhb9ryxKKPiQGkQU7f7hBF3vBabTD-ZVkFQUaz15fI7yxf-OQmekzw_ryYJj8RuSrNwY9mtotmCtXEuPOb9b2qAP-65URruC/s320/CIMG4709.JPG" /></a>Wearing...I mean eating...her food!</p><div><br /><br /></div><p align="right">The never-ending stinky poopy faces!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowFUkVVJ2dQoBh0WYNaEzDYd874SYkDK4RCk9NEFR7DiEtIH6vL-r3zfcjKSR2gV43uVr8Cxg3FK_GtFVVGCna2OVM7gYOMglloumqTSDZ-VNcpVJUV9EOa1ApXSACuCFHpGJooAPphh6/s1600-h/CIMG4735.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431232788550331330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowFUkVVJ2dQoBh0WYNaEzDYd874SYkDK4RCk9NEFR7DiEtIH6vL-r3zfcjKSR2gV43uVr8Cxg3FK_GtFVVGCna2OVM7gYOMglloumqTSDZ-VNcpVJUV9EOa1ApXSACuCFHpGJooAPphh6/s320/CIMG4735.JPG" /></a><br /></p><p align="left">We did make time to admire Kayla, the newest member of our family. </p><div><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431235334868194434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjxLfyd3mXXTiT7oG6Nk38-6Cmg-xSLctnY62nQ8blRw0i0WkOUxRA-7yDVUUR79i7-jdm5IWLHU_yWHqQX-iQuaoCzY0SJBKNALjRDJmHy0GVOuYEB3lUM1P7R5Kbt8UB64ca_5yDZH_/s320/CIMG4753.JPG" /><br /><br /></div><div></div><p align="right"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGy0GbedhDpi1qFWq2Z5WY_jjXEsKmhUIdkZGYPcMK-PSdsxEGJhjwz3aPIkcUaJ0gpKG6rU4O74F9LjAa3kGvDfFcROmX_jFK5ilrxgMt8mSTdpolb6ThEKyC04gO7o4jPj_IrjLKF9Yp/s1600-h/CIMG4758.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431235338036245474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGy0GbedhDpi1qFWq2Z5WY_jjXEsKmhUIdkZGYPcMK-PSdsxEGJhjwz3aPIkcUaJ0gpKG6rU4O74F9LjAa3kGvDfFcROmX_jFK5ilrxgMt8mSTdpolb6ThEKyC04gO7o4jPj_IrjLKF9Yp/s320/CIMG4758.JPG" /></a></p><div><br />Overall, I am one pooped nana....and I loved every single minute of it! Audrey and I had a lot of together time while mommy and daddy were off having a baby. I re-learned how to carry a wriggly child along with a purse, groceries and a sippy cup and walk up a flight of stairs. Some how you forget how busy kids are, how they are non-stop action from morning to night. How they get into EVERYTHING!! I miss those days. I really do. And I truly learned why we have our kids young....we needed the energy!!</div><div></div><div>Many thanks to the men in my life. To Stan for not complaining about me being gone so long. To Matt for staying at the house to be with Megan when Stan had to travel....and also while we were all gone over Christmas, for staying at the house to watch the dog. You both are wonderful!! Thank you.<br /></div><div>And thanks to Melissa and Mark for putting up with me. For giving us such beautiful, wonderful grandbabies!! I'm so proud of both of you! </div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhso0Ly1kcwLH0w_MfVCiuxLJiMMCm933i7AEEXvRNgWzpR_H0cIE_ZZRx28CxPZBT0U-Inm6-h-yPfzvxvOagrhD56cSv4SrbH81LVZCvUk8mtIrQsUlbO1yzSeb1o9ynLk4-BR9OKsb_/s1600-h/CIMG4774.JPG"></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-47727516890471447862009-12-11T09:08:00.000-08:002009-12-11T11:18:43.850-08:00Our Wedding DayTwenty-seven years ago at this exact time, I was in tears, and would continue to cry off and on all day. I woke up to rain...on my wedding day....rain....in December.....because in Mississippi, we rarely get snow. My oldest sister, Charlotte, took me out for breakfast at Denny's (it's now gone thanks to Hurricane Katrina). I remember sitting there, looking out at the pouring rain and feeling so depressed. How could it be raining? How? The ceremony was starting at 7:00 pm so maybe, just maybe, the rain would go away! But no. A couple of hours later, I was getting my hair done and the rain was still coming down in buckets. I had long, straight hair down to my waist, and everything the stylist tried to do to my hair, it eventually just fell limp because of the moisture in the air. She finally pulled back some hair and the rest she twisted up and held it there by bobby pins and lots of hairspray. I was to take it all out later, at the church, so that my hair would still have some ringlets and a little bit of body. On the way home from the salon, with my sister, Donna, I just started crying again over the rain. Stan called to check up on me. I'm still upset and he wants to come over to comfort me. Yeah right. First I didn't want him to see me until the ceremony (I kicked him out of my house the night before at 11:59 pm), plus I'm sitting there, in ratty clothes, with my hair looking ridiculous, my eyes very red from no sleep and crying. Yeah, come on over and see what you're marrying!! This ought to be good. But I convinced him that I was fine and that he was to stay away. His mom told me that rain on your wedding day is supposed to be good luck. At the time I didn't know if she was just saying that to calm me down or if it really was a good luck charm, but since I've heard that a few times over the years, and lets face it, we have been married for twenty-seven years, maybe she was telling me the truth. <div><br />So I stopped crying. Got rid of the red eyes. Began to focus on what needed to be done. It was still raining when we arrived at the church. I'm getting ready in one room, with my bridesmaids and my mom and my future mom-in-law....Stan is in another with his crew getting ready. As the time is getting near to go walk down the aisle, I hear <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">a lot</span> of laughter coming from the other room. I only found out what was happening after we were looking through our wedding photos, and there was Stan, in his tux, laying on a table, arms crossed over his chest, with all his groomsmen standing around holding the table up, you know... like he was dead now since he's about to marry. And then there's Larry, Stan's brother-in-law, with his head bowed and his hands covering his eyes, "weeping" over the loss of yet another male about to enter holy matrimony! Thanks, guys. Appreciate it. Really I do. </div><div><br />Now back to the serious stuff. </div><div><br />Time to get to the back of the church, where I would wait in the foyer until it was time to start down that aisle. The next problem? The only two ways to get to that back foyer was to walk inside the sanctuary or walk outside to get to it. And it's still raining. And I'm in my dress. Rain and wedding dresses to not mix. So we walk to the sanctuary entrance in the front, and someone (don't remember who did this) went inside to make the announcement that due to the rain, the bride was coming in this way and to "please close your eyes until she is out of sight. No peeking please!". Then my bridesmaids made a circle around me, and in we walked. We were laughing, telling people to keep their eyes closed! Pretty funny. </div><div><br />Time for Stan and our pastor, who is my future dad-in-law, to stand up front. Stan is wearing a white tux, standing so straight, waiting for the wedding party to walk in. Instead of a center aisle, this church had two side aisles. We were walking up the left one, and then after the ceremony, we walked back down the right one. Time for the bride and her dad to walk in. I remember being so nervous, clutching my dad's arm tight. I had a bouquet of white silk roses, along with two red silk roses. On the way up to the altar, I stopped to kiss my mom and give her a rose. After the ceremony, I would be stopping again to give a rose to my new mom also. </div><div><br />Finally it was time to stand up there with Stan. As we held hands for the first time that day, I realized that I wasn't so nervous any more. I know that Stan had his share of nerves that day too since his hands were ice cold. We stood there before God and family and friends, and vowed that we would love each other forever and ever.</div><div><br />And now, twenty-seven years later, I am still as deeply in love with my husband as I was then. I love the life that we made together. I wouldn't change a thing. The struggles and hard times only helped us grow into who we are today. We have always been there for each other. He's been the one constant in my life, the one I can always count on no matter what. He makes me laugh. He makes me cry (usually the good kind). He's romantic! He's a wonderful father and grandfather. He's an awesome provider for his family. He's the most annoying, frustrating man ever! He's perfect....for me!! </div><div><br />Stan, I thank you for giving me so many wonderful memories. For loving me. For always being there for me. For being my best friend. For spending your life with me. For being such a good dad to our children. For putting up with me and all the times that I annoy you. I can't wait to see how much more annoying we will be when we are in our rocking chairs. </div><div><br />"Grow old with me. The best is yet to come!"</div><div><br />Happy Anniversary!</div><div></div><div></div><div>I love you.<br /></div><div></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUQJ7FsafMQDh8ZzWnqnTGmfcInRxUuckNs6lPoXpAGZrTbrAmHn68UTI40LpaPIuwgW08WqoJ0d7KUcW9IQHDgMszeP4sgQxKD3HOovonRfAKtlIprA7BFGtvsJFUqeXfROGutrWAb_g/s1600-h/CIMG4543.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414057607516314002" style="WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUQJ7FsafMQDh8ZzWnqnTGmfcInRxUuckNs6lPoXpAGZrTbrAmHn68UTI40LpaPIuwgW08WqoJ0d7KUcW9IQHDgMszeP4sgQxKD3HOovonRfAKtlIprA7BFGtvsJFUqeXfROGutrWAb_g/s320/CIMG4543.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></p><p align="center"></p><div></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414057614875349234" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfptosbTrh3T0Z7SWAJ4HxsxC7uE8JRGHXkGRY9M2UspY2Yu4DfLJHcIy6pUxGGzhoA-CaIK_8uZZfhqu9OvhrnT0SkYpknihwgqPvHNPeYWbe6TzzNAX_tbql2esU6tQnXJhLecBY_B5D/s320/CIMG4547.JPG" border="0" /><br /></p><div></div>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-83476119319492857372009-11-27T20:38:00.000-08:002009-11-27T21:07:19.895-08:00You're Sleeping On The Couch, Bucko!!Even after all our years together (it will be 27 years on Dec. 11), we have never been the kind to get soooo mad at each other where we say "here's the pillow and there's the couch". I mean, first of all, if I was THAT mad at Stan why would I even give him a pillow!! Now, I'm not saying that we have never gone to bed mad at each other....I'm sure we have....a few times....mostly because he's wrong about something....but at least we have slept in the same bed. <br /><br />Over the last couple of nights, he has been sleeping on the couch. And I am all snuggly in our big king-size bed. And it's not even because he was wrong about something or that I am mad at him. He's sick. He started getting sick on Wednesday, which was our Thanksgiving Day (celebrated a day early since Matt was off). By the time we had eaten our dinner with Matt, Amber and Chase, he was coughing and sneezing up a storm!! It truly sucked. Stan doesn't get sick often, so you know he feels bad when he's taking medicine without whining about it. As soon as he lays down, the hacking starts. I thinks he hacked up both lungs by now and is working on his other organs! After about 5 minutes of staying in bed, he gets up and goes to the couch. He says he doesn't want to keep me awake (which is really sweet of him, but not necessary). <br /><br />So he's had a couple of rough nights while I've had that big bed all to myself. And I keep thinking to myself that I should pick a fight with him so that I can say...in all seriousness..."That's it!!! You're sleeping on the couch, Bucko!" I really hope he starts to feel better soon...I really do. But it sure would be kinda cool to use that line once in awhile!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-38421778802025531722009-11-17T20:15:00.000-08:002009-11-17T21:12:25.425-08:00Winter WonderlandOver the weekend, we had a snowstorm come to town! And I loved it. I love the snow. I love the cold. I love snuggling up with a blanket and watching sports or a good movie on TV. Here in Colorado, the snow is just beautiful, and I'm sure it's just as beautiful elsewhere. This snowstorm was no different than any other. It lasted a couple of days...this time we got about 8 inches of snow. The mountains are just amazing with their white-capped tops. I love seeing the fresh snow on trees, bushes and grass. I love how sparkling the snow seems. I love the purity of it as it is falling. I also love the fact that we are usually not stranded too long before it's okay to start venturing out again. Once the sun comes out, the roads dry off fast.<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17JG-lI-b2wS1ICk4fIBroWkvtnm6bL7GoSk2QL1TTfdJyQ4KzWBtQaHTAyNowEAQS9KTSWmccdOCoLv_4kTpfMWA1VgTYc-kWXB8OCGZ54XYK7o0oXfmHpSCCj2RASPQt-6lXy0rkuhj/s1600/CIMG4520.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405304739972111314" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17JG-lI-b2wS1ICk4fIBroWkvtnm6bL7GoSk2QL1TTfdJyQ4KzWBtQaHTAyNowEAQS9KTSWmccdOCoLv_4kTpfMWA1VgTYc-kWXB8OCGZ54XYK7o0oXfmHpSCCj2RASPQt-6lXy0rkuhj/s320/CIMG4520.JPG" border="0" /></a></p>That's what I love about snow.<br /><div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF55HzPolCy8UGDXHqDmWbICX0IaF_v9RH-eYfF-hCFG6MSMXVaFg1enNuDlwE92ny2g0orBhoxFWJnBtTxMCBNADnWXY361btWCXKiTdZagOytBPoAfCnqL8kKZq0uH_M2IQrHNz1aTk2/s1600/CIMG4521.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405304984292390738" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF55HzPolCy8UGDXHqDmWbICX0IaF_v9RH-eYfF-hCFG6MSMXVaFg1enNuDlwE92ny2g0orBhoxFWJnBtTxMCBNADnWXY361btWCXKiTdZagOytBPoAfCnqL8kKZq0uH_M2IQrHNz1aTk2/s320/CIMG4521.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div>This is what I don't love about it so much. I don't like how dirty it gets as the plows come out and move it. It turns dirty and clumpy. If I'm going to be stranded indoors, I'd rather Stan be here. It's always nice to have someone you love to snuggle with. The kids usually frown on me trying to snuggle with them. Go figure. Megan (and probably most kids) doesn't like it when the snow comes on the weekend. What good is a snowstorm if it doesn't get you out of school?? I don't much like driving in the snow either. I'm a nervous driver and even a more nervous passenger. I drive Stan nuts when he's driving in the snow. He has NO fear and I have way too much!! And the shoveling. The shoveling makes me sore for days. I am definitely getting too old for it. But once the shoveling is done, it feels nice to see a job well done and then go back into our nice warm house. </div><div><br />Overall, my love for the snow outweighs my dislikes of it. I have family (I won't name names... cough....Mike...cough...) that completely shudders at the thought of the cold or snow. To them, if the temperature dips below 70, it's time to bring out the parka, mittens and hat!! </div><div><br />But the best thing about the snow for me is that I get to take pictures of my husband dressed like this: </div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405305435403328450" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUuV9dj7emVqtH1-qbRc8maFc5O4A635qdpgvACQEldYE4oEuzCzkBvG0F-f_kLjyoK6osPiBQYhtwDpShhiPdIXPj2CC8HScFtFYse69_qiUe7Ug1veO0YIdzdm653ZbZiQlIwhzUqFY/s320/CIMG4522.JPG" border="0" /><br /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RIoy0MoF4SYNvC327V5JxKa0UqW9kOLlNPpqnXCrGhkJ0CDGfxSx_tMcFPO3llfqN96PA8YWWBaFjIuOtWGEDnxx1CBwjCu43aIEXWNlOKTLdlkjMk3q52MIGvcGrah2MbNuJ6P4HZHn/s1600/CIMG4523.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405305232926528194" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RIoy0MoF4SYNvC327V5JxKa0UqW9kOLlNPpqnXCrGhkJ0CDGfxSx_tMcFPO3llfqN96PA8YWWBaFjIuOtWGEDnxx1CBwjCu43aIEXWNlOKTLdlkjMk3q52MIGvcGrah2MbNuJ6P4HZHn/s320/CIMG4523.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div>In public. For the whole neighborhood to see. Priceless!! Warms my heart!!</div></div>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-58542032500831547662009-10-07T13:15:00.000-07:002009-10-07T14:42:56.887-07:00The Tooth Fairy 1990Our oldest daughter lost her first baby tooth at age five. It's one of those moments that just melts your heart. You look at this child of yours and think that she was just a baby yesterday. And now she is losing teeth?? Incredible!!<br /><br />As with most first-time parents, we looked forward to the time when we'd get to play with her mind!! Like... yes, sweetie, there is a Santa, or Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy. And if you keep your room clean, they will come!! Such fun. Everyone should try it.<br /><br />She lost her tooth on a Saturday afternoon. It was actually the week after she started kindergarten. First leaving me to learn and now losing teeth??? No way!<br /><br />We wrapped the tooth in a tissue so that it wouldn't get lost (and easy for me...I mean... the tooth fairy to find), put it under her pillow and off to la la land she went. My husband and I had the dollar out that we would put under her pillow. It really was exciting for us. I couldn't wait to sneak in her room, take the tooth and put the dollar in its place.<br /><br />But....as with most well thought out plans, ours had a slight problem that we hadn't counted on. You see....we're morons. Yep...too dumb to procreate. We watched TV, like always, and then went off to bed. And never, ever, thought about that dollar laying on the coffee table, waiting to be put under our little girls pillow. So we went to sleep...and slept very well.<br /><br />The next morning at about 7:00 am, I was awaken by Melissa. She had tears in her eyes as she held out her hand to me, which was holding the tissue wrapped tooth, and in the saddest whisper I had ever heard, said..."She didn't come". It really was such a sad moment. She was devastated. I held out my arms for her and gave her a big hug. I told her that Saturdays was just THE busiest night for the Tooth Fairy and that she just didn't have enough time to get to everyone! But that if she doesn't get to you the first night, she WILL come the second night. She NEVER misses two nights in a row and that you always get extra stuff if you have to wait for the second night. After our daughter left the room, I immediately turned on my husband and said..."look at what YOU did". Life is all about assessing blame, right, Stan??<br /><br />I went shopping that day for anything that would make that little girl smile again. That night, we put the tooth back under her pillow. And nothing, but nothing, was going to make me (us) forget again. By morning, she had candy, a toy and extra money under her pillow. And we were awaken by a very happy little girl who couldn't wait to show us her loot.<br /><br />Even morons can make things right again!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-17301196081125821032009-09-06T07:32:00.000-07:002009-09-16T16:03:19.500-07:00Ode to My HusbandA couple of weeks ago my husband wrote about being impulsive. How he acts or buys on impulse. And this is so very true. He sees something and the next thing you know, he has one. Or he's unhappy with something, he instantly does something to try to change that. I have to say that for the most part, these decisions work out for the best. It may make me a wee bit nervous (like job changes or no paycheck for a few months...little things like that), but everything turns out good. For my part in his impulsiveness, I go along with him. Lets face it....when he's impulsive....I make out like a bandit!!!<br /><br />So I've been thinking back over our history together. Thinking of ways that he has given in to this impulsive side...and how I went along with him. Here's what I've come up with, in no particular order:<br /><br />--His Spitfire convertible. It was a 2-seater, small, and not good in snow....he lived in Colorado at the time.<br /><p>--The blue house with ugly brown toilets. We were moving to Alabama. He went looking for a house for us to rent. He had 3 days to look. He settled on this horrible little house after looking for only a couple of hours on the first day. He called me to say that he found a house that he thought I would like, but that if I didn't like it we would only be living in it for a year. I didn't like it. And he's still hearing about it fifteen years later. </p><p>--Trees on our hillside. After building our house and landscaping the yard, a man was driving down our street selling trees from the back of his truck. Stan immediately decided that we needed those trees in the overgrown weed-infested hillside behind our home. He bought four trees. From a man in a truck. All four trees: dead.</p><p>--The 300 ZX. We were living in Ohio. He was in D.C. on a 3-month TDY. I was in town visiting him. I was pregnant with our first child. He came home to the hotel we were staying at with a 300 ZX. Yep, he was driving by the car lot...saw the car...gave them a down payment...drove it off the lot. Problem? It was a two-seater. Other problem? Hello? I'm pregnant! Where is the baby going to sit?? His response? NO PROBLEM....there's a luggage rack in the back!!! My response? We got his deposit back. </p><p>--The big-screen TV. We stopped by an auto parts store for a lightbulb for the headlight for his car. They were telling us that none of the bulbs they used were working, therefore we must have a short in the electrical system. They ran test after test. We got tired of sitting there. Walked down to his favorite electronics store. As we were browsing, Stan ended up in the home theater section. Within minutes of the salesman seeing him coming, we had a new 60 inch flat screen TV to be delivered to our house. Walked back to the auto parts store. They still hadn't figured out what was wrong with the car. Told them we would take the car to the dealer. Paid for the lightbulb. Turned out the auto store was using the wrong bulb. The dealer replaced the bulb with the correct one. Headlights work. Yep, we call the TV our $4,000 lightbulb!! </p><p>--Rav 4. He decided he needed a new car. Test drove this one car. Bought it. Hated it. Traded it. Car lasted only a few months with us. </p><p>--My wedding band set. Lets face it. He wanted to buy me a much bigger diamond set. I am NOT going to say no! Not happening!!!</p><p>--Theater seats. After moving Megan into her new room and moving the guest room furniture around, I was setting myself up in the loft. I just needed a new desk and chair. We went to the furniture store. Looked at desks. Found one I liked. On our way to the order the desk, Stan went to the theater section. We bought my desk and chair....along with seven theater chairs!! Why seven?? I have no earthly idea. </p><p>--Our lot. We were just out walking. Walked by an area that was just starting to be built up. Within hours, we were with a realtor, deciding on which lot to buy. Of course, we are still on the lot, living in my dream house!! Can't complain too much about that. </p><p>I'm sure there are lots of other stories and examples. I'm sure I have my own issues with this dreaded disease. But I am sure that I have told him "no" many times. And just as many times, he has not heard me!!</p>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-85349581922614496972009-08-27T19:34:00.000-07:002009-08-28T08:38:59.793-07:00To my G-Baby....With LoveLast week was such a fun week! My daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter came for a whole week!! The reason? Audrey had her first birthday!!! It was a fun, hectic, wonderful, tiring, happy time!!!! I can't believe she's one! Where did the time go? This amazing little girl joined our family August 19, 2008.<br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374841696203118418" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqx-nTDh0aYYowCZFwRNeEqXoO-osJtvdmXQctpFwI0-VbLml1D9BrY-3K9WObCFRLTqXaBkmbRbJQEfxhdPSCWsswjW1nJ56Z7xlznGIJj-mGFYfnnVnEh06MLSxATuzwEUYxhYuXnMCl/s320/Audrey+is+here!" border="0" /></p><div><br /></div><div>She was just beautiful!! She spent two days in the NICU, scared us all, but was still absolutely perfect!! I remember standing outside the nursery window, watching my baby with her baby, and just feeling so completely overwhelmed with love. Love for my daughter as she started this new journey as a mommy. Love for my son-in-law as he watched over Audrey, making sure she was well taken care of by the nurses. I remember my first glimpse of Audrey. It was through the nursery window. Only parents were allowed in the nursery. But after a couple of hours of us standing there with our noses pressed to the glass (and Audrey having some breathing problems), the nurse came out and said that we could go in, one at a time, to see our little baby before they took her to the NICU. Just touching her was wonderful. We couldn't hold her, but I remember just touching her head and her hand and feeling so amazed that this was my granddaughter!! And how awesome it was!</div><div><br /></div><div>These are two of my favorite pictures from the day she was born:<br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxczKeyY_6E5EJiHK8ivO51GW7jZY0ZH9x0WzpeKFB5wBGqNUUdCJAK_3LSPuIDRsLqHOy6LaFOIvD67ClJrFjaxInut-tkT0kOdj8AmB59Ufl869K00IxnP_WpVHZPtoVGZBWH398AEN/s1600-h/Melissa+and+Audrey+Sue.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374851619165313362" style="WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxczKeyY_6E5EJiHK8ivO51GW7jZY0ZH9x0WzpeKFB5wBGqNUUdCJAK_3LSPuIDRsLqHOy6LaFOIvD67ClJrFjaxInut-tkT0kOdj8AmB59Ufl869K00IxnP_WpVHZPtoVGZBWH398AEN/s320/Melissa+and+Audrey+Sue.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdHXXGn8O1G1qLuGQfHRJ6WSCZyaaeCLX4es0cHo2cd2_yKWbrgO-8KhrDODr8Miv6mqQsxEUFqV4AIqA1QXE-nHKmklY_oFznQoWewJAs6RR0aY96dBU2bc2yu7I5owQXDb1LwaMtkQZ/s1600-h/holding+fingers"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374852218648359714" style="WIDTH: 227px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdHXXGn8O1G1qLuGQfHRJ6WSCZyaaeCLX4es0cHo2cd2_yKWbrgO-8KhrDODr8Miv6mqQsxEUFqV4AIqA1QXE-nHKmklY_oFznQoWewJAs6RR0aY96dBU2bc2yu7I5owQXDb1LwaMtkQZ/s320/holding+fingers" border="0" /></a></p><div>Melissa holding her daughter. And Audrey holding her daddy's finger. Such wonderful love.</div><div><br /></div><div>Over this last year we have watched Audrey grow and develop. Her first smiles. The first time she rolled over. Her first tooth. Sitting all by herself. Laughing at her funny faces over the new foods she ate. Playing with toys. Standing. Walking. Watching her do all the motions to the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" song. Blowing kisses! Showing us her belly button. </div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUFQD3zrmzETbWLu0IWu0aFQpG4HRnPNdgpDm67ryU3CMZPWZjNVkYN_7EGl4Y9IIWZzyUkw1Ae6P7q3OzIkfJEe-ad4-kq6ygk0y4_dKY5Ty-i4FBvIdfJ2GdZ-6KC5G8SWgDRBO1PLlr/s1600-h/g-nana+sweater+set"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375038510194364434" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUFQD3zrmzETbWLu0IWu0aFQpG4HRnPNdgpDm67ryU3CMZPWZjNVkYN_7EGl4Y9IIWZzyUkw1Ae6P7q3OzIkfJEe-ad4-kq6ygk0y4_dKY5Ty-i4FBvIdfJ2GdZ-6KC5G8SWgDRBO1PLlr/s320/g-nana+sweater+set" border="0" /></a><br /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-avk-YKTHEgJWK0jG2oBw2Nf5uf0JXyTpCYSly-H7cxDWzC7nMBRPxa-SEoC62jpWF5siMD1or8hPXF50bJWjsfaIie2HXI-8-qT-TrY8izUQsD3C5uoEwYKUyqE6fB9r1r3R8_LsBIi6/s1600-h/Audrey+and+cake"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374858328733752322" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-avk-YKTHEgJWK0jG2oBw2Nf5uf0JXyTpCYSly-H7cxDWzC7nMBRPxa-SEoC62jpWF5siMD1or8hPXF50bJWjsfaIie2HXI-8-qT-TrY8izUQsD3C5uoEwYKUyqE6fB9r1r3R8_LsBIi6/s320/Audrey+and+cake" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left">To my g-baby:</p><div>You have brought such joy to our family. You have truly been a blessing. And you are loved so very much. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Happy 1st Birthday! </div>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-23177683903331591352009-08-12T18:14:00.000-07:002009-08-12T19:16:58.852-07:00Ode to a SquirrelToday, as Megan and I were out doing our errands, we came to a crossroad with a squirrel. I was going one way....he was going the other way. No problems. Everything is just fine and dandy! That is until the brain-dead squirrel decided that my way was obviously the better way! So he decided to just run in front of me. <br /><br />Now, most people may not pay too much attention to squirrels on their journeys through life. But I come from a family that pays real close attention to squirrels. And we have for years now. It started with my dad. To make a long, kinda scary story shorter and less scary, it goes something like this: dad had pecan trees...squirrels like pecans...shed...hiding...bb gun...fur flying.... Just kidding about that last part ( I hope ). Anyway, whenever we see a squirrel, we rev the engines and gun for that pecan-eating beast. Even though we have never seen a pecan tree in Colorado (but I've never really looked for one), it makes Dad so proud. <br /><br />So today, when that squirrel ran in front of me, all I could think about was missing it! I know...I know. What about my loyalty to my dad? What will he think of me? How did I go so wrong??? But just when I think I've missed it, I hear a thunk and a bump! OH CRAP!!! I hit it! Does anyone else hear cheers coming from the deep South????<br /><br />I covered my mouth...eyes wide.....looked at Megan....she's laughing. LAUGHING! She just stepped into the favorite granddaughter position!! I was afraid to look in the rear view mirror. I didn't want to see it. I really didn't mean to hit it....didn't mean him any harm. Then just before I pull onto our street, Megan says "maybe he is stuck under the car"! WHAT??? Are you kidding me? Can that really happen? I made her check when we parked but no squirrel. Whew! <br /><br />Now, my story could end there. But after we were home for a little bit, we had to go back out. And we had to go past the scene of the crime. And what did we see? Nothing. No dead squirrel laying on the pavement with his feet pointing up and tongue hanging out. So the question is where is the squirrel? I know I hit it. But now I'm thinking that maybe I didn't kill it. So that's what I'm going to think. He just ran off into the woods (or someones backyard..whatever) and is happily eating someones pecans! <br /><br />I just hope that someone doesn't have a shed...hiding....waiting......Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-2899056283238847952009-07-22T12:23:00.000-07:002009-07-22T14:27:40.169-07:00Well, there goes all MY fun!Over the last couple of months, there's been a dip in the road in front of our house that has gradually gotten pretty big and deep. It's off-centered so cars going in one direction usually miss it. But cars going in the other direction usually hit it. The hole had gotten so deep that anyone going too fast (and with the speed limit 20 on our street, that's mostly everyone), bounced up in the air after hitting it. It was like a speed bump but only reversed!! It became a spectator sport for us to sit on our porch and see who was going to hit it next. It was quite amusing. Once, a lawn care truck with all his equipment hitched to it came flying by. The hitch went airborne and hit back down with a heavy bang. Like I said, very funny!!<br /><br />Well, it's over. Look at what they (meaning whoever goes around filling in potholes) did to my fun???<br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbJBmYBulTy6iIRAyg6TsnUiBrRwXmXvGtHolRKwrBONGX0VqPCmIOTJTKTgo4Y8ThozzWVikdQp4cKzr6eLGVimYsyLhQNv0fiCOTBisXhx3XPkfzhEDCQ2EVCpmD-D2gVVMBxNTATV4/s1600-h/CIMG3964.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361375736698042578" style="WIDTH: 294px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbJBmYBulTy6iIRAyg6TsnUiBrRwXmXvGtHolRKwrBONGX0VqPCmIOTJTKTgo4Y8ThozzWVikdQp4cKzr6eLGVimYsyLhQNv0fiCOTBisXhx3XPkfzhEDCQ2EVCpmD-D2gVVMBxNTATV4/s320/CIMG3964.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br />That's right....a filled in hole puts an end to all my fun! Now I'm gonna have to find something or someone else to make fun of.Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-17196222326039258302009-07-13T18:13:00.000-07:002009-07-13T19:46:43.574-07:00A Few Weeks in PicturesThe last few weeks have been hectic. We've had family come in for a visit. Melissa, Mark and Audrey visited with us the end of May. And they brought with them news of a new little one, due in January. Then we've been traveling to see family. My three sisters and I decided to surprise my dad for July 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>. So we spread the word. My dad has four daughters, four sons-in-law, eight <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">grandchildren</span>, two <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">grandchildren</span>-in-law, and four great-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">grandchildren</span>. And for a few weeks, EVERYONE was going to be there. It was exciting planning it. Of course, there was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">alot</span> of "lying" to my dad (sorry,Dad). As the time grew closer though, we had a few things pop up that prevented some of us from attending. It was sad. So I just wanted to say to my Matt, Amber, Chase, Niki, her Matt, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Caden</span>, Tony and Mike that we wish you could have been there and that you all were missed so much!! My dad had a blast with two of his great-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">grandchildren</span>. Audrey and Amie had fun playing and getting into trouble. It would have been wonderful getting all four of the babies together. Oh well, maybe next time. <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>We did manage to surprise my dad. And after he got over the shock of all of us invading his home, I think he was thrilled to have us all there. It was so worth all the planning, emailing and driving (and boy, did I do <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">alot</span> of driving these last six weeks) just to see my dad surrounded by his family. And, Dad, I hope you enjoyed it as much as we all did. We love you!! </div><div><br /></div><div>And to my wonderful mom and dad-in-law, thanks for the visits. It's always so sweet to see you with your grandchildren and great-grandchild. We love you!<br /></div><div>And now for the pictures. Enjoy.</div><div></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358132712336510162" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWNVd6ClWRf4e1vsSncuO8QhQVJKnmADuQ0TGb3cebPfhsV6nvXb7zsZsAuMgtXzB9FVz31GKwqxEhXRRxWcB8Kz32aja3zqmjfGmPUrNO23necbEkUDL6Wm8o63XQtfyDwc-87gyG15s/s320/CIMG3700.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358133325409492546" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4YdHqDnzKl7ZwvbQoRB5-BpUOjG-AFqKdkX-oU7dH3uNEkBYR1laRjifRCMhrS34kLA9DFewlr__3rhTvL7WUxMW2dg0ggnyx4XKkCLayRPVR-OMXCZ6T0CKAuu69goEPb5o5JJp_jPoq/s320/CIMG3703.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdA8D1un7r6IS7gDlIL8Kts0rS_-gJ8rGKA_fmD_YaE8XBB8s-sAqyaZGtqS1E7vQDbyWVPz4sAEDIfD4ZE_I0Mmoe2Vjoafc8t0R5TvP4hyVzm1PkEMZll2aWVCSh4vRxFhbGEaGU8Hv/s1600-h/CIMG3662.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358134606737823650" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdA8D1un7r6IS7gDlIL8Kts0rS_-gJ8rGKA_fmD_YaE8XBB8s-sAqyaZGtqS1E7vQDbyWVPz4sAEDIfD4ZE_I0Mmoe2Vjoafc8t0R5TvP4hyVzm1PkEMZll2aWVCSh4vRxFhbGEaGU8Hv/s320/CIMG3662.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358135228202550466" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlJTTOlO2_vB_sM8Bo1jDxcnTkhU-71-pe4K96boKUx6_tPT5rVBTC3YJLJtz4jDUrpD7eEHqxqQZx9Ri6kvgrNyqBNJjOf1PpXP4ciTTyloiU-u1Lvx04bCq7ZMmWlUGjQ1xcSEWOhhq/s320/CIMG3936.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8l-Z1No1eRYF1zoeZDZROT5uNdwU93rXe6f19wbM47ol96z75YmkjTWj1RLRl3Tq0tyvnRosLqVsAD3KVsGWNX0oUszfLSDLiyjwVs3KB2aHIN8LpwOeMfo3ezgIgF1v7K23g919rLxA/s1600-h/CIMG3878.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358135809680617250" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8l-Z1No1eRYF1zoeZDZROT5uNdwU93rXe6f19wbM47ol96z75YmkjTWj1RLRl3Tq0tyvnRosLqVsAD3KVsGWNX0oUszfLSDLiyjwVs3KB2aHIN8LpwOeMfo3ezgIgF1v7K23g919rLxA/s320/CIMG3878.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHVbO78QwyNo4EH9yy8IGSxlXrSpw4K-CN1JCh8A6WqAm6kHBDLGZPPPObebhEADbzGFkSkNmKd6aYROawBracL4Vwy30562hTzte5vj8xcSjFO5CNHyoPwyHL71qZLQfVwIrFAtsOKe8b/s1600-h/CIMG3790.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358136384504968578" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHVbO78QwyNo4EH9yy8IGSxlXrSpw4K-CN1JCh8A6WqAm6kHBDLGZPPPObebhEADbzGFkSkNmKd6aYROawBracL4Vwy30562hTzte5vj8xcSjFO5CNHyoPwyHL71qZLQfVwIrFAtsOKe8b/s320/CIMG3790.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358136979581828354" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmeT0sNsm3fUElG7TfqNLkThSA9fcJcranlOsSi5Oka9rfxdqE_LLqbwSH6cOo_xvg-GL_0kq22Mneo2pVeEm_L01Md9QqwPlv08eZYCuGZ3wRuwnJq4g5EBLwQMr4CmQTHxR-fE5KnJje/s320/CIMG3892.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJtn9EwEcNSt98I3YV8EWh_LFPlw2hf0s7PZ3woxosIc8DwxZXQ9cqrm3e4FxAnhNAv2D1-p738j46iP8RX9orV3oJjaVs6uIuCzgh0c1cM3MxgiPjtO-pL7byYUst-cBhL42y_Oxe3E6E/s1600-h/CIMG3954.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358137735498062802" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJtn9EwEcNSt98I3YV8EWh_LFPlw2hf0s7PZ3woxosIc8DwxZXQ9cqrm3e4FxAnhNAv2D1-p738j46iP8RX9orV3oJjaVs6uIuCzgh0c1cM3MxgiPjtO-pL7byYUst-cBhL42y_Oxe3E6E/s320/CIMG3954.JPG" border="0" /></a></p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-91854965588592760962009-06-23T08:47:00.000-07:002009-06-23T08:54:08.741-07:00Payback, Baby!!!After worrying over if I had offended my mom-in-law with my blog yesterday, I checked my email just now and had a surprising message from her:<br /><br />"Please go ahead and knock his block off. Gee enough is a enough. He was not raised like that! He has gone beyond being funny. Its time you had pay back.<br /> LOve MOM"<br /><br />I'm still laughing!! <br /><br />Obviously you don't mess with someone (any woman, that is), when you have no chance to get any kind of sympathy. <br /><br />Sorry, sweetie.....you lose!! I have mom in my corner!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-68340251133127087782009-06-23T05:30:00.000-07:002009-06-23T05:48:45.733-07:00He's Still Here<p align="right"></p><p align="left">After yesterdays post, some of you may have been concerned for the well-being of my husband. Even though he has brought this on himself, I don't want his mom to be worried over the health of her only son. Or for my children to wonder if this is the day that they get their inheritance. </p><div align="left"><br />So, people, here's proof that I haven't done anything to him.</div><div align="left"><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Gp-f29AvI_H3PtYHH_ssAYD-BfRKseHQFmW5020lTCUIlepdEqNAvU0OJZ_AD5zmp1I11ZcMgeICku2oIhd-GSIHe8ICLiu_PTMOsl2v42sXsdWhyphenhyphent0I_38iV_V4P0aP4AN7AG46TM9X/s1600-h/CIMG3824.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350501879127498354" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Gp-f29AvI_H3PtYHH_ssAYD-BfRKseHQFmW5020lTCUIlepdEqNAvU0OJZ_AD5zmp1I11ZcMgeICku2oIhd-GSIHe8ICLiu_PTMOsl2v42sXsdWhyphenhyphent0I_38iV_V4P0aP4AN7AG46TM9X/s320/CIMG3824.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_6rTJjJ1TWOMX0PMmjFqMIwKKKOkyxtJSCUGv0OEkOWfy357-Lcq-er6ZAa5AU6Rs7IMechYQgeT37hgaSjoHrcV4BUZYXMowjot1QMg7iQs0LvPrKR6LEx-hFT3kkZHmB3lAhjXV366/s1600-h/CIMG3825.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350502367927796354" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_6rTJjJ1TWOMX0PMmjFqMIwKKKOkyxtJSCUGv0OEkOWfy357-Lcq-er6ZAa5AU6Rs7IMechYQgeT37hgaSjoHrcV4BUZYXMowjot1QMg7iQs0LvPrKR6LEx-hFT3kkZHmB3lAhjXV366/s320/CIMG3825.JPG" border="0" /></a></p>He's safe. He just has to stop pissing me off!!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-11082035741262565252009-06-22T07:26:00.000-07:002009-06-22T08:26:56.369-07:00Brave or Stupid??For weeks now, my husband has been writing on his blog about me and my physical issues. He just sits his butt down and writes his little heart out about how I'm melting the entire universe with my body heat. After his first blog about me, he received response after response. So what did that make him do? Another week of writings about a condition that I have no control over, teasing me, making him look like some wounded snowman, in danger of melting away forever. Every now and then, he'll go back to boring work related blogs or whatever he's contemplating at the moment. But when he doesn't get any responses, what does he do?? Yep....lets write about the little wife! It's like "sweeps week". He does it for the ratings. He has so crossed the line from exaggeration into flat-out lying!!!<br /><br />Everyone who is reading his blog....our families, friends, his co-workers.....are always asking this question: "We can't tell. Are you really brave or really stupid?"<br /><br />DUH!!!!!!<br /><br />HE'S REALLY STUPID!!!<br /><br />If I am as bad as he says, then why would he try to make me madder? Why keep on and on, telling the world how I'm the cause of global warming and that I'm melting the ice caps?<br /><br />I'll tell you....PURE STUPIDITY!!!<br /><br />And since his intellect is in question here, then maybe he won't notice anything "extra" in his food or drink.<br /><br />Or an innocent:<br />"Hey, honey, could you sit in that tub full of water and see if you can catch this plugged-in toaster?"<br /><br />Don't worry, people. I'm not going to be showing up on the 10:00 news as the maniac wife who went off on her husband. Just trying to get him to move his attention elsewhere.....<br /><br />Or else!!!!<br /><br /><br />Disclaimer: I'm talking about extra pepper!! And on the tub thing.....I'm telling him exactly what I'll be doing! No surprises there!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-54563075985289852662009-06-09T18:19:00.000-07:002009-06-11T07:41:33.790-07:00Angels and ButterfliesToday our little girl would have been 17 years old. Of course, she wouldn't be a little girl any more. She would be driving, dating, about to start her senior year in high school. She would have had lots of friends and boyfriends. She would have been out shopping at the mall, spending money on clothes that she just had to have. She would have been rolling her eyes at her parents. She would have been calling her big sister to ask about advice about college. She would have been an awesome aunt to her niece and nephew.<br /><br />Of course that list goes on and on. She would have been and could have been anything. But what she is is gone. She has been gone for seventeen years. It's so hard to believe that so much time has passed. That I can still remember the details so vividly. We only had her for such a short time, but we loved her so much and still miss her so much today.<br /><br />Most of the people who read this blog know about Gabrielle. And if you are reading this and don't know about her and want to know, just ask. She is our littlest angel. She never had the chance to even take a breath in this world. She never had the chance to cry out, to look at her mommy and daddy, to meet her sister and brother. And all the grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins who never had the chance to hold her.<br /><br />But life is not fair. Things happen that we just don't understand. Things happen that are hard to accept. After she died, I wrote in a journal. I think that's what finally helped me sort through what I was feeling. I wrote in this journal for a year. It's hard for me to go back and read it now, because it brings back alot of painful memories and I was very angry for the first few months. It's hard to hide that. I also joined a support group that dealt with miscarriage, stillborn and newborn deaths. That also helped. This group had a newsletter that anyone could contribute to with stories or poems or letters. I had written a poem for it. The title was "Our Littlest Angel". It's amazing how words can just flow when the feelings behind it is so intense. For me, sharing something that was so personal was hard. But over the next year, I wrote and submitted a couple of writings for them to print. It helped me so much. But even though I wrote a few pieces, my favorite will always be "Our Littlest Angel". It was my tribute to our baby girl.<br /><br />I have done things over this last seventeen years that make me feel better. Other people may think it's weird or strange, but I felt that if it made me feel better, then it didn't matter what anyone else thought. I hang a Christmas stocking up each year with her name on it. I make sure there is an age appropriate gift under the tree with her name on it each year. I put up a small Christmas tree with little decorations on it that was put on her grave that first Christmas after she died. We still order flowers to put on her grave every birthday. And many thanks to Stan, who ordered a dozen white roses for her this year. I sign cards to family and close friends with a G inside a heart along with our names. And a couple of years ago, I got a tattoo of a butterfly in Gabrielle's honor. It's small and it's only for me. Again, if you don't know the meaning behind the butterfly, just ask. I love springtime because that's when the butterflies come out. Every time we go to her grave, we always look for butterflies. Usually we see them.<br /><br />Over the years, I have had many opportunities to talk about Gabrielle. I love talking about her. My nieces and nephews were young when Gabrielle died. But now that they are older, some of them have asked me about her. And it may make me cry (usually it does), but that's okay. I love it that they ask me. I love that they don't act like she didn't exist. I love it that they are curious about her. And now, I love thinking that my mom is up there holding Gabrielle tight in her arms. <br /><br />To our little angel, who left us too soon, we love you and miss you.<br /><br />Happy Birthday.<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieU0zlOUI7knoNoD0JY789QndyggjcRSrfcKJjf_fd8oUI5etBa0duwX8dg6uLrW2VNQe3IHZaWpoAkGj7rFnx3EOYSf-aFRQDRhCnem_CdlwccMpqR74C18C75sGT3NdiUcom1g_LMVXa/s1600-h/reddish-butterfly-white-flowers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345530741031381570" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 204px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieU0zlOUI7knoNoD0JY789QndyggjcRSrfcKJjf_fd8oUI5etBa0duwX8dg6uLrW2VNQe3IHZaWpoAkGj7rFnx3EOYSf-aFRQDRhCnem_CdlwccMpqR74C18C75sGT3NdiUcom1g_LMVXa/s320/reddish-butterfly-white-flowers.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-27584896938987029812009-05-28T15:02:00.000-07:002009-06-09T20:21:18.815-07:00Babies<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHceLecRjh1AMM7Vb7EiHa9InxD55MNaxWmoBa6SQRbCv1d2KLh5xF_0wMHC36afq1uViYyn1B3RP7IeNej0tI2hSQm58URK-LClm00CIkYz2RtY5WxUQCBAKloiGlGuc-Ope1xQQlCjeU/s1600-h/CIMG6693.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341086968696842114" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHceLecRjh1AMM7Vb7EiHa9InxD55MNaxWmoBa6SQRbCv1d2KLh5xF_0wMHC36afq1uViYyn1B3RP7IeNej0tI2hSQm58URK-LClm00CIkYz2RtY5WxUQCBAKloiGlGuc-Ope1xQQlCjeU/s320/CIMG6693.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br />This week, for the very first time, I was able to hold both of my grandchildren in my arms!!<br /><br />It was amazing!<br /><br />It was wonderful!<br /><br />It was so very sweet!<br /><br />As I look at these babies, my heart is overwhelmed with feelings of love and tenderness. Words cannot express how much it meant to me to hold them together. To see the older one trying to get closer to the younger one....trying to kiss him over and over. Although, with the way she kisses with her mouth wide open, it looked more like trying to take a bite out of him!<br /><br />It was fun to see the differences. Audrey is 21 pounds. Chase is just under 7 pounds. Audrey is very mobile....crawling, standing, getting teeth. Chase is still sleeping alot and just lays where we put him, and makes the little soft sounds. Audrey's hair is growing back, while Chase is losing what he was born with.<br /><br />Both are just adorable (not like I'm biased or anything).<br /><br />Both have the most cutest faces!!! (still not biased here)<br /><br />Both are so very loved!!<br /><br />I can't wait to see these two babies of mine (yes, mine!!) grow and develop, along with the third little one coming in a few months! To watch them play, walk, talk and laugh!!<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSy9Upsvdhyphenhyphen6ZmReGqB1bWklwVj2kiPSijHr-Qjd65S23vjzTnub-jtkc4AXIsRmElGE8mpTldPSxhbQDQSyHo1dypIpz4f4Z214KXLbJIiCto1m3Wd-Jn1NZy1m1MhgJ86N-l3j9F6syB/s1600-h/CIMG6707.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341087408812825826" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSy9Upsvdhyphenhyphen6ZmReGqB1bWklwVj2kiPSijHr-Qjd65S23vjzTnub-jtkc4AXIsRmElGE8mpTldPSxhbQDQSyHo1dypIpz4f4Z214KXLbJIiCto1m3Wd-Jn1NZy1m1MhgJ86N-l3j9F6syB/s320/CIMG6707.JPG" border="0" /></a></p>Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-9783439854400310022009-05-22T06:19:00.000-07:002009-05-22T07:14:02.406-07:00Hard To SwallowMy daughter has another cold (it's the third one in the last couple of months). She is still stuffy and now the cough has set in. Her getting sick is bad timing. She has finals at school and has been studying very hard. Plus she can't hold Chase, and Audrey is coming home for a visit this weekend. So I've been pumping the medicine down her throat, trying to get her better. We usually have the liquid kind for her to drink. But last year she finally learned how to swallow pills so she's been taking those instead. Until this week, that is. Now, for some reason, she can't swallow the pills. She blames this on her father.<br /><br />I don't like taking liquid medicine. It tastes gross and makes me gag. Give me the pills any time. Once the kids starting taking medicine in pill form, I was hoping to never have to buy the icky tasting medicine again. But...there's still Stan to consider. Poor, poor Stan, who can't swallow pills very well at all. Even the little ibuprofen pill, he has trouble swallowing. He puts the pill in his mouth, drinks some water, and then keeps throwing his head back, trying to get the pill to go down. It's quite entertaining to watch. And fun to tease him about it. Which we do...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">alot</span>!! He has always had trouble taking medicine. When he decided to take vitamins (because of his advanced age), he went out and bought some pills. He opened the bottle and out came these huge pills. Of course, he gave it a try. In went the pill, and then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">alot</span> of throwing back of the head! A person could get whiplash just from watching him!! Sometimes the pill went down...but even then, he had a hard time doing it. So, we had to go and get him vitamins in liquid form! Yep, he has to drink his vitamins! <br /><br />There's no hope for Stan to overcome his non-swallowing pills phase...it's lasted over 48 years now. But I have high hopes that Megan will once again be a pill-swallower, like a normal person.Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-40591622165556912052009-05-18T07:29:00.000-07:002009-05-18T08:19:58.471-07:00Leaving On a Jet PlaneFor as long as Stan and I have been married (26 long...er...I mean wonderful...years), I have always taken him to the airport whenever he went on a business trip. There have been a few occasions when children or a commitment on my part has prevented that from happening. But for the most part I have taken him and picked him up. And those of you that know him well, knows that he travels <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">alot</span>. It doesn't matter the time he arrives or departs, or if it is snowing or raining, I'm there to greet him.<br /><br />When the kids were young, of course they had to come with me. At one point, Melissa and Matt thought that Stan worked at the airport since we were always dropping him off and picking him up there.<br /><br />Now, most of the time, Stan really couldn't pick the times he left or came home. He was at the mercy of the airlines. When he flew to Alaska, the only flight out was the red eye, that landed around 6:30 am. That meant that I got up at 4:30 to make the hour drive to Denver (earlier if it was snowing). Or sometimes it would be the meetings start or end time that dictated his flights. Whatever the reason, I was there.<br /><br />This morning was no different. This morning he had booked himself a 6:00 am flight. That's right....6:00 AM!! And that meant leaving our house around 3:00 am, which meant getting up at 2:00 am, because he is REALLY slow in the morning and it takes him awhile to get moving. At 2:00 am, he moves even s...l...o...w...e...r.<br /><br />As he was packing his suitcase last night, he made the most astute comment about how it wasn't the best move he ever made by booking such an early flight. You should be proud of me that not a "DUH" or a "No kidding" ever passed my lips. Seriously. I may have to buy me ice cream later to celebrate my restraint.<br /><br />He may be thinking that he will never do that again. And he may mean it. Until he does it again.<br /><br />Duh.Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-67783215102723927502009-05-14T21:18:00.000-07:002009-05-14T22:14:01.653-07:00All By MyselfWhen I was talking to Melissa the other day, the subject of living alone came up. She was telling me that she really doesn't like being alone in her apartment. And when she did live at home, she especially didn't like being in our house by herself. Too many sounds and the house is too big. <br /><br />I remember feeling the same way when Stan and I were first married. He went on his first trip when we had been married four months. He was gone a week and it was the longest week of my life (at least it seemed like it at the time). We lived in a little 2-story townhouse. Very, very small. I was okay during the day. At least it was light outside and I could go places to keep busy. But at night, it was a different story. I kept all the lights on, the TV stayed on for noise and I walked around with a pool cue stick in my hand constantly. I'm not sure what I would have done with the cue stick if I had to use it, but I felt better with it. So it was always beside me. Yep, even when I was in the bathroom. And I'm really glad I was never put to the test of using it. The stairs in the house were the kind that you could see through between the steps. So every time I went down them, I just knew that a hand was going to reach out and grab my foot. It was just a strange week for me. I couldn't relax and I really didn't know my neighbors well enough to ask them to babysit me for a week. Plus I didn't get to talk to Stan while he was gone. First of all, he was in Italy, and second, we didn't want a big long distance phone bill (this was waaaaayyyyy before cell phones). <br /><br />Of course that was the first of many times that I was alone. Stan has always traveled ALOT, with the Air Force and then in the civilian world. It did get easier over time. I still didn't like him being gone so much, but I learned to deal with things on my own. And then once the kids came along, they did their part in keeping me busy. These days, if we have a crisis, it's very easy to reach him....to get his opinion on what should be done.<br /><br />I guess it helped me to be more independent, to learn to do things for myself. I definitely had to grow up. And that's a good thing. I wish the same for my children. I just hope they never have to walk around with a pool cue stick for bravery!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-45758163636354311202009-05-10T18:21:00.001-07:002009-05-10T19:44:08.882-07:00A Mother's Day to RememberToday was Mother's Day. And I had a great day. I was given flowers by my husband and children. A picture frame with me and my grandbabies in it. An Audrey book. A purple butterfly coffee mug and keepsake box. A lap desk for my laptop. Dinner at Red Lobster with Stan, Megan, Matt, Amber and Chase....and Barb and Wayne at the last minute. Other than Melissa, Mark and Audrey not being here, I had a great day.<br /><br />Over the years, I've had alot of great Mother's Day moments. Lots of flowers and gifts and dinners out (mostly at Red Lobster). I have a wonderful family. And I love every one of them very much.<br /><br />But....(isn't there always a but somewhere?).....I do have one Mother's Day memory that is not a pleasant memory for me, although probably one that I will never forget. Nor will I let Stan forget it.<br /><br />It was Mother's Day 1995. We lived in Virginia. We went to church and then I picked Red Lobster for my nice dinner out. So with all three kids packed in the back seat of the car, off we went. When we got to the restaurant, we were told it would be a 90 minute wait. Well, that was just too long for Stan. Way, way too long. So his opinion was that we should try another place because clearly not all restaurants would have a wait as long as this one. There were a few good places around that area so we packed all three kids back in the car and off we went...again. Second place? Hmmmm....90 minute wait. Third place? Hmmmm....2 hour wait. By this time we are just driving around looking for a restaurant that didn't have people hanging out the door waiting. Eventually Stan saw the perfect place. It's called Bob Evans. There were no people waiting outside, lots of parking available and no list to put your name on. I'm sure there was a good reason for that.<br /><br />I went along with him, mainly because I'm stunned that he would spend so much time driving around, looking for the perfect place (meaning NO LINE) when obviously we could have already been seated at Red Lobster. We got seated at a table (yep...no wait), and I order spaghetti...yum (didn't see any shrimp or lobster on the menu and don't think I would have ordered it anyway). I really think he was clueless at this point on my mental state, or the thoughts that are going through my mind. Completely clueless. So, I spent MY day at a place that I didn't like, just because of a little bit of a wait at the place that I WANTED to spend MY day.<br /><br />Well.....naturally, being the forgiving and understanding wife that I am, I forgave him....NOT. I stewed on this for weeks. Still stunned and in disbelief that this happened.<br /><br />Eventually, I got over it (well, maybe not). All was well, until Father's Day came along. Stan's choice was to go to Outback. So we packed up the kids, went to church and then off to HIS choice for dinner. And the wait when we got there??? Glad you asked! It was 2 hours. And what did we do? Without hesitation, Stan put our name on the list and we stood in a corner and waited....and waited....and waited.<br /><br />I think that that's when he really started to get it. Really started to think "uh huh...what have I done?" He didn't want to wait an hour for a table at MY place but he was okay with waiting 2 hours for HIS place. This is where the light bulb goes off over his head!<br /><br />I have to say, that since that fateful day, we have ALWAYS gone where I wanted on Mother's Day. They could have said that the wait is 5 hours long, and Stan would have sat his butt down and waited.<br /><br />Yep....he's been sucking up to me ever since!!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-53578546064153011292009-05-09T08:45:00.000-07:002009-05-09T09:17:07.126-07:00Spring is Here (2)This is what we woke up to this morning:<br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0wnwRLJ3DwnPxvXqri2WkpgxidwxB7BdYP-KTXuHjzJLOAaGVoKCkHCXYiThD-HzcIcm3wQGGpyvB18W_DipPsgIuGsrQUEGHh21H7wdC4qyFpIdF1ahhhrWd4rpKIdQbox8eVX9hk-u/s1600-h/CIMG3669.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333851780689082546" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0wnwRLJ3DwnPxvXqri2WkpgxidwxB7BdYP-KTXuHjzJLOAaGVoKCkHCXYiThD-HzcIcm3wQGGpyvB18W_DipPsgIuGsrQUEGHh21H7wdC4qyFpIdF1ahhhrWd4rpKIdQbox8eVX9hk-u/s320/CIMG3669.JPG" border="0" /></a></p>Yep...sunshine....blue skies....a little breezy.....and no rain!! The weatherman did get one thing right--it is cooler today than it has been over the last few days. And we still have a "chance" of some rain showers late tonight and into tomorrow. Maybe. Who knows. Obviously the weatherman has no clue.<br /><br />But what upsets me more than the lies of a weatherman, is the fact that Stan is just loving this! He has a big smug smile on his face, laughing at my disgust at this beautiful day, knowing that he COULD have done the dreaded chore of mowing, but just tickled pink that I have already done it!! He had quite the bounce in his step as he headed out the door this morning...the butthead!!<br /><br />At least the yard looks nice, if I do say so myself!!<br /><br />And Stan is not getting off too easily....because I did leave one job for him that he may not have noticed. Yep, he gets to pick up the poop!! And he has a nice sunny day to enjoy while he does it!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-18964639070344006062009-05-08T10:10:00.000-07:002009-05-08T10:39:20.372-07:00Spring is HereWe noticed last week that our grass was starting to grow. But mostly around the edges, thanks to Gizmo, the oldest dog in the whole world. She only pees and poos around the edges, so it gets really thick there. Stan didn't get a chance to mow last weekend while he was home (shocker) so I told him that I would try to get to it this week. Why, oh why, did I say that??? Remember, I'm a good wife. <br /><br />All week the weather has been beautiful. Blue skies with temperatures in the seventies. It's been great. And every day, I think of a reason not to mow or sometimes not even thinking of mowing at all. And now it's Friday. Stan comes home tonight. So the question on my mind all morning has been "to mow or not to mow?" Hmmmm...what to do. It really does need it. The lazy part of me says that's almost Saturday....that Stan can do it tomorrow....what's one more day. Then I turn on the news and find out that all the sun and warmth is over after today. Yep, tomorrow it's going to be rainy and temperatures in the forties, and lasting through Sunday. Just terrific. <br /><br />After groaning and moaning about my lot in life, I get ready to mow. Then Melissa calls. So I talked to her for awhile. I moan and groan to her that I really don't want to mow. She says what I've thought....that Stan can do it tomorrow. Oh, how I wish he could. After we hang up, I actually get my lazy butt up and go outside. Matt starts the mower for me, just to make sure it still runs after months of no use. And the stupid thing actually starts. Bummer!! <br /><br />That's that. No more excuses. No more delays. I mow the yard (only the front since the back is not bad yet--that's my story and I'm sticking to it). All I can say now is that it had better rain tomorrow. And it had better be cold. Or I may have to go hunt down a TV weatherman!!!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120246971615336178.post-56079296706223908582009-05-05T13:22:00.000-07:002009-05-05T15:04:50.863-07:00Now some PicturesWhen I wrote yesterdays blog, I was just recounting the conversation I had with Megan a couple of weeks ago. I didn't think that since I was writing about adding pictures to a blog (any blog) that anyone would expect me to add pictures to yesterdays blog.<br /><br /><br />But I was wrong. I had a message on my answering machine this morning from my mom-in-law. And I was politely informed that I was a tease. As she was reading my blog, she was eager to get to the bottom and see some pictures. And when she got there....nothing!<br /><br /><br />So so very sorry!! I didn't mean to be a tease. Really I didn't. So in order to get back to being the favorite daughter-in-law (I'm their ONLY daughter-in-law), I am now going to add pictures. And I figured the best way to get back in her good graces was to add pictures of her great-grandchildren!!<br /><br /><br />And here they are:<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHL595QJAab9gjFksl6U1X8yr1HtqiP9UsMr0-1vh3bmTkY7DBbRknGKREAIrIUgNUkvApDu7BtL89fAOTgklw6cnjO6745oqCGl6Pa_guya59u8njqdpMLhSmGgDin2H-Vxq2W198xaaK/s1600-h/CIMG3572.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332441804803458738" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHL595QJAab9gjFksl6U1X8yr1HtqiP9UsMr0-1vh3bmTkY7DBbRknGKREAIrIUgNUkvApDu7BtL89fAOTgklw6cnjO6745oqCGl6Pa_guya59u8njqdpMLhSmGgDin2H-Vxq2W198xaaK/s320/CIMG3572.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><br /></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZslMlC2O3xn7uIQpOcv9WcTHOkh5EoqQLo-jsVxhYI0HpJKTJlPindtWzI0kKYp7vkz62vU7qp-uNqVeGTxwHGd702UddfReaaRWptfzAF9D6Yw36Bf_SN1DkisjeBhHy6GP7bVDAUlNC/s1600-h/CIMG3656.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332442287312606994" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZslMlC2O3xn7uIQpOcv9WcTHOkh5EoqQLo-jsVxhYI0HpJKTJlPindtWzI0kKYp7vkz62vU7qp-uNqVeGTxwHGd702UddfReaaRWptfzAF9D6Yw36Bf_SN1DkisjeBhHy6GP7bVDAUlNC/s320/CIMG3656.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVY4YG3-py-oiYp3-v7rwBHyomYGJfueeEI3UT2YMmvpKMzpq_PX2mM2gQXiGflvokaFL4zrUYD_F1MBCR6Dp5VJ-SAfFzMFEGXFHgkvBqxLxWlJ6hDptxebmz9WYzKCdGuHiq_FfoOq6p/s1600-h/CIMG3497.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332442941308634946" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVY4YG3-py-oiYp3-v7rwBHyomYGJfueeEI3UT2YMmvpKMzpq_PX2mM2gQXiGflvokaFL4zrUYD_F1MBCR6Dp5VJ-SAfFzMFEGXFHgkvBqxLxWlJ6hDptxebmz9WYzKCdGuHiq_FfoOq6p/s320/CIMG3497.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjyoLidWekoHa5R5EDTDI_DT1OuVYiqs1T7GPV3NEjCqlM75-0bM8gYSGvdLdAnG2Oy6q3DrQG3i6ITvnq7jhs2nW-tu735wRV_bQsXPA3EZ3m5NPd0iBhGZW8ejr9rNd6xc9hrM6tvAz/s1600-h/CIMG3495.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332444057365569938" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjyoLidWekoHa5R5EDTDI_DT1OuVYiqs1T7GPV3NEjCqlM75-0bM8gYSGvdLdAnG2Oy6q3DrQG3i6ITvnq7jhs2nW-tu735wRV_bQsXPA3EZ3m5NPd0iBhGZW8ejr9rNd6xc9hrM6tvAz/s320/CIMG3495.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br />And I hope everyone is happy now!!Necahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09394042998982909500noreply@blogger.com2