tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23363674240513902242024-03-21T15:15:52.397-06:00Life HappeningsTarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-43567730877156981362009-10-26T10:20:00.010-06:002009-10-26T11:34:20.820-06:00Old People Can Be Very Disturbing<div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff and I went to see Loggins and Messina in concert this weekend. I have a few songs from them, and Jeff decided that it would be fun, so we bought the tickets about two months ago. I haven't been to a concert in over ten years, and, needless to say, I was wholly unprepared for the experience. Sorry to my parents if you are offended by the old people comments. ;)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was snowing really hard when we left, so we ventured out early. Planning to eat dinner out before the concert, we left the house at around 6pm. The concert was supposed to start at 8pm. Upon traveling to the Paramount Theatre, we discovered that the concert actually started at 7:30. I'm still not back to eating much, though, so dinner went quickly and we were back on the road by 6:45.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We arrived at the parking lot (the parking price was included in the price of the ticket - very nice), and found our way to an empty spot three stories underground. Luckily there were elevators to take us to ground level so we didn't have to walk all the way back up! We made it to the Paramount with 15 minutes or so to spare and found our seats.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67Qe7_4Q-A_-hnog3s8VdaN2zqSQR6K4jRxS_wyrR_6RHjMX4BNfaK9JMDIXywtGEt6j7H_-X29Q64vCzUBEmlQo4MbSsBx-NlHwVwjEktTag4gnEub7DCQ02oUdfY5qBVJbGvUaDA_H1/s1600-h/102509_21421.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67Qe7_4Q-A_-hnog3s8VdaN2zqSQR6K4jRxS_wyrR_6RHjMX4BNfaK9JMDIXywtGEt6j7H_-X29Q64vCzUBEmlQo4MbSsBx-NlHwVwjEktTag4gnEub7DCQ02oUdfY5qBVJbGvUaDA_H1/s400/102509_21421.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396958821487715762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:small;"><i>Blurry because it was taken by cell phone camera, but it's the view we had of the stage.</i></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although I was prepared for an older audience, I was amazed to find that there were probably less than ten people under the age of 35 there. Most of the audience was 65 or older, I think, and I have certain expectations of that demographic. Mostly that they get tired easily. Jeff commented that the concert couldn't go too long, as all the old people would fall asleep halfway through.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Gabe Dixon Band opened the show, which confused us to no end. Our last concert didn't have someone else open - just the group we had paid to watch. So, when they spent 35 minutes playing songs, we questioned whether we were even in the right place. They finally finished their "opening" playing and left the stage. We expected Loggins and Messina to come out right away, but the house lights came on and people started filing out. We wondered if that was the entire concert. Then I realized that people had finished their drinks and were going in search of more alcohol. Joy. Finally, the lights dimmed again and the stars of the night came onto the stage.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The songs started out quite familiar, but after the first three, I didn't recognize any until the second-to-last song. I enjoyed the singing (they even had the audience singing some of the songs), but they also had a ton of instrumental interludes. I didn't enjoy them, as they bordered on jazz-style music. I've never really enjoyed the saxophone, and they had a song with dueling saxophonists that rather grated on my ears. I probably should have gotten up and left for a few minutes, but the thought didn't occur to me until it was over.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The first song was good, as the audience enjoyed it without getting too involved. After that, though, all bets were off. There was one lady who was so drunk that she kept standing up and dancing (to the annoyance of those sitting behind her), and the usher had to tell her to sit down. She tried to get into the aisle to dance but he forced her to sit down. She conceded to the usher and merely sat down and waved her hands in the air. She was far too drunk, though, to have any ability to keep the beat (or maybe she's just not normally good at that), and so her sit-dancing was totally off. I discovered that if I watched her too long, I got motion sick. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was totally surprised at the audience's reaction to the music. While Jeff and I thought that the older crowd would be boring and tired, they were all dancing. Some got into the aisles, some went up to the front, near the stage, and others just stood at their seats and swayed. Just like the drunk lady, though, it seemed as if everyone fell out of the music tree and hit every "no-beat" branch on the way down, because they were all off. Even those people sitting together couldn't keep in sync with each other. I tried to focus on the stage as much as possible.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HTlbRZs84WNKhmbnsilGywOaGqH_TraGwIPqXjHtr3jwwd1hqGIKGFrl3cqIHD2mpOsA7k7MzEkt5j_Cm35G5zBf2FN9pcSyAs8IqgeYqiGx_HnvAYyGui0BZM3XVokIuxYovuzhbSLC/s1600-h/102509_21451.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HTlbRZs84WNKhmbnsilGywOaGqH_TraGwIPqXjHtr3jwwd1hqGIKGFrl3cqIHD2mpOsA7k7MzEkt5j_Cm35G5zBf2FN9pcSyAs8IqgeYqiGx_HnvAYyGui0BZM3XVokIuxYovuzhbSLC/s400/102509_21451.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396958830159207250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size:small;">Another blurry image to give you an idea of how the show was.</span><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a lady sitting next to Jeff who was probably close to 70. She kept using binoculars to see the stage and looked like a nice lady who would be comfortable in a knitting club. It was only after she stood up and started dancing like a maniac and drumming on the seats in front of her that I decided she was Jerry Garcia reincarnated. Poor Jeff almost got elbowed several times and kept inching closer to me to prevent his face from getting hit. I found the whole thing quite amusing until she took off her shirt and danced in a tank top with her hands over her head. That was something I really didn't need to see.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohl-ZErgqNNrq7cE6K_n-3gQwWbR16oyWTu0wldOHWUg3_16pRkZWHQ1H8bm5k4foXCjicNBSZooTeMs3mGv_xQ8llAzslx9dUbzifotDqn0KhyphenhyphenujgMqGffyGXWqkI21DixxEQsRQL_xW/s1600-h/102509_22001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohl-ZErgqNNrq7cE6K_n-3gQwWbR16oyWTu0wldOHWUg3_16pRkZWHQ1H8bm5k4foXCjicNBSZooTeMs3mGv_xQ8llAzslx9dUbzifotDqn0KhyphenhyphenujgMqGffyGXWqkI21DixxEQsRQL_xW/s400/102509_22001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396958835871305922" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:small;"><i>Old people dancing, obscuring our view of the stage. This picture only shows a few people toward the beginning of the show. At the end, the rest of the people were up and dancing, and we had zero visibility.</i></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Overall, it was a good concert. Jeff and I seemed to be the only people who weren't standing, though. I just didn't have the heart to get up and dance (do I ever?), and Jeff didn't want to do it without me. After it was over, we sat and waited for the aisles to clear. People were so reluctant to leave, though, that 25 minutes later, the ushers had to clear everyone out. It was so warm in there that I didn't even put my coat on to leave. It felt great to get outside.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, despite the average age of the audience members, the only person who got tired and almost fell asleep was me. From my time in the hospital during the past two weeks, I have gotten used to getting to bed around 9:30 and having lights out by 10:30 (hospital rule which I just continued because it's comfortable, though I usually have my lights out by 9:45 or so). Although it was way past my bedtime by the time we left, I stayed awake for the drive home and managed to play a card game with Jeff when we got home.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had a good weekend.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-26229025352365337912009-09-09T13:55:00.000-06:002009-09-15T14:00:47.299-06:00See? I Told You So.<div style="text-align: justify;">Just what I predicted. No subtle hints at anything political to warp young minds. Nothing condescending about republicans. It was a great speech and very well done.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8ZZ6GrzWkw0&rel=0&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8ZZ6GrzWkw0&rel=0&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-18005394181766402472009-09-04T12:15:00.005-06:002009-09-09T18:29:48.769-06:00Patriotism is DeadI'm not very political in my daily life. I don't read political editorials, or watch every political speech that is offered. Does that make me a bad citizen? I don't think so. I think it simply implies that I think our government is doing the best they can and that I have more important things to spend my time on. That's why they get paid the big bucks. They can decide things for me and I am okay with that. It's why I live here. I can play in the backyard, go to a movie, or go out to dinner while the leaders of our country make big decisions on how the country is run. <div><br /></div><div>Given that, I am appalled at the repsonse to the proposed speech by President Obama on Tuesday. This man is our country's leader. The main man. The big honcho. He's not some deranged lunatic trying to abduct and rape our kids. He's not pushing drugs on them in some shady alley. He's not going to bombard them with bad language. He simply wants to stand up before the school children of the U.S. and tell them to stay in school. He won't talk in adult terminology. He's a dad of school-aged kids himself. He know how to communicate his ideas to the younger generation. In fact, he's young enough to almost be considered the younger generation himself!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not expecting him to make a major political stand here. He's just going to show kids of today that if you stay in school and study, you can become whatever you want (just look at him - he did quite well in that regard). While children are easily taught, I highly doubt that he's going to explain the recession or bailout reasonings to them. At most, I might expect ot hear him say that since families don't have as much money now, it would very patriotic of the kids to not ask their parents for every last item in the store!</div><div><br /></div><div>The ability for the president to address the citizens of the nation (and yes, our children are citizens, although not old enough to vote) should fall under the First Amendment. If the leader of our country doesn't have the right to speak his mind, no one should. Yes, his comments should be censored - he shouldn't be able to say anything. Bad language or immoral concepts should not be allowed in his presentation. But what he says shouldn't be censored any more than any TV show that we allow our kids to watch. If our kids watch the Super Bowl with us and see unintended flesh on the musical performers, or watch several of the shows that, as of late, have failed at beeping out the F-word, we shouldn't have any issues with them watching a speech by the president.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jeff mentioned that our schools show all sorts of things to our kids. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s speech. The Gettysburg address. While these are historic events and often contain elements that mean nothing in today's society, we still obviously get something out of them, otherwise they wouldn't be discussed in school. Our new president is trying to leave his mark on the school kids - by the time he goes up for reelection, some of them will be old enough to vote.</div><div><br /></div><div>Supposedly several presidents addressed students when I was in school. I don't remember any of their speeches. I think that most kids don't pay that much attention. I feel that this tizzy that the country is in over the impending speech is wasted effort.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's my say. I'll likely post again when the speech has been given with an "I told you so" response. :)</div><div><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-16164490293834446002009-09-01T16:32:00.003-06:002009-09-01T17:26:48.390-06:00I've Been a Bad Blogger<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Okay? I admit it. I'm not holding up my end of the blogging deal. I write the blog, you read the blog. That's the deal. Since I haven't written in a while, you haven't been able to read. I'm sorry.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We went to Nauvoo, IL for a vacation in June. I've been trying to blog about it but I have so many pictures and so little inclination to work on it that I've just put it off. I will try to get to it (soon, or possibly at all). If I don't, just know that we went, had a blast, and saw lots of really cool things that you won't. Sorry. But hopefully I'll get to it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-38476344751466345952009-06-09T12:42:00.007-06:002009-06-23T14:13:12.671-06:00School's Out!<div style="text-align: justify;">Jordan has finally finished his first year of middle school. Although he just started at the school this year, he went out of his way and applied to (and got accepted!) a gifted and talented school for next year, so he'll be switching schools again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Here's what I hope Jordan learned during his 6th grade year:</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Doing your homework when you get home is better than putting it off</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Working slowly on a long-term project makes it much easier than doing it all at once the night before it's due</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- A due date isn't just a "recommendation" from the teacher - it's when the assignment should be in the teacher's hand</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Accompanying a friend who is involved in drugs to meet "a group of guys in a truck" is probably a really bad idea (good thing those plans fell through!)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Getting your parents to sign a required form is essential to getting good grades</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- A black shirt rarely, if ever, looks good with midnight blue shorts</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Wearing a watch isn't considered "un-cool"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Carrying a wallet with almost $100 in slippery-pocketed pants is a <i>really</i> bad idea, and we are extremely thankful that the bus driver is more ethical than any middle schooler would be</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Staying organized is the very best way to maintain good grades</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Here's what I learned during Jordan's 6th grade year:</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Although I threaten not doing so at the beginning of every school year, I am always going to help with homework and projects</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- He's better at remembering some things than I thought</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- He needs to be reminded to write down homework instructions, not try to remember all of them in his head</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- I should be more attentive of school work every day, and require him to show me his work, not just accept his word</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- I must step back and let him fail every now and then so he realizes the importance of doing well</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- I need to stop trying to change who he is and accept that the friends he has he gets by being himself - they wouldn't be his friends if they didn't like him!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- I should consider "forcing" him to join activities outside of school - he always likes things once he tries them, but won't try them without a nudge (or a threat)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- I realize that he's a smart kid, who is good in every subject. He has my spelling/language abilities, Jeff's math abilities (and beyond), and his own science, geography, musical, and physical education abilities. I keep thinking he's behind on things, but I've realized that I think of him as older. When I compare him to other kids his age, he's far advanced. It's his height and deep voice that throw me off. He towers over his classmates, and his voice is, I think, deeper than Jeff's now.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I hope that he had an excellent year and that his 7th grade year will be even better. Good luck in the difficult, but totally worth it, Quest Academy, Jordan! We're proud of you!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-45014890348483431352009-05-31T12:35:00.000-06:002009-06-23T12:42:00.618-06:00Happy Birthday, Jeff!<div style="text-align: justify;">We celebrated Jeff's birthday on May 30, which conveniently fell on a weekend and he had the day off. We had a great day, starting with a yummy breakfast for Jeff (I didn't screw it up this year, as I normally do), opening some presents, and playing games, watching movies, and spending the day as a family. We ended with a nice dinner at his favorite restaurant, Red Lobster. Overall it was quite a fun day. He got a new watch, a new pair of sunglasses, and some other odds and ends that he's been wanting or needing. He seemed satisfied with his haul. While I didn't take any pictures of the day's events, and therefore don't have any to post here, I do want to wish him the best of luck in his new year. :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-53455430994865178852009-05-25T09:33:00.036-06:002009-06-05T16:53:57.982-06:00Bill Maher<div style="text-align: justify;">We got tickets to see Bill Maher's stand-up comedy show in Boulder on Saturday, May 2. Thinking we would make a slight vacation out of it, we asked Jeff's parents to have Jordan stay with them that night and we headed to Boulder earlier in the day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We arrived in Boulder around lunchtime and set out to find a place to eat. We parked on the Pearl Street Mall and walked around for a while before settling on The Cheesecake Factory. We both had their lunch-sized salads (which were far bigger than any dinner-sized salad I've ever seen - I can't imagine what <i>their</i> dinner-sized portion is like!) and a slice of cheesecake. Yummy. Throughout lunch we pondered why Boulder drivers are unable to stop at the stop sign sitting outside our window. We saw more than a hundred cars go by and yet only three or four actually came to a full and complete stop. Some cars did a bit late - usually because someone was crossing the street and they were forced to stop. But most just slowed (slightly) and sailed right through. We considered notifying the police that they might want to set up a little watch there, but then we saw several police cars run the sign. That's when we decided that the people of Boulder run the stop signs because that's what they see the cops do. Oh well. No one got hurt in the making of this lunchtime activity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After lunch we walked around the mall for a while, looking for a nice little shop that sold jewelry. I wanted a necklace that I could wear to nice places (most of my current necklaces are from younger years and are somewhat strange and not what I generally wear to a nice restaurant or other grown-up location). I didn't want a fancy diamond necklace that could double as a house payment. Just a nice, not-so-childish bauble. We found Bolder World, which carries a variety of jewelry (almost handcrafted in their looks) and some Boulder-ish clothing (not my style by any stretch of the imagination). I selected a nice heart necklace, and also found some fun earrings that <i>almost</i> matched the necklace. For my purposes, they were close enough.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Walking along the mall, we saw a lot of interesting people. Mostly small groups of musicians playing for the crowds. One outdoor entertainer we saw (and didn't think to take a picture of... but I found some on Flickr) was completely painted & dressed like a bronze cowboy and was so still we stood and tried to figure out why there was a bag of money at the feet of this statue. Upon a (slightly) closer inspection, we found his eyes following our movement and knew he was real and watched him for a bit longer. After the initial shock of seeing his eyes move, he was great fun. He did break form once, when someone asked him to pose for a picture with her. Other than that, it was difficult to tell that he wasn't a permanent fixture. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHNP8x0IZkNyi0-UUXaBfKNIL0PgqX8JKEdK3fGt2cl0ijMNhCQLV3KnqzOXUfsWR5RHg4-dgdvIa8xA-QC93UAcTlk1uL1SrGt1qK74lQ7P_x4JAmWxmObgoHgTg8XFIlD_fvtZf53LH/s1600-h/cowboy.png"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 399px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHNP8x0IZkNyi0-UUXaBfKNIL0PgqX8JKEdK3fGt2cl0ijMNhCQLV3KnqzOXUfsWR5RHg4-dgdvIa8xA-QC93UAcTlk1uL1SrGt1qK74lQ7P_x4JAmWxmObgoHgTg8XFIlD_fvtZf53LH/s400/cowboy.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343888930407400194" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIacAMHREZt4c3KXkXpfORFQPikmX6ao3E7hgM9ZY_osKhGieYC-wLcpLclPBgZ5bH90DHkp4G7ETY8JOFoVhWTboimnseXEEXmMyZdRCdbesMYv3Nc4UMhkKkhzjfjQArXXC05p2415By/s1600-h/cowboy2.png"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIacAMHREZt4c3KXkXpfORFQPikmX6ao3E7hgM9ZY_osKhGieYC-wLcpLclPBgZ5bH90DHkp4G7ETY8JOFoVhWTboimnseXEEXmMyZdRCdbesMYv3Nc4UMhkKkhzjfjQArXXC05p2415By/s400/cowboy2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343888922363582562" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We'd made reservations at the lovely St. Julien Hotel & Spa as it was the only hotel we could find that had room service (one of the perks of staying at a hotel) and wasn't a bed & breakfast. The hotel was completely smoke-free (yay!) and in good condition. Aside from some road construction on some of the roads nearby, we had no trouble finding it. </div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDy3gaq7pV9jfVuj-X9kWGfrZJXO3sAiWnmIXmH2WfmyM36cjUKJWbZDGymYVwpBX2thu-MRNucRSV0sSYDZJs9R71JkJXm7nN-vPA2SVmDl5BZMo2mWg_m-2UA4aRw435R19OALXCRPsF/s1600-h/stjulien.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDy3gaq7pV9jfVuj-X9kWGfrZJXO3sAiWnmIXmH2WfmyM36cjUKJWbZDGymYVwpBX2thu-MRNucRSV0sSYDZJs9R71JkJXm7nN-vPA2SVmDl5BZMo2mWg_m-2UA4aRw435R19OALXCRPsF/s400/stjulien.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343965161946384370" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Upon entering our room, we found this:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSElbwzy6iu-aX8FCx173BEj9SRSmIY08c02Kp53dJnsXWfZ35-ZkF_-RRdy6bmoPdm5Ht1KpmAAUdjAQugYLTTymguJ5XyE4B3FzFfm8zMWerQhY7KYDs4LsRJFH1S_JiZhsNxyOfGjPg/s1600-h/room1.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSElbwzy6iu-aX8FCx173BEj9SRSmIY08c02Kp53dJnsXWfZ35-ZkF_-RRdy6bmoPdm5Ht1KpmAAUdjAQugYLTTymguJ5XyE4B3FzFfm8zMWerQhY7KYDs4LsRJFH1S_JiZhsNxyOfGjPg/s400/room1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343871457838480034" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhCx85IlqodsKPu9FdUt9lVDuLCJ3NS6mxNaxh9cj6u2H409ysJ6grIBCZvAv5db0h7MickGaqgYQrTmRZpnKyAZ8__wh_7LTeb5zhH0Lv9PV95lUwPiFeq0C2LgeKea_6GY8adLWeshk/s1600-h/room2.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhCx85IlqodsKPu9FdUt9lVDuLCJ3NS6mxNaxh9cj6u2H409ysJ6grIBCZvAv5db0h7MickGaqgYQrTmRZpnKyAZ8__wh_7LTeb5zhH0Lv9PV95lUwPiFeq0C2LgeKea_6GY8adLWeshk/s400/room2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343871879721552642" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsv0SAu-bJl0EAG0ToMbsk9K_hyphenhyphenVicRvVc6gyvlbQIDCP1I4wjn3I5-BZZEqVxhQSuB21s788Ix2J3dtHtZvQiyjW10lIjQTktvvh1dpL77b6OdRa83zsWTd36qBWySNJwcirr-RVDLiUC/s1600-h/room3.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsv0SAu-bJl0EAG0ToMbsk9K_hyphenhyphenVicRvVc6gyvlbQIDCP1I4wjn3I5-BZZEqVxhQSuB21s788Ix2J3dtHtZvQiyjW10lIjQTktvvh1dpL77b6OdRa83zsWTd36qBWySNJwcirr-RVDLiUC/s400/room3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343871879916326178" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifH1B9uxFgdge6l3HfGF6P27Mz0nFIh4uACSjCoJ2n3jJ4hSbVgdkPmXsUwnOT-iSNTUuorrrVI7OTmQ9zMZZ3O1LaGm6eNxWAOZaxOnP3WNAPWTj4tBip5BKMml7ebIMnAXdpdrIR4t-3/s1600-h/room4.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifH1B9uxFgdge6l3HfGF6P27Mz0nFIh4uACSjCoJ2n3jJ4hSbVgdkPmXsUwnOT-iSNTUuorrrVI7OTmQ9zMZZ3O1LaGm6eNxWAOZaxOnP3WNAPWTj4tBip5BKMml7ebIMnAXdpdrIR4t-3/s400/room4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343871883585389074" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So far, we were pleased with the room. Then we checked out the bathroom:</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit48YhDcjdkxF659EWNEcNd1fAyjf4RaPIrpMFAg-z6_7DD1Z6aQAcwNtxZmvlGijzblyTUG83r2KxbMiOUJ_5HZblt9JPy6gFLmuwZkU3P7c94C1DtjrA2_bw-IjFOryP-IZl8vdwyCX5/s1600-h/bath3.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit48YhDcjdkxF659EWNEcNd1fAyjf4RaPIrpMFAg-z6_7DD1Z6aQAcwNtxZmvlGijzblyTUG83r2KxbMiOUJ_5HZblt9JPy6gFLmuwZkU3P7c94C1DtjrA2_bw-IjFOryP-IZl8vdwyCX5/s400/bath3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343872734357235890" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5sexTpfcSli5cuBxX7rw30gUYH3aNrNxp3xfUFmq9jka0T4ulqYWQSnn3H86y-eVAk1f26IBjYB6Wl3wmmThkW4KiM2q_t8JGSh_2ifPM7grcEgKyipVcs5S5bgLOh1e4e7M3FrvitFM/s1600-h/bath2.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5sexTpfcSli5cuBxX7rw30gUYH3aNrNxp3xfUFmq9jka0T4ulqYWQSnn3H86y-eVAk1f26IBjYB6Wl3wmmThkW4KiM2q_t8JGSh_2ifPM7grcEgKyipVcs5S5bgLOh1e4e7M3FrvitFM/s400/bath2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343872736613919474" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I didn't take any pictures of the little room with the toilet. It was just a toilet in a white room. Joy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After the quick tour, we settled down to see what the TV had to offer and just verify it worked as designed <i>before</i> we wanted to really watch it. We've had plenty of hotels where the TV didn't work properly and didn't know it until we had paid for a movie. The basic channel features were there, as well as some nifty music (with a variety of music-themed visualizations). You could choose from new age music (meh) or classical music (yay!). They had a wonderful selection and we set it to play while we checked out the balcony.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The balcony looked down on the hotel entrance (we opted for a non-mountain facing room. We've seen the mountains and don't need to pay extra for them). We listened to our music while watching cars and people come and go. Then we looked at the clock.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The show started at 8:00pm and it was 7:25. Yikes! We knew that it was located somewhere on the CU campus, but weren't sure where the auditorium was. We flipped open the phone book to see if there might be a handy map of the university campus, but to no avail. So we checked to see if the auditorium had its own listed address. Nope. It was 7:30 now and we were beginning to panic. Nothing major, just a slightly more rushed feeling. We decided to ask at the front desk and headed downstairs with our tickets.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We asked at the front desk for directions to the campus (and the auditorium). The clerk didn't know and passed our request along to the concierge. He started to give instructions, but then said that the only place to park on the campus is really far from the auditorium and that it would be faster if we got a ride in the free hotel shuttle. We agreed, only to have him tell us that the shuttle works on a first-come-first-serve basis and that there were several groups ahead of us. By this time it was 7:40. We were quickly becoming flustered.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was about this time that we were standing in the valet's little section (between the doors leading into the hotel lobby and the doors leading outside the hotel). We didn't want to blend in with the surroundings and have anyone forget about us! So, we were trying to be as in-the-way as possible. However, we were doing too good of a job of sticking out - we were standing in front of one of the doors leading outside (they were double doors, so a single person had no trouble getting past us but a larger group would be forced to go single-file). I noticed a limo parked outside and, thinking it was a permanent form of transportation for the hotel, I considered asking if we could just pay up the wazoo and go in that (a 10-minute limo ride wouldn't cost too much, would it?) but decided not to ask.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The concierge then asked if we would be interested in a taxi to take us there. I asked him how long it would take for a taxi to get to the hotel, but the guy misheard me and thought I agreed, so he dashed off to call a taxi. We waited and waited. The hotel shuttle came back and parked (seemingly for good). Still no taxi.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As we stood there wondering why we hadn't just walked and made it there with time to spare (the campus was advertised as only a 5-minute walk away from the hotel, which I correctly translated to be a Boulder 5-minute walk, not a normal person's 5-minute walk), I noticed that a large group of people were heading from the elevators toward us (on their way to leave the hotel through the very area that we were taking up). There were four or five people in this group and I surmised that they may prefer to use both doors to exit, so I reached for Jeff to pull him closer and more out-of-the-way so the group could move by us. That's when I glanced at the faces of the group and just about passed out.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Passing not even out of arm's reach was Bill Maher. My Bill. My t-shirt- & jeans-wearing, hair-combed-straight-back, half-smiling, short Bill. Wait - short?!? I always thought he was much taller, but sure enough, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005175/bio" target="_blank">IMDB</a> shows that he's only 5'8". Still, I couldn't take my eyes off of him, let alone grab Jeff to move him out of the way (Jeff's back was to the door so he didn't even notice the dilemma). When I found my voice I mumbled to Jeff that Bill was walking by, and Jeff turned just in time to see the back of Bill's head. Better than nothing, I suppose. Poor Bill probably walked past us wondering why the rude people wouldn't move out of the way. Oh well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgYswfE2Cq-IshLkejNE25Z4vygZYBd28EIJmjhkcQb71G31XVa8FA2NQamu1-pYW8ZsRVIBsf4ANxNqdaqo2qMRwl1Bwc_9PtdBSy87B_QGu_ll1uD4pRop-E_WuPUUdm4T1MYFXdbS8/s1600-h/Maher1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgYswfE2Cq-IshLkejNE25Z4vygZYBd28EIJmjhkcQb71G31XVa8FA2NQamu1-pYW8ZsRVIBsf4ANxNqdaqo2qMRwl1Bwc_9PtdBSy87B_QGu_ll1uD4pRop-E_WuPUUdm4T1MYFXdbS8/s400/Maher1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343967405149064210" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Bill and company then walked directly to the limo and climbed in. On the tip of my tongue (but not the tip of my courage), I had the question formed: "Could we hitch a ride with you, since we're all heading to the same place?" I was unable to bring myself to grovel, though, and merely stood there and watched the only transportation I knew heading to the CU campus pull away from the hotel.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At 7:50 we asked the concierge where the taxi was coming from and he panicked and called them back only to discover that they are dispatched out of Denver. Agh!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Finally a valet jumped to our aid and asked if we would like him to drive us there in our car. This seemed like a decent thing to do, since we had intended to drive in our car in the first place. He said that the shuttle would be able to give us a ride back after the show (when timing wasn't so critical). We agreed to this and headed to the garage to get our car. As we were waiting for the elevator, the valet came running up to us and asked if we would be willing to accept 2 more people on the journey. We said that was fine and bustled off to get the car.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We pulled up to the valet circle and the valet and other couple got in. I swear, this guy must have a second job as a taxi driver. He was so wild and reckless (and thankfully <b>wreckless</b>!) that I was certain we would get into a huge accident. I'm sure it didn't help things that I was in the front seat with him and could see everything he was doing wrong, like speeding, driving without a seatbelt, taking corners too quickly, and turning in front of fast-approaching oncoming traffic. But we made it to the auditorium and he had to explain to the attendant that he was only dropping us off, not parking (and hence we shouldn't have to pay for parking).</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0O_SZviAexOId7rmYsjTddnOAS7W_rMcfGmbs_CoLlwrcAYoTqr5khGtOIUIQCSbS_Vvi3Oed0sCxtkbFajj1WiMJSDpi7W_bv3qCPyUOt8PuNKGPWAUnAYearE3C2-F6n1LO4pQxBWNC/s1600-h/mackyTower.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 270px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0O_SZviAexOId7rmYsjTddnOAS7W_rMcfGmbs_CoLlwrcAYoTqr5khGtOIUIQCSbS_Vvi3Oed0sCxtkbFajj1WiMJSDpi7W_bv3qCPyUOt8PuNKGPWAUnAYearE3C2-F6n1LO4pQxBWNC/s400/mackyTower.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343901792552239362" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We got to the drop-off point at Macky Auditorium and didn't hesitate to throw ourselves out of the car, not even remembering to pay the poor valet who just sacrificed his life (and ours) to get us there. But we had his name and knew that he was getting off his shift at midnight, so we would see him again later (and get a valet ticket from him). We charged up the stairs, and the lady from the other couple who rode with us handed me a $10 bill to cover the cost of their ride, knowing we would have to pay the valet. I thought that was very nice.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We entered the auditorium, showed our tickets, and were ushered to our seats. The time was now 8:10pm. Bill wasn't on stage yet - yay! We made it! Here's a picture of the inside, and I circled roughly where we sat. Jeff had no problems seeing the stage, but I had someone in front of me who continually shifted from left to right, forcing me to imitate him in the opposite direction. We likely made any observers seasick.</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyG96G5XPnaESwLnaouIeDEfyApnFtxA3HSzkW9U9baVqeGV6lRURjTpP7h73-cV61Td3I8OC-FHYcQWXACkJSFz1f-IYnmCwdj_HlDvoRnmnU_b5_H5sfagv25P16eUyOhCxIEZDbBkMC/s1600-h/concertus.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyG96G5XPnaESwLnaouIeDEfyApnFtxA3HSzkW9U9baVqeGV6lRURjTpP7h73-cV61Td3I8OC-FHYcQWXACkJSFz1f-IYnmCwdj_HlDvoRnmnU_b5_H5sfagv25P16eUyOhCxIEZDbBkMC/s400/concertus.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343901777888408642" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">The intelligent person that I am, I had ordered our tickets so that we were sitting in the aisle seats. This was marvelous, since we didn't have to step on everyone's toes to get to our seats.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was 8:15 when Bill stepped onto the stage. Everyone cheered, and some people gave him a standing ovation. I wasn't sure why, since he hadn't done anything for us yet except take money for the tickets we all paid so we could see him. If anything, I felt he should be applauding us at the beginning of the show! He actually did do this a bit, by beginning his comedy with a "thanks for coming out to see me, especially risking the swine flu which is in such abundance and the ecomony going to the pits!" sort of comment. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">His entire routine was good. There were some jokes I had heard before from him, but they were good the second time. :) I enjoyed his newer jokes. There were at least two interruptions from people in the audience. One guy shouted out that Bill should do some Boulder jokes. This completely threw Bill off his routine and he said that he didn't know any Boulder jokes, adding that the interruption "really added a lot to the night" making the audience laugh. Another guy tried to make a Sarah Palin joke to fit in with something Bill said. Bill made a comment about being paid for his work and actually spending time writing his jokes, implying that this guy was a moron who didn't spend any time on the joke and shouldn't attempt to make it his day job. Yay for Bill.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The rest of the show was great, with lots of laughter and applause. We fell in line with the rest of the audience and filed out of the building. Just outside we found the hotel's shuttle parked, waiting for guests to board. We climbed on, and a few more guests boarded and the shuttle pulled away, heading back to the hotel.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Upon our arrival, we took our belongings back to our room, then sought out the valet who had driven us to the show. We found him, gave him a tip, and got our valet ticket. We then returned to our room and watched some TV before turning in for the night. The bed was extremely comfortable and I didn't wake up at all before morning (an unusual thing for me in a hotel). Here's our room, looking out over the grounds:</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBA2RI-eqQ_YBYV-pMXCcsXoWVqhqjAh8q6JrwPDzAD5yqDWxsvvotxWSad_PmvZewLADYDAWgBIbDSM7E-P3oJlrrjcKzrTY4yIw-4rat8cillVbMoa5lIHCLhhm6785EZgytHwaLEwQP/s1600-h/stjulienus.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBA2RI-eqQ_YBYV-pMXCcsXoWVqhqjAh8q6JrwPDzAD5yqDWxsvvotxWSad_PmvZewLADYDAWgBIbDSM7E-P3oJlrrjcKzrTY4yIw-4rat8cillVbMoa5lIHCLhhm6785EZgytHwaLEwQP/s400/stjulienus.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343966529405028898" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the morning, we ordered breakfast, which was quite good, and set about checking out. We made our room passes, clearing it of our belongings, then checked out in the lobby, collected our car from the valet, and drove home.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The mini-vacation was fun, relaxing, and thoroughly enjoyable. We look forward to taking more of them in the future. :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-85700929945298939232009-05-20T15:43:00.003-06:002009-05-20T15:57:05.570-06:00Doctor Check-Up at 146 Months :)<div style="text-align: justify;">Jordan had a doctor visit today. Technically, this is his 146-month check-up. Silly. I miss counting his age in months.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, in a throwback to his younger years, I thought I'd post his stats like I would if he was still a baby:</div><div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;">Height: 64.75 inches (>97%)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">Weight: 127 lbs (97%)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">BMI: 21% (86%)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">Blood Pressure: 110/70 (perfect)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">He no longer gets his head measured, so I can only guess that he's got an average-sized noggin</li></ul><div style="text-align: justify;">He also got 5 immunization shots and didn't have any problems. It was nice to not have to hold him to the table. :) He went outside and played basketball after we got home. We'll see if he gets any muscle aches or a fever. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-41002426641862642492009-05-14T16:32:00.010-06:002009-06-05T17:06:58.357-06:00From a Noun to an Adjective...<div style="text-align: justify;">We recently saw Bill Maher in a live performance. I know that people are eager to find out more about that experience, and I promise that I will be posting that soon.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But in the meantime, I had to express my thoughts on a realization I recently had. All of his life, Jordan has been in the front of our minds. Everything we do, everywhere we go, and everything we say is well thought out ahead of time to ensure that it is proper for him to experience.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Given that we're always thinking of him, I realized how it is that we go about making sure that the experience will be decent: we use the term "Jordanable" when referencing the activity. As in, "is this restaurant Jordanable?" or "I don't think this show is Jordanable". This could relate to what food is served in a restaurant (if he doesn't like the general type of food, then it's not a Jordanable restaurant), the material in a show (nudity is not Jordanable), or the general topic of a location (Disney is technically Jordanable, but he hates Disney stuff so we'd say it's not Jordanable).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, it's not a major post, but I found it amusing. I was thinking about if someone were to read my chat out of context and wonder what "Jordanable" meant. I guess his name has gone from only being a noun to also being an adjective. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have tons of other phrases that we use from Jordan's little-kid days. For example:</div><div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;">Ooshes (shoes)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">Ickidikidah (kitty cat)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">Ticko (tickle - his first word)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">La-La Oh-Oh (Law & Order)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">Diah Mono (Diagnosis Murder)</li><li style="text-align: justify;">Mono She Wrote (Murder She Wrote)</li></ul><div style="text-align: justify;">I realize that the last three are all TV shows. You can tell what my hobby was back when he was toddling around. :) To this day, we use these terms for their normal, everyday counterparts. Who would want to watch Law & Order when you can watch La-La Oh-Oh? Or wear shoes, when you can be daring and wear ooshes? LOL - the former words just seems so plain and boring!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To his credit, Jordan refuses to use his versions of words. He mocks us when we do it. ;)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-17397948852188023632009-04-15T13:59:00.013-06:002009-04-15T15:14:51.368-06:00Knock-knock... Who's There?<div style="text-align: justify;">Domestic bliss. As a stay-at-home-mom-turned-stay-at-home-wife, I love having the house to myself during the day. I do some work. I do less-than-sufficient housework. I blop a lot (blog hop). I spend endless hours on Facebook, and I am far too easily distracted by anything having to do with Bill Maher. I love my life.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With my happy lifestyle, I only grudgingly give up any of my time to anything other than what I want to do.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For example, I never answer the door unless I know who it is and am expecting that person. If it is a delivery, such as from UPS or FedEx, I wait until the driver is gone before I collect the package. If it's a door-to-door salesperson, I will not budge. Jordan never has friends come over without calling first, so I'm safe there. Suffice it to say, if I am not expecting you, you will end up standing there forever and ever because I refuse to answer the door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I also never answer the phone unless I feel that there's something important involved. If someone really wants to reach me, they should chat, as nature intended. If it's a particularly long discussion, feel free to use e-mail. I am online all the time and will generally respond to an e-mail within five minutes. Phone calls are too sudden and I am horrible at speaking. I prefer to spend time gathering my ideas, writing, reading, editing, rewriting, and rereading something before allowing my audience to see it. Phone calls don't allow this convenience. Things can get out of hand so quickly on the phone. Or you end up talking to someone you didn't want to talk to in the first place. I feel that the world would be better off had Alex Bell and his creativity not existed. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know, my life is so exotic and important that I choose to ignore people. Nice, huh? But I digress.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Enter my nemesis. Ever since we moved into our house, I have been plagued by a hammering noise. For the first few months, I assumed that we had a neighbor who was involved in construction. Or carpentry. Or just some home repairs. But this hammering noise continued all day long for months. I would look out various windows, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. It was fairly loud, leading me to believe that I should be able to see the culprit easily from at least one window in the house. Alas, it was not to be. Not once in my furtive glances did I spy the evil hammer-wielder.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">However, I was able to discern that the hammering noise was louder at the back of the house, so I focused my attention and energy there. I would sit outside on the patio, waiting to hear the hammering noise. It would never happen when I was outside. I thought that maybe we had an overly courteous hammering neighbor, who would simply stop their work while I was outside, as I appeared to be enjoying a lovely day but was in reality circumspectly attempting to track down the evil-doer. When I'd retreat back inside, the hammering would start up again within five minutes. I was coming unglued.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The hammering would sometimes occur when Jeff or Jordan were there, but they never seemed to mind. Maybe it sounded like the slight ticking of a clock to them. To me, it was like Big Ben chiming in my head. I never could understand their dismissal of the sound. Sure, they heard it, which was wonderful news to me, indicating I hadn't completely lost it. But it just didn't phase and haunt them as it did me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I gave up on trying to find the source of the hammering. I distracted myself by trying to watch TV in the middle of the day, with the sound really loud. The shows were entertaining, but that hammering just continued. I tried listening to music with headphones. Fun music, but my ears easily get tired of wearing headphones and I have to take them off. More hammering. We got aquatic turtles, in a tank, with loud water. The splashing water just added to my frustration rather than eliminated it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The hammering continued on and on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I did discover that since the sound stopped when I was outside, the culprit was sensitive to sound or movement. So, I got in the habit of making noise when I'd hear the hammering start up. I'd run to the back door and open it as loud as I could (sliding doors don't make much noise, but I tried). Or I'd just walk outside. Or I'd go to Jordan's bedroom window and attempt to make a loud noise by opening and closing it (again, not as loud as I'd hoped). But usually the noise did the trick and I would have some peace and quiet for about 15 minutes before I had to go make more noise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then, after living in our house for about a year, I finally managed to uncover my suspect: in the course of making noise one day, a woodpecker flew away from the house. Apparently Woody perches on an exterior vent to the attic, tirelessly breaking into our house. He never submitted an application for rent. He doesn't take the trash out. He doesn't pitch in to help pay for groceries. He's like a friend your child brings home who mooches off of you until you kick him out. His "music" keeps my nerves ragged, but there he was, squatting in my house. And not merely squatting. As far as I know, the typical squatter doesn't want you to know they are there. Woody had no gumption about making a ruckus and telling me to shove it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, I decided that since he was most of the way through the wooden slat to the attic, he would soon make it all the way through, and then he could just move in and be quiet. Silly me. I somehow thought that he had some normal bird purpose in his mind. It turned out that he's an evil woodpecker, set on world domination and sending people to the crazy farm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He made it through the wood slat, but didn't stop his daily drum practice. He started a lovely new hole, right next to the original one. So my hammering never stopped. I never get a break from trying to make noise to scare him off.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Having done some research, I've learned that woodpeckers are on some weird Colorado endangered list. Not because they are endangered; rather because they are non-migratory birds. I guess if they don't go anywhere else (I've noticed this...), we'll never get a decent selection of them. I don't want them, though. In a cartoon on Saturday morning? Sure thing! But in my house on Saturday morning? Go away! So, with their "listed" status, killing them is illegal and therefore not an option.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, what's a person to do when they can't just exterminate their home-invading nemesis? Well, it seems that loud noises scare them. Duh. I figured that out. However, do I want to set up some automatic noisemaker in an attempt to replace the head-splitting hammering combined with house destruction with another recurring noise just to deter the original noisemaker? That doesn't seem helpful.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Woodpeckers are also bothered by movement. I noticed this, too. I'm well on my way to becoming an ornithologist. Putting a shiny mobile of some sort near the woodpecker's preferred knocking place is an easy way to startle him. Hm. It's a good idea, but I have no idea where to find said shiny mobile, nor a decent way to mount it to the inside corner where the eave slopes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Putting something over the perching point is another way to force your unwanted housemate to move on. Stretching some fishing line just near enough to the actual footing location is enough to prevent the woodpecker from alighting and pestering you all day long.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This last one is the one we will try. I hope our ladder is long enough to reach that high. I hope that the fishing line actually works and Woody finds another place to peck. We will also need to fix the entire vent, and possibly clean out the attic.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But maybe, just maybe, I can return to my domestic bliss.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-79768465009532918912009-04-12T10:05:00.014-06:002009-04-13T18:24:07.868-06:00Q: When should soda be a five-finger discount?A: When you don't have five fingers to pick it up...<div style="text-align: justify;">Envision this, and if you're squeamish, just gloss over the last few pics:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A loving husband makes dinner on a Friday night. Mmmm... porcupine meatballs. Yummy! They tasted great, Jeff!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Smoky, the adorable cat, sits on the 12-year-old's lap while he tries to eat. Smoky, we love you, but it turns out that you're too distracting!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jordan has to let the food cool down for a fairly long time, and when he checks to see if his food is cool enough to eat (it turns out that it wasn't), instead of getting it in his mouth, he drops it straight onto the cat in his lap.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Smoky, now covered in piping-hot meatballs and tomato-based sauce, does her quantum-kitty thing and goes from being in Jordan's lap to being on the floor near the stairs. There was no flight or motion - one moment she was on Jordan's lap and the next she was at the stairs. This is what typically happens with her when she's scared, which is why we call it the quantum-kitty thing. We should have named her Schrödinger...</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When Jeff and I realized the unfortunate situation we were all in, Jeff sprang up to help clean Jordan, while I attempted to grab the cat to prevent her from running across the house flinging sauce all the way. Jeff was much more successful than I was.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I ended up chasing Smoky up the stairs and into our bedroom before I grabbed her and pinned her to the bathroom counter and cleaned her off. The cleanup was good, but it came too late. She had already dripped the sauce all over the carpet at the base of the stairs, then got it on our bedroom wall when she ran through. Yuck. I still need to clean the wall.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff got Jordan new clothes and helped clean up Jordan's seat and get him some new food. Then he proceeded to arrange for a carpet cleaning. Apparently carpet cleaning companies are doing as poorly in this economy as all other businesses, because they were prompt and arranged a cleaning for the weekend. Yay!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So... fast-forward to the day the carpet cleaner is supposed to come. Being overly tired for no good reason, I slept in quite a bit. Jeff got up at a fairly reasonable time and was all ready, but needed help moving the furniture from the living room into the kitchen. I got up and helped him, and we even got Jordan's help! Hooray for kids (well, kid).</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The carpet cleaner called about 20 minutes before he was scheduled to arrive, saying that he would be early. Nice, fast service, but we still needed to vacuum! So Jeff ran upstairs, got the vacuum, and started vacuuming while Jordan and I finished moving the furniture. Jeff got about half the floor done before the guy arrived.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, the guy came in and started his preliminary work of finding various stains and determining how bad they are (using a really weird stain-o-meter thing). Leaving Jeff to discuss the strategy of cleaning carpets, I snuck to the refrigerator to get a drink. After grabbing a Mountain Dew (yummy breakfast...), I realized that we didn't really have a decent selection there and refilled the cream soda stash from above the fridge. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDMokfws9RbBBg9GvLcFQ6tIzao1_DX3D9BLpEZYxu-lkHkhaKkG5y3PMGLHsdstLGxi7t0K6VWwtV4YPgGI5vshq727_xZdCMrIttar5kJ0gVu76-FXWzgeXJLcqKlQRv-5z_7jjxvKS/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDMokfws9RbBBg9GvLcFQ6tIzao1_DX3D9BLpEZYxu-lkHkhaKkG5y3PMGLHsdstLGxi7t0K6VWwtV4YPgGI5vshq727_xZdCMrIttar5kJ0gVu76-FXWzgeXJLcqKlQRv-5z_7jjxvKS/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324212947658037218" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">So, now the fridge was fully stocked with cream soda. However, the other column for cans was still completely empty. What do you do when you are out of drinks? Look on top of the fridge, of course!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpljA2ZXpgR-HYC66cRgBBB_79UixjIRSO4_J1HYIpJA3I-iHzFRX5vcrhSzFJVFyLx9Gkpa8jCNTaPbUqbLz-lHqXFIvAAjoREQrBSpYoNEMRZRdGqaJc2TaxHgJnqhMi0VarabhjtC4s/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpljA2ZXpgR-HYC66cRgBBB_79UixjIRSO4_J1HYIpJA3I-iHzFRX5vcrhSzFJVFyLx9Gkpa8jCNTaPbUqbLz-lHqXFIvAAjoREQrBSpYoNEMRZRdGqaJc2TaxHgJnqhMi0VarabhjtC4s/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213310514378434" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">Hm. Only water and cream soda. This required a garage run. Since you can see the top of the garage door in the picture (it's white, just above the right side of the fridge), I didn't have far to go. Jeff was having an excellent conversation with the carpet cleaner about 10 feet behind me.<br /></div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CCQdp8KlvJp_VeGTjzy1hFh02-6-2VRrn_-K_g3ANsgS4fULXvE8QfZDvZzJreKvzdolcya4JDikma_KO5AkBs8DMRTgAR_5ajMbma3XLWDobHM_iIYzVm3LgLgvdlzxwB0f00i95iuc/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CCQdp8KlvJp_VeGTjzy1hFh02-6-2VRrn_-K_g3ANsgS4fULXvE8QfZDvZzJreKvzdolcya4JDikma_KO5AkBs8DMRTgAR_5ajMbma3XLWDobHM_iIYzVm3LgLgvdlzxwB0f00i95iuc/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213916669116962" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">Yay! I moved toward the door, opened it, and looked into the garage.<br /></div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggN4mWDGjF_5AaOyCEhIdryAjZHpEVGjj030lClqfXdwb9tS0yj94uDQoMnaVFjUozuSh9CzLH3y2PwyOnG5T5vwvqdhXrS67bjXE1LqRQgDaJ05I_-UDHdGMeNXGELSSw_NZf1Ai_VTSn/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggN4mWDGjF_5AaOyCEhIdryAjZHpEVGjj030lClqfXdwb9tS0yj94uDQoMnaVFjUozuSh9CzLH3y2PwyOnG5T5vwvqdhXrS67bjXE1LqRQgDaJ05I_-UDHdGMeNXGELSSw_NZf1Ai_VTSn/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324214168838957138" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">So far, so good. However, upon reaching the first wooden step (we now have a massive ongoing debate over how many steps there are here - I say 3; Jeff and Jordan both say 2), I stepped funny and twisted my ankle, calling for an imminent fall onto concrete.<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A split-second decision made me realize that hitting cold, hard concrete would not be the proper way to start the day. I flailed, probably looking a lot like a newborn bird trying to take flight. Luckily there was no one watching. Or maybe it was not so lucky - they may have reached out to catch me.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I reached for anything I could find to prevent me from experiencing a short drop and a sudden stop, knowing I would probably be knocked unconscious if I actually hit ground.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Luck be with me! I found something to hold on to! The previous owners had a dog, and they installed a pet door in the door to the garage, which we have the insert in to prevent Smoky from using it. Wonderful for the dog. Not so wonderful for me...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCOyvZgxwVrCWl5MXE05UQju7lC_HIvcYy04YDXJBuU5h3Hn25zvpwhQ6_oc91QRR0c1dXEe34EDphJMwKIhdAkMrmMO8lpuy80StfStdFnqZLpfsEVYE01VWfafpTc09VZoctWb-aj0e/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCOyvZgxwVrCWl5MXE05UQju7lC_HIvcYy04YDXJBuU5h3Hn25zvpwhQ6_oc91QRR0c1dXEe34EDphJMwKIhdAkMrmMO8lpuy80StfStdFnqZLpfsEVYE01VWfafpTc09VZoctWb-aj0e/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324246510476159282" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Somehow, in all my ridiculous flailing, I managed to snag the edge of the sharp metal. It helped me regain my balance just enough to prevent me from experiencing an unsatisfying splat. However, that good luck was also bad luck, in that the metal sliced me open. While standing there at the bottom of the stairs (which I mysteriously traversed in the normal fashion, not as gravity wanted me to), I glanced at my hand. I shouldn't have looked. I had blood running down several fingers and a bunch of now-unused skin all over my middle finger. I was feeling fine before checking my hand. Now it was a good thing I hadn't eaten anything yet...</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I stood there for a moment, debating whether I should still grab any drinks, as was my intention when I set out on this little adventure. I opted not to, as I could feel the blood draining from my head to my feet and I didn't want to have to clean up a bunch of soda from the floor when I dropped it on my way inside. Trust me, if you know my luck, all 12 cans would have burst open and we would have had sticky soda all over everything. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I managed to get back inside without passing out, grabbed my unopened Mountain Dew from the counter and walked over to where Jeff was still talking with the carpet cleaner. They were deep in discussion about the cause of a particular stain. By this time I was really going into shock (I'm such a wuss) and I was beginning to sweat like I was the star athlete in the 4th quarter of some major game trying to make the final score to move the team past a tie. Or maybe a dinosaur was chasing me. Whatever the case, I held the can to the back of my neck and it felt marvelous. I longed for a giant can to climb into. But I had to make do with the one can.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff and the carpet guy were going on and on. I held my hand behind my back (hopefully not dripping blood on myself and the kitchen floor), hoping the carpet guy would move out of my way. I really didn't want either of them to see my hand; I was sure they would both overreact if they did. I tried to encourage the end of the conversation by stating that the original stain came from the cat, but the larger stain was from us trying to clean up. No one seemed to wonder why I had my soda on my neck... or why my hand was behind my back. But the guy wouldn't move, and I wasn't about to push past him, as he was spread out on the floor, taking up the entire space in front of me. It isn't a big area, as you can see here. With a wall on each side of the camera, he was firmly planted like the horizontal bar of the letter H:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDgnelzn8YVSNW7KKMcOghA1DQQfzCS3TYtewU_sDb6Ti4L3o8xkvgFggtV2kqonof7AOv9WtPlp_3f-Vzrl0O-LzTwFjfLaJAgUWUjykfgbuC2aBDiGSHEq_hoVeGvw5qfCSsX_a7YFbY/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+005.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDgnelzn8YVSNW7KKMcOghA1DQQfzCS3TYtewU_sDb6Ti4L3o8xkvgFggtV2kqonof7AOv9WtPlp_3f-Vzrl0O-LzTwFjfLaJAgUWUjykfgbuC2aBDiGSHEq_hoVeGvw5qfCSsX_a7YFbY/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324232462720713442" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I made some comments about how we tried so hard to clean the carpet ourselves, but it made things worse than they were, and finally the carpet guy was satisfied with that stain and he stood up. He got his laser measurer out and began measuring the room. This allowed me some space to move from the kitchen to the stairs. I turned to Jeff and said, "I have to go upstairs." He seemed surprised and asked why? Later he told me that he thought I had to hurry to the bathroom (I was fairly pale) and that was what my rush was about. I wish. I showed him my hand and he just gulped and nodded. He didn't even have the presence of mind to ask what happened. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">(Note: Jeff has informed me that he didn't lack the presence of mind to ask what happened. Instead, he saw the severity of the wound, combined with my ashen palor, and decided that any attempt at conversation would just end badly for all participants, and simply ushered me upstairs.)</span> He also later told me that he thinks I am a great actress, to be able to pull off the hiding-of-the-bloody-hand stunt and not have either of them notice.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I calmly walked up the stairs, went to the linen closet (which is also where we store our first aid stuff), and was in the process of getting the Neosporin and an entire box of Band-Aids when Jordan stepped out of his room to talk to me. I don't know why he chose to do that. He never does it any other time when I'm standing there, and this was one time I didn't want him to! Knowing that he inherited my squeamishness in emergency situations, I was fairly certain that he would pass out. Or throw up. Or both. But, he looked at my hand, asked what happened, said some sympathetic things, and returned to his room, none the worse. In the midst of losing blood, seeing black spots, hearing the blood rush in my ears, and being incredibly light-headed, I stood there amazed at his new-found resiliency.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I then took my precious first aid supplies to my bathroom, turned on the cold water, plunged my hand in, and laid my head on my other arm. It felt like an hour that I stayed in that position, but it was probably no more than 10 minutes. Jeff came in and checked on me, asking all the right questions about what had happened. Telling him that I did this while falling down the stairs seemed silly, but I wasn't creative enough to change the story to make me seem more heroic...</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"There was a minor earthquake and your grandmother's fine china fell out of the cupboard and I managed to save it, but I broke a regular drinking glass in the process and it sliced me open. But I saved the china!"</div><div><br /></div><div>No?</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"While I was in the garage getting some drinks, a child was riding her bike in the street and would have been hit by a car had I not intervened and injured myself for her safety."</div><div><br /></div><div>Probably not something I would do...</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">"My wedding ring fell into the sink while the disposal was running and I was so intent on saving the beautiful token of our marriage that I didn't think of the risk to myself."<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">This is one of the reasons I rarely wear my wedding ring - too many bad images of garbage disposals, toilets, poopy diapers, etc.<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, having a severe lack of creativity, and knowing that Jeff would never believe a silly heroic story anyway, I told the truth. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I was trying to get more drinks for the fridge from the garage, stepped wrong going down the stairs, twisted my ankle, and sliced my hand open on the pet door."</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm not sure he believed this, either. But by this time, I didn't really care. I was rather pleased to have my hand fairly numb (no stinging anymore, just throbbing). I just wanted to keep my hand under the water and have my head on my other arm.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff kept asking me if I hit my head when I fell. I kept responding that I didn't actually fall. For some reason, neither of us could move past this issue. We repeated this line of question and answer over and over. He finally pointed to my head and said, "is that what happened to your head when you fell?" I looked, and sure enough, I had a giant red mark across my forehead. Fortunately, it was from laying on my arm on the bathroom counter for 10+ minutes, not from a kiss from the concrete in the garage.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I then attempted to turn off the water so I could dry up and put my bandages on. Jeff wouldn't let me. He grabbed my wrist and said, "you have to remove the dead skin or it won't heal properly." I told him it wasn't dead skin, but he persisted. He finally found some tweezers in the drawer and came at me. I screamed and flailed some more (apparently I'm more of a flailer than I knew...).</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, dancing around the bathroom, losing blood, and still in shock, I was unable to keep my distance from Jeff and his evil tweezers. I resigned myself to putting my hand back under water and my head back on my arm. He was extremely gentle, but it wasn't completely painless... I felt the sting as he ripped off the flesh from my body. Okay, as he gently tugged the small amount of dead skin from my finger. But it felt more like I was being quartered... I'm surprised that Jordan, the carpet guy, and the neighbors didn't all call 911, as I was carrying on like I was being fed into a wood chopper! Or like a child getting a bandage ripped off.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff finally finished his evil torture, I got my hand dried off, Jeff got the Neosporin and various Band-Aids on it (on my thumb and middle finger), and I promptly began to black out. I made it to the bed and Jeff turned the fan on and opened the window. This helped a lot. He got me my book (I still love my Kindle), turned the light on, and left to check on the carpet guy, who was doing an amazing job that I really didn't care about at that point in time.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIC8u4qEFWCGhNS__NLhY2LIyapKNdWcKabH_wsekMuba4jvJTFboeDGb31dAty4bFzqbK0BbtnZ3vQApHEpCPSrdYhNnQd_rH6nLh_4xZXsfcwcQGbEZTOq-Cqk4itYANlPY269D4AKZ/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIC8u4qEFWCGhNS__NLhY2LIyapKNdWcKabH_wsekMuba4jvJTFboeDGb31dAty4bFzqbK0BbtnZ3vQApHEpCPSrdYhNnQd_rH6nLh_4xZXsfcwcQGbEZTOq-Cqk4itYANlPY269D4AKZ/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324240792230981538" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When Jeff checked on me, I requested some pain medicine. Not wanting to go downstairs and step on the carpet while the guy was working, Jeff got me some Ecotrin from his side of the bed to soothe the pain. I took the pills, joking that it's a good thing I'm not a hemophiliac, as Ecotrin is a blood thinner. Little did I know that this would still prevent decent clotting, and ended up having to change Band-Aids a few hours later as I had begun to bleed through my originals...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgtf12jMa9JDR7AsrrJH5F3yFO7icO3HvOHAz747D7KoFMM6FjDylGBKpa_cLkLkcWYJw5UNxSifJTPNY0zSuuuFGhzVQMYtUsTLueHcdeX-NQ5pYJHsJ1yoayW7csqqNT4BqweXxRwb7/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgtf12jMa9JDR7AsrrJH5F3yFO7icO3HvOHAz747D7KoFMM6FjDylGBKpa_cLkLkcWYJw5UNxSifJTPNY0zSuuuFGhzVQMYtUsTLueHcdeX-NQ5pYJHsJ1yoayW7csqqNT4BqweXxRwb7/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324232064415513026" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">By this time my hand was feeling a bit better in the actual cut areas. However, my ring finger was sore and stiff. My right shoulder, elbow, and wrist were sore and stiff. My right hip, knee, and ankle were sore and stiff. This was turning into a full-fledged war wound! I guess the body really fully reacts during self-preservation. I was exhausted, recuperating, and still had no food in me. Jeff brought me some crackers and a plate so I could have something. I ate some, trying to keep my ring finger moving, and then fell asleep. This was good for me. Bad for my ring finger.<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When I awoke, Jeff and I discussed dinner options, and we were reminded of a movie promise we made each other a few weeks ago. So I found out where and when Monsters vs. Aliens (the IMAX one) was playing, and we set out to go see it. It was great fun. However, my hand still hurt. My hip and knee were feeling much better, but my ankle, shoulder, elbow, and wrist were still easily aggravated (but none of the pain was constant, as it was in my hand).</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fast-forward again to the next day. My hip, knee, and ankle are all feeling just fine. My right shoulder is stiff, but no longer sore. My elbow only hurts when I twist my arm. My wrist is fine, but the palm of my hand feels bruised (but looks fine). My ring finger is all swollen (making it tough to type), my thumb seems to be on its way to a decent healing job, but my poor middle finger is just gross. The lower, smaller cut will heal okay. But the larger wound is just yucky. Not only is it still open and raw, but it's somewhat swollen and has a deep bruise developing beneath the actual cut. But hopefully, with some care and time, it will heal just fine.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Apparently it's not easy to take a picture of one's dominent thumb. I probably took over 12 shots and this is the best I could get! The wound is actually longer than what it appears to be in the picture, but it healed a lot overnight. There's still a faint red streak extending to the edge of my thumb.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fLbe8FeIkRlZC1X0om547E3Jz2TuLSaiFOK506tyb7hSiYiQF_rVwYOYEEMWwL-RTTZYBkdhuOqj1Yu6khp0alRkHwpi_LMxBEsEZSd_3ZEFCwHe3WyhB4CM3A9xGyivgYxo5pqliIRE/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+018.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fLbe8FeIkRlZC1X0om547E3Jz2TuLSaiFOK506tyb7hSiYiQF_rVwYOYEEMWwL-RTTZYBkdhuOqj1Yu6khp0alRkHwpi_LMxBEsEZSd_3ZEFCwHe3WyhB4CM3A9xGyivgYxo5pqliIRE/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+018.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324250003277635250" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">This one is just gross, and you can even see the blood still under my fingernail. I hope it heals okay. You can see how swollen my ring finger is getting. It still hurts a lot!<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUqwf7HfJHWTkH8_kLu2tTfHvtEAm2K06bW2X1m1CNscwPX4OlyGhPLk2PCOL9TFah0IlooYLabW0eXv6Tac5wHZhOR7nji_1QPK-CE4Sq8z4DCHkwUBqgB_yhqwgc14WZq-o7Kz67SiR/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUqwf7HfJHWTkH8_kLu2tTfHvtEAm2K06bW2X1m1CNscwPX4OlyGhPLk2PCOL9TFah0IlooYLabW0eXv6Tac5wHZhOR7nji_1QPK-CE4Sq8z4DCHkwUBqgB_yhqwgc14WZq-o7Kz67SiR/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+031.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324250698961295122" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">I later found this picture I took where my thumb is easier to see than my finger, although I was trying to get my finger... As you can see, it's healing quite well. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWb0LWjJ22nuTKzBvaJNIbqg3PcG5wZRNGeQxcDGzKWzNnjEjT5n08tltZUVEDQM6DyQPDhpbLAnOVDNN46H6qqaX5ngvQQaQuKfBqMW-0ZwtJY4hudS1XQzpc9dqTdHqDUcvzIfqK7Pxd/s1600-h/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+026.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWb0LWjJ22nuTKzBvaJNIbqg3PcG5wZRNGeQxcDGzKWzNnjEjT5n08tltZUVEDQM6DyQPDhpbLAnOVDNN46H6qqaX5ngvQQaQuKfBqMW-0ZwtJY4hudS1XQzpc9dqTdHqDUcvzIfqK7Pxd/s400/Tara+Falls+Down+the+Stairs+026.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324251405981130066" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thanks to Jeff for taking care of me during my cowardly incident. And thanks to the carpet guy for doing such a great job on our carpet. Next time, I'll let someone else stock the fridge. Oh, and Happy Easter.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-75790558829566334562009-03-26T08:38:00.024-06:002009-03-26T22:54:36.915-06:00Blizzard?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"The National Weather Service is calling for a big blizzard today!" -- </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Groundhog Day</span></span></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Given that news, the entire state of Colorado is in a panic. Schools are closed in preparation. I don't get it, personally, but hey - Jordan gets a snow day out of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have decided to blog the day. I'll take a picture every 30-60 minutes and watch the blizzard roll in. We'll see if my lack of faith in the meteorologists is worthwhile or if I need to rethink my belief in news reporters.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, to start us off, this is what we woke up to at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">6:30am</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEied6JkfnGelu-YKnDpgv6KpI3HqL5vdQQmLMSbs1o9dvy_b-sovdGAmOuKgnpVgtMP-LS7IWZo8mp11LSOpgDebglzcR5ZE3yLi-0P9uode6_DvlxxlYnJbNwhyphenhyphen0Z8SKaPml3hblbyK4bN/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEied6JkfnGelu-YKnDpgv6KpI3HqL5vdQQmLMSbs1o9dvy_b-sovdGAmOuKgnpVgtMP-LS7IWZo8mp11LSOpgDebglzcR5ZE3yLi-0P9uode6_DvlxxlYnJbNwhyphenhyphen0Z8SKaPml3hblbyK4bN/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317507180188464290" /></a>Less than an inch on the grass & roofs and nothing but a bit of moisture on the roads</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Fast forward to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">8:30am</span> when I decided to take another picture, this time from the office window</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjha_8Cv8VonrH70NpzBbF7xO0zfA0vxamMLBxqXhft0UFByUxpbYQvQXrk2Fd5tN_V2f6ijg3ITFBe_y3x5HvVZnqWY8ZYBlJ5GjxJwERDLZJUrDbtwAWXJnuHvt6zGH43UR6TbJRoFcPc/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjha_8Cv8VonrH70NpzBbF7xO0zfA0vxamMLBxqXhft0UFByUxpbYQvQXrk2Fd5tN_V2f6ijg3ITFBe_y3x5HvVZnqWY8ZYBlJ5GjxJwERDLZJUrDbtwAWXJnuHvt6zGH43UR6TbJRoFcPc/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317507795240005586" /></a>A little more snow on the grass, but the roads are still fine. You can see a couple of flakes in the shot, as it has begun snowing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">9:35am</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauIcx0KQcZidNNNdMCP78rcsvodFa4lztvgot7Und-q1_O_WVXcZ9B6Kp-Qcir-DyoLBQVeFrBh2mNDx6m4_cA0dU0s4aPBHh2eM3CoCgRLle7nRbjiMthRFfIWU1pEGvF-6H6cIJEcxu/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauIcx0KQcZidNNNdMCP78rcsvodFa4lztvgot7Und-q1_O_WVXcZ9B6Kp-Qcir-DyoLBQVeFrBh2mNDx6m4_cA0dU0s4aPBHh2eM3CoCgRLle7nRbjiMthRFfIWU1pEGvF-6H6cIJEcxu/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317521907636666754" /></a>More flakes in the air. Nothing on the road, and not much change to the grass. You can no longer see the road and houses in the distance, though.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">10:50am</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EgSJGDCZfyCKPgRkVNExBlAS9EE1UEPl50116lbZPesWjbgLZR-6Dfe-pOveg4OlR5fohItPR4NlToeuiYiXiPfqpBP4nR2bkPx6EfyU6iNtln6XPgY1DGrhonuYgoM1kOx-QHvlNRRO/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+011.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EgSJGDCZfyCKPgRkVNExBlAS9EE1UEPl50116lbZPesWjbgLZR-6Dfe-pOveg4OlR5fohItPR4NlToeuiYiXiPfqpBP4nR2bkPx6EfyU6iNtln6XPgY1DGrhonuYgoM1kOx-QHvlNRRO/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317546776512822466" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bah. This isn't getting to be the big blizzard I was thinking of. Not that I want it or even expect it. The snow on the grass hasn't changed, the roads are still fine, and you can now see more of the road & houses in the distance.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">11:45am</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAFpPJzR7l5hBwpjZ1a9W-ht6abvFcah8fdMWfXej-GlEpvpjpJQcyGNJDgtHbDmbxVTesdUATVRk97agk5iHKZOpb_qQKNfTGFsGYiuGAicEAbO2MPCwgfI7Yv3mpFlcainEVEKu4BFK/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAFpPJzR7l5hBwpjZ1a9W-ht6abvFcah8fdMWfXej-GlEpvpjpJQcyGNJDgtHbDmbxVTesdUATVRk97agk5iHKZOpb_qQKNfTGFsGYiuGAicEAbO2MPCwgfI7Yv3mpFlcainEVEKu4BFK/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317554184940330274" /></a>It's not any different on the ground, although there is a lot more snow in the air and the flakes are bigger. The wind has kicked up a bit, too. The road & houses in the distance have disappeared again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">12:15pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjb6493tBr-Od56yJseNPBPWJYEgNAS1IFRF9DNibqOJeCly0QYC_kQclidASJ1BzQrR1DjOTSVgInCFPE6l31F-ut9xZ-xHlU8vLKahlvqcMBuJuNWh1dqRKTzru0h2XLCr_nq09jWq9x/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+013.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjb6493tBr-Od56yJseNPBPWJYEgNAS1IFRF9DNibqOJeCly0QYC_kQclidASJ1BzQrR1DjOTSVgInCFPE6l31F-ut9xZ-xHlU8vLKahlvqcMBuJuNWh1dqRKTzru0h2XLCr_nq09jWq9x/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+013.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317569042073012226" /></a>Okay. So now it's starting to come down. The flakes are really big still. The snow is now beginning to stick to the roads.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">12:30pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFaGtv1HqY5vxyJ5lg-Eu4Ol0o6Sj5MN7iqLJ0V_Zw3UNz2lL1BFG7jcg8xVI0cqbI8jEwY-sKm_Pm0nsUsyQGYCoKaa6uEXuOD0J0YOTjBCZfEGYkWeVZoxWMBC08b873X8p6e5THGGAh/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+014.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFaGtv1HqY5vxyJ5lg-Eu4Ol0o6Sj5MN7iqLJ0V_Zw3UNz2lL1BFG7jcg8xVI0cqbI8jEwY-sKm_Pm0nsUsyQGYCoKaa6uEXuOD0J0YOTjBCZfEGYkWeVZoxWMBC08b873X8p6e5THGGAh/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+014.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317569412053721538" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">More snow. Definitely sticking and not melting away. The flakes are smaller, but there are more of them in the air.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">12:50pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_lli98YG19y2wrbd-ax9kK_rj_q1gFIi50Dz7dbflYSZUPmolR5T2rkDXXtEvoohOypKsLgDd0RGQET8cP6LP9p9Z7B9nyr38dj41LIdjvL7rgyL6nowrQZNsKvOdZ7TDXvZkjR-eWPy/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_lli98YG19y2wrbd-ax9kK_rj_q1gFIi50Dz7dbflYSZUPmolR5T2rkDXXtEvoohOypKsLgDd0RGQET8cP6LP9p9Z7B9nyr38dj41LIdjvL7rgyL6nowrQZNsKvOdZ7TDXvZkjR-eWPy/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317571093464480194" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Wow. I'm impressed. I'd say there are now 2 inches of snow in the grass, heavy blowing snow, and near whiteout conditions. You can see the bare spot in the street where a neighbor drove up, parked for about 10 minutes while his wife ran inside for something, and then they drove off again. That's quite a bit of snow in 10 minutes!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">1:00pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">I won't put another picture up yet, but the spot in the street where the car was sitting is now completely gone, as are the tire tracks. It's still coming down quick, seeing as it's only been another 10 minutes. Lots of horizontal snow in the air. But it seems like plenty is still falling from the clouds!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">2:15pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzDiuWJSWjE0j-4TPykTz9T-FFBaGn23CGVe1w5lTsNDOmHzdHq_cmtkCuzbR81UwFlGt8UozJtKwV9H1giCS4lQR95FhdycaS8duA24ZHJg4AaazRWCW3QzsZXraOplLRHDR6UBd1xio/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzDiuWJSWjE0j-4TPykTz9T-FFBaGn23CGVe1w5lTsNDOmHzdHq_cmtkCuzbR81UwFlGt8UozJtKwV9H1giCS4lQR95FhdycaS8duA24ZHJg4AaazRWCW3QzsZXraOplLRHDR6UBd1xio/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317595140838738882" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, it's slowed down a bit. I think the snow is blowing more than falling. Lots of horizontal white stuff. But visibility is better and some of the roads & driveways are melting a bit. I'm sure it'll be icy tonight! Lots of businesses are closing early, and Jeff is on his way home from work. If the snow keeps up, he'll probably be home tomorrow, too!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">3:45pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCYFZn6eLBnFQtLs7uqtmbOXNrMsvXMBJqoc4geIUVrxwwP4uyktZP9lspaArrMXYNMEUVnOVAEp3zfp3F_bNjU8FpPrNhLAOqqtdaW5tEWxBviUhLzlj1czgyt5FDqJbb8JZXObCAjal/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+017.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCYFZn6eLBnFQtLs7uqtmbOXNrMsvXMBJqoc4geIUVrxwwP4uyktZP9lspaArrMXYNMEUVnOVAEp3zfp3F_bNjU8FpPrNhLAOqqtdaW5tEWxBviUhLzlj1czgyt5FDqJbb8JZXObCAjal/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+017.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317615222978229698" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The snow has tapered off, but not quit. It's still coming down and blowing around. But the visibility is better, as you can see the road & houses in the distance. Jeff is still working on getting home. Traffic is completely backed up. He just turned off his side street and onto Arapahoe. It's 1.4 miles from his building to Arapahoe. Yargh.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">5:00pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA77GdQGX_D6YiorK2FW5-cJDTWAxNBikeRe0oNkamK4uPnKBGIooKI3z9pWqpei4OdItaZSLzQfOmiCJuHAhdxB1PnE18SykhWRHRk-sjojBuFS86jkjqVeK24oscKI_eD9kCMz5UmHkP/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+018.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA77GdQGX_D6YiorK2FW5-cJDTWAxNBikeRe0oNkamK4uPnKBGIooKI3z9pWqpei4OdItaZSLzQfOmiCJuHAhdxB1PnE18SykhWRHRk-sjojBuFS86jkjqVeK24oscKI_eD9kCMz5UmHkP/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+018.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317635658235705090" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, Jeff finally made it home. It is continuing to snow here, and it's getting deeper. While it doesn't appear that much has changed, the lack of getting better isn't a good thing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">6:15pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9H8RoL-KnumdhZJCtY4Oin5RQJPR1hFh12sEbOH7gKqwIsjmxykKVQP6-NjiTVXDNjrLGa_S-VGv1IFuS7egA2c9mYaC1EANsSRXOGfbScufjHnNvV4yohLN8bTORMcdCIDFVjyugOnj/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+019.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9H8RoL-KnumdhZJCtY4Oin5RQJPR1hFh12sEbOH7gKqwIsjmxykKVQP6-NjiTVXDNjrLGa_S-VGv1IFuS7egA2c9mYaC1EANsSRXOGfbScufjHnNvV4yohLN8bTORMcdCIDFVjyugOnj/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317654654245113906" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, aside from the picture looking like it was taken at noon rather than 6pm, nothing has changed. Our backyard has more snow, but the amount on the streets still seems about the same. News reports are now saying that the storm is finishing up sooner than anticipated. Yay.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">7:15pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmXz1NgLUYovt4aPn1wdjhwbyyk-XdqXlOSG7CJ-5MWnE1_9BDmjVnSfig8SvA3SqgfcpappmtiryJZuSmbb-BK2rmG6C9CewkpgRGM1vDSiqIrNGh1chTYQ8miZl58d7jOku_wC4WADY/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmXz1NgLUYovt4aPn1wdjhwbyyk-XdqXlOSG7CJ-5MWnE1_9BDmjVnSfig8SvA3SqgfcpappmtiryJZuSmbb-BK2rmG6C9CewkpgRGM1vDSiqIrNGh1chTYQ8miZl58d7jOku_wC4WADY/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+020.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317669926783921218" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ahh, it's getting dark out! The snow hasn't changed much. People are now shoveling their driveways. They either think the storm is almost over, or they think we're going to get a ton more and want to make their next shoveling job easier. As it stands, I can't see us getting much more. The storm seems about spent and the blizzard watch is over for us. But, the snow is still coming down, although it's difficult to see. I guess I'll check again in an hour or so.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">8:20pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-JE3FEn5CEmUxtumZpgDUSaRMXiUtW5HqAVkM_J3CBXpGMPs7dWteWAqjF8_-huyn5IOXAxDfwKLc0lQDQaH1gqMZG0mFLv6z2cE_R0KnY9U3Y3WFrgI0AfuNGXkO5JBTheIfaX8srS8/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-JE3FEn5CEmUxtumZpgDUSaRMXiUtW5HqAVkM_J3CBXpGMPs7dWteWAqjF8_-huyn5IOXAxDfwKLc0lQDQaH1gqMZG0mFLv6z2cE_R0KnY9U3Y3WFrgI0AfuNGXkO5JBTheIfaX8srS8/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317686351247750962" /></a>A look at our neighbor's house, since they have their porch light on making the snow is easy to see. The photo looks grainy, but it's all snow. The wind is still gusting quite a bit, the snow is nicely falling, and the temperature is 13 degrees but feels like -6. Fun. I sure hope that there's no school tomorrow and that Jeff works from home (although that means I don't get to do my woodworking project unless we move the car from the garage). </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Still 8:20pm</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7NZ0S4V3qAsMZ5cmSFZVW5B_uunXWKMy7i9_1kyTx34czXOdoL7WxuffS2YZyqFkyYzB6kOpu1LNhye__9XGTJ5VmwrmFazdJ63hDIJfnGlm-r5g73cit343IRbEJG-PrRkZUEzGTD4Yf/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7NZ0S4V3qAsMZ5cmSFZVW5B_uunXWKMy7i9_1kyTx34czXOdoL7WxuffS2YZyqFkyYzB6kOpu1LNhye__9XGTJ5VmwrmFazdJ63hDIJfnGlm-r5g73cit343IRbEJG-PrRkZUEzGTD4Yf/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+023.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317686345092554402" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">A look in the original direction. You can see the lights on in the houses in the distance, so obviously the snow isn't coming down too hard. I'd still hate to be out in it. I'm sure it's slick.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">10:45pm</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhyX9v44vtHosztr8dC6ecO-nSjSCROsu4inXJh5O3sFE_ns2ZDJTL9o5dbiaKdI9AXJHSvdNA5yyZNUnvAIziblHvvdXT2qksCAFy1fRAE65p2JQn9YRdjKlXaF3pNcrvVqYbNhMgDjU/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+027.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhyX9v44vtHosztr8dC6ecO-nSjSCROsu4inXJh5O3sFE_ns2ZDJTL9o5dbiaKdI9AXJHSvdNA5yyZNUnvAIziblHvvdXT2qksCAFy1fRAE65p2JQn9YRdjKlXaF3pNcrvVqYbNhMgDjU/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+027.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317724321925004802" /></a>A shot of our old barbecue that we need to throw out. Quite a bit of snow for us this winter. Hopefully Colorado will not have as many fire danger days in early Spring now! The pictures had to be taken from inside the house, as the screen door is frozen shut... both Jeff and I pulled and pried to get the thing open and it just wouldn't. And I couldn't bring myself to go out the front door and traipse across all the snow just to get the picture I wanted. :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">10:45 again - last post for tonight</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCF-rSm7Ew3HWCb5kjhe3izyXow4ZC33KQzSexbYwj5_pNiCLUI1eIW9uhZvNuic2PInttKdkMQSgQw729UlB-yO3152B3vAAqitJFjkKAI6HYxkLWDPehyTv_ajA3pNFHdYKAPe3_9mn/s1600-h/March+26+2009+Blizzard+026.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCF-rSm7Ew3HWCb5kjhe3izyXow4ZC33KQzSexbYwj5_pNiCLUI1eIW9uhZvNuic2PInttKdkMQSgQw729UlB-yO3152B3vAAqitJFjkKAI6HYxkLWDPehyTv_ajA3pNFHdYKAPe3_9mn/s400/March+26+2009+Blizzard+026.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317724324147497698" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, to end on the same scene as we started with, here's a shot of the backyard showing how much snow accumulated throughout the day. It's still snowing out there, and is supposed to continue through the night. School is canceled for tomorrow so Jordan gets to start his Spring Break a few days early.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I may take some more pictures tomorrow, if the snow continues to provide any interest for me. Since it was too cold for me to work in the garage this evening, I spent a lovely time playing WoW with Jeff. Who can complain about that? :)</div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-22437101085673319322009-03-19T15:49:00.068-06:002009-03-23T20:45:42.883-06:00Happy Birthday, Jordan!<div style="text-align: center;">Jordan was born on Wednesday, March 19, 1997 at 9:21pm following 18 hours of labor.</div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm missing pictures from when he turned 1, 10, and 11, but all the other years are here. In defense of the lack of 1998 pics, I can only say that we didn't have a camera and therefore only have a limited amount of pictures... somewhere. I may find them. Regarding the lack of 2007 & 2008 pictures, I really don't know why I can't find any. I'm not usually a photographer, but we should have some pictures roaming around somewhere. I may also encounter these in the coming days.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">1997</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">First Week</span> - With Dad, shortly after coming home from the hospital<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSVssGwh6B-EzAPKEDC1Gqg_5Kv_XRrqRGpKmbXGGIhAwzq7vgbBq6YrSTWbKNQ56vGKxZ2ZlyDsFTF77sjaS9SFfl8S16YF5wj9W3zfc042TkX3vSP6L9pvF5nDDQ3R5g06TnZDgpmPz/s1600-h/Age+5+days+Dad.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSVssGwh6B-EzAPKEDC1Gqg_5Kv_XRrqRGpKmbXGGIhAwzq7vgbBq6YrSTWbKNQ56vGKxZ2ZlyDsFTF77sjaS9SFfl8S16YF5wj9W3zfc042TkX3vSP6L9pvF5nDDQ3R5g06TnZDgpmPz/s400/Age+5+days+Dad.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316505995960867026" /></a><br />We didn't get much sleep during the night for the first month, so we took naps whenever we could.<br /><br />With Mom, shortly after coming home from the hospital<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpN-Gd1Q9nnBkgY2Z6OeTxBt_GBXWVieL7pPSOkW-fW8vCUc_0Z0o-bP4pzMilzcDcsxjftF65OBObvSxUU7VdOYU4Mr0jLapbQPrGYCzsy1t3SzIPEfGBUmj1SzjGPInrqe8QNX06uObF/s1600-h/Age+5+days+Mom.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 382px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpN-Gd1Q9nnBkgY2Z6OeTxBt_GBXWVieL7pPSOkW-fW8vCUc_0Z0o-bP4pzMilzcDcsxjftF65OBObvSxUU7VdOYU4Mr0jLapbQPrGYCzsy1t3SzIPEfGBUmj1SzjGPInrqe8QNX06uObF/s400/Age+5+days+Mom.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504273201916370" /></a><br />We were both so unfamiliar with infants that it took a while to become comfortable with holding him</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">6 Months Old</span> - Could there be a more comfortable sleeping position?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXrHIrFutn8jy4_ZY6Fp-9ujKmEpqCJ6hfUbdxNPxtO43xXdOfJCjr0SMiVZKeu6MkdI3AfiVo_qLA3r1vAahgaKecW8JBnvE8cSWBv0_CTXMJLt73rUWUOM-5zynreOU-we8vMF11Wbw/s1600-h/Jordan+6+months+swing.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 371px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXrHIrFutn8jy4_ZY6Fp-9ujKmEpqCJ6hfUbdxNPxtO43xXdOfJCjr0SMiVZKeu6MkdI3AfiVo_qLA3r1vAahgaKecW8JBnvE8cSWBv0_CTXMJLt73rUWUOM-5zynreOU-we8vMF11Wbw/s400/Jordan+6+months+swing.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316507612205913794" /></a><br />He loved his jumper and often slept in it like this.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">6 Months Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCu41gO3sMwvWjNC9QyhIK4VZUDKcLH5_tH_mLQCxiiTe0jx6CxhHpdH01Q0z4hFz4T5Bn7UuHpl9LQloj9Aq9KOFbqUR8OL4h1Wk3i1CX_5tx_ct3k9LzfTVoBBToJGpBwx-4mV6H3o6n/s1600-h/Jordan+6+months+2.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCu41gO3sMwvWjNC9QyhIK4VZUDKcLH5_tH_mLQCxiiTe0jx6CxhHpdH01Q0z4hFz4T5Bn7UuHpl9LQloj9Aq9KOFbqUR8OL4h1Wk3i1CX_5tx_ct3k9LzfTVoBBToJGpBwx-4mV6H3o6n/s400/Jordan+6+months+2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316508370389773074" /></a><br />After the initial settling in, Jordan was a very content baby and didn't fuss much.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">1999</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">2 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECinwQSsiOVbnIe74LurFNj2y9sLLH9u6DO7Ql0F0V9QzxmxTmvOVkNWXphuXO7q_1O_vZ8zMyvbwYNJpluV0B6IpnxaN2Tj7V2VVdOi_Vl0VV_7nArbgHddIaXrxweCqxNiEVMfqKoht/s1600-h/Age+2.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECinwQSsiOVbnIe74LurFNj2y9sLLH9u6DO7Ql0F0V9QzxmxTmvOVkNWXphuXO7q_1O_vZ8zMyvbwYNJpluV0B6IpnxaN2Tj7V2VVdOi_Vl0VV_7nArbgHddIaXrxweCqxNiEVMfqKoht/s400/Age+2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504293743688594" /></a><br />This is one of the only times we've gotten professional pictures taken (aside from school photos). I just can't bring myself to spend the money on it.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2000</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">3 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2WuX3Nh7rvgI1aI8DO8NHeIEqXGKtmkrPe05K0H64mpXzZ1oJVx6-vifwiMXMgQCknL2zyA74ZB7puZ0NITtDZANFvUQBhA_ZDMA_uLSdEdP7cNhqzqTlnEDCXJa5xDYXAC1RBio-0JZ/s1600-h/Age+3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2WuX3Nh7rvgI1aI8DO8NHeIEqXGKtmkrPe05K0H64mpXzZ1oJVx6-vifwiMXMgQCknL2zyA74ZB7puZ0NITtDZANFvUQBhA_ZDMA_uLSdEdP7cNhqzqTlnEDCXJa5xDYXAC1RBio-0JZ/s400/Age+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504307139437426" /></a><br />This lock box was his favorite thing for a few years. He played with it endlessly.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2001</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">4 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JMMlM3VHnTrnIv4rQVKCxwyiMvDq4Alk2uhYYMUYDOgElgpasBApYWnVBduUN2f0De3ZqiWgiHkoOXehed2S9ELqALtuNMCR6M2H1_cGzTtFHAfbMyWGk-2ZdrUq6oaI7e9NFLhuJ_i_/s1600-h/Age+4.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JMMlM3VHnTrnIv4rQVKCxwyiMvDq4Alk2uhYYMUYDOgElgpasBApYWnVBduUN2f0De3ZqiWgiHkoOXehed2S9ELqALtuNMCR6M2H1_cGzTtFHAfbMyWGk-2ZdrUq6oaI7e9NFLhuJ_i_/s400/Age+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504306518870002" /></a><br />No longer looking like a toddler - he's now in preschool.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2002</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">5 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78sMUzNPAZ2V3wVCt0Nep1HyU4JCuhgY3U47OdndrdUew-uuCCqxoUmTGyFYaKEFiFD3KiYpbr5NvjwTqZbwSLLat9fJXDTTeEk9AXPQDrSNhVVzEC1Sj31v_Nw7W3yq5lbLBfYnqnkBr/s1600-h/Age+5.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78sMUzNPAZ2V3wVCt0Nep1HyU4JCuhgY3U47OdndrdUew-uuCCqxoUmTGyFYaKEFiFD3KiYpbr5NvjwTqZbwSLLat9fJXDTTeEk9AXPQDrSNhVVzEC1Sj31v_Nw7W3yq5lbLBfYnqnkBr/s400/Age+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504821163278018" /></a><br />On the ferris wheel in Seattle, near the Space Needle.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2003</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">6 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6Z_fXJezo5Ak60cO_NYQ5mYP7Lh7QXF5WB3swEgOAEe5VMr49kGOFFF_p1WxlFOwF1tAVzryVXsJTI3mVldT6CrgD3_BeWt0RdmfS7s_qtOjaEk0OkAhacpdk2WwuWOAIoITQBACHkKD/s1600-h/Age+6.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6Z_fXJezo5Ak60cO_NYQ5mYP7Lh7QXF5WB3swEgOAEe5VMr49kGOFFF_p1WxlFOwF1tAVzryVXsJTI3mVldT6CrgD3_BeWt0RdmfS7s_qtOjaEk0OkAhacpdk2WwuWOAIoITQBACHkKD/s400/Age+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504834632298466" /></a><br />He enjoyed his rocket ship cake that I made for him, and was thrilled to find the candles shooting out of the bottom, as well as the large 6 candle near the top.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2004</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">7 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihOGQgvFu255HwUya44ulBu7Ap7RsFj0c5bJdrjbuZBzC05wBE3tzfBS2vXrZJk-Y2uoW4lm3m5DJ8TkKdYhbRHq8dg3H6NFXxuBPTI9CKYuX5Bw-5UyI5TrSkLKEnD5MDE4_1tA2PjKGs/s1600-h/Age+7.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihOGQgvFu255HwUya44ulBu7Ap7RsFj0c5bJdrjbuZBzC05wBE3tzfBS2vXrZJk-Y2uoW4lm3m5DJ8TkKdYhbRHq8dg3H6NFXxuBPTI9CKYuX5Bw-5UyI5TrSkLKEnD5MDE4_1tA2PjKGs/s400/Age+7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504840938756562" /></a><br />This was taken at Disneyland. We were standing in the unmoving line for the Indiana Jones ride. His grandfather had just sprayed Jordan with water and he's obviously rather miffed.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2005</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">8 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEircXvp4txIpvj4RJxYMrKhlUQSsB_JLD6JCFeAdLJKlIlYbJeO0260HbhJkZ90TDI4_Nz6PpKSDbeK8FKyrJ5D95A0aEj9ltIm3XBqTjxGItNA5qnm03UidOXhyOhzExF0InWqQHkgTx5b/s1600-h/Age+8.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEircXvp4txIpvj4RJxYMrKhlUQSsB_JLD6JCFeAdLJKlIlYbJeO0260HbhJkZ90TDI4_Nz6PpKSDbeK8FKyrJ5D95A0aEj9ltIm3XBqTjxGItNA5qnm03UidOXhyOhzExF0InWqQHkgTx5b/s400/Age+8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504843614994850" /></a><br />He loved sitting in Grandpa's car pretending to drive. Is this what will happen in only 4 years from now?!?</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2006</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">9 Years Old</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_1eKxrw2gW4Ra23MeSisrEfdAwmHAkRiKL_03opZWQv0_tFBUKZWAOH-dr1ayhIKSt9p5xXzCKv8qFe_rQZpaHMQEhOLTctDW4RUs03yF1Z1H7sL-kthtHUuTb8PLgwhgshTtDOr1fpNj/s1600-h/Age+9.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_1eKxrw2gW4Ra23MeSisrEfdAwmHAkRiKL_03opZWQv0_tFBUKZWAOH-dr1ayhIKSt9p5xXzCKv8qFe_rQZpaHMQEhOLTctDW4RUs03yF1Z1H7sL-kthtHUuTb8PLgwhgshTtDOr1fpNj/s400/Age+9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316504847188458930" /></a><br />He got a skateboard which, because he broke his arm a couple of months later and has never gotten over his fear of falling, is still mostly unused. I have given up trying to get him to be an outdoor kid.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">He broke his right arm after falling off his bike - he severely snapped both his radius and ulna<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNE6o_gl9wIPKVdq-XeTjIaKNhnZXbC-Sur8TJrwWGNCu2ANnj7NwqnggJiZcJRvrtEKnr9NRZF3Ykzge3DvxZGnAul6RyIos0O6u3hkgJhMBOB16MhZ9CX2Z4uNii50FzbgbinlYZM_XC/s1600-h/jordan_in_hospital_with_broken_arm.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNE6o_gl9wIPKVdq-XeTjIaKNhnZXbC-Sur8TJrwWGNCu2ANnj7NwqnggJiZcJRvrtEKnr9NRZF3Ykzge3DvxZGnAul6RyIos0O6u3hkgJhMBOB16MhZ9CX2Z4uNii50FzbgbinlYZM_XC/s400/jordan_in_hospital_with_broken_arm.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316507620408224482" /></a><br />Jordan was completely in shock on the long (30 minutes) drive to the hospital. I had to sit in the backseat with him and keep him awake. His arm was at such a horrific angle that it was all I could do to not throw up. We had to pass over several train tracks along the way and it was quite the inhuman torture for Jordan.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">X-ray of the broken bones<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJoCnxrirQgKv-bZLl6b5g_i2X_gaaH2ga3Kvl_b5dj_c3yCpbRIFNiv1wevOxEr9tZh6-6qW8fH0YYXhmfozGg0_1DRpYUIbT3zNrax5zrGfMJFIe_4QKSdffZnt4oZNn5bkOnYJ74fp/s1600-h/jordan_broken_arm.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJoCnxrirQgKv-bZLl6b5g_i2X_gaaH2ga3Kvl_b5dj_c3yCpbRIFNiv1wevOxEr9tZh6-6qW8fH0YYXhmfozGg0_1DRpYUIbT3zNrax5zrGfMJFIe_4QKSdffZnt4oZNn5bkOnYJ74fp/s400/jordan_broken_arm.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316507619795135026" /></a><br />I could barely bring myself to look at his poor arm and was totally pleased when the E.R. doctors covered it up. In a wonderful feat of modern medicine, we were asked by the doctors whether we wanted Jordan to remember the entire experience or if they should give him medicine that would make him forget. We chose the latter, not wanting to remember the event ourselves. Jordan now hates that we chose that option.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">X-ray after his surgery to set his bones<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oE8lNhxCHZ2b08-qOVKa3rHVkPpPMh6CL74ukieohge5tZZvxIynHso1abSghOUnS1BUiqjRJIKU_JS_5qCZpnqxMMzf4hHXkdtvfzNOiqOn0mLjLWViQIfxfWsxSZDB1X2n-ib_tnaD/s1600-h/jordan_set_bone4.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oE8lNhxCHZ2b08-qOVKa3rHVkPpPMh6CL74ukieohge5tZZvxIynHso1abSghOUnS1BUiqjRJIKU_JS_5qCZpnqxMMzf4hHXkdtvfzNOiqOn0mLjLWViQIfxfWsxSZDB1X2n-ib_tnaD/s400/jordan_set_bone4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316509979763002258" /></a><br />Ahhh - much better! The doctor who performed the surgery did an excellent job! Oddly enough, Jordan has never seen these x-rays. Anytime we offer to show him, he just gets quiet and says no.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Finally home from the hospital. It took almost all summer for this to heal<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hyjKmXmwG6gyudUEY6l4IIMERpUUwJsVnEv0T3TvuSFthSLhQIHhXdpH7NvmqDkt68X_-KVHK3S0ybXqpMhDd-Fb9ce2K7-urKGprcXYpmt3-r965PwOLx6shMBELCUIug1Hyb-MdhNr/s1600-h/Broken+Arm+2006.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hyjKmXmwG6gyudUEY6l4IIMERpUUwJsVnEv0T3TvuSFthSLhQIHhXdpH7NvmqDkt68X_-KVHK3S0ybXqpMhDd-Fb9ce2K7-urKGprcXYpmt3-r965PwOLx6shMBELCUIug1Hyb-MdhNr/s400/Broken+Arm+2006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316507599632116194" /></a><br />Jordan spent the majority of the summer rather grumpy about his broken arm. We bought him a cast cover to put over his arm while swimming. He enjoyed that, but would holler when we had to suck the air out of it, since it got all tight on his arm.</div><br /><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:200%;">2009</span><br />Original cake image (from DROD, his favorite video game)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpKY5e84SRgB0ali6RJNFVoxqUXa4r6W_lwWXG9adIga9p8tyffr8zJKKp-nXDbP9cMXz-P4E-fYiWyjHTlDR9mgB-6g_xJYjSQs_NMV1Vryq0aEfi77MO6VfeREfY_7owGGhgHe3I45I/s1600-h/Sword+in+the+Sunset+-+border.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpKY5e84SRgB0ali6RJNFVoxqUXa4r6W_lwWXG9adIga9p8tyffr8zJKKp-nXDbP9cMXz-P4E-fYiWyjHTlDR9mgB-6g_xJYjSQs_NMV1Vryq0aEfi77MO6VfeREfY_7owGGhgHe3I45I/s400/Sword+in+the+Sunset+-+border.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316510490353017042" /></a><br />I found this picture for his cake, added the border, and had it put onto Jordan's cake.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">How the cake actually turned out - not bad!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxtf9depVT6QkvIIqnoAZXb1uJK0oYtchqbFDOFeyZ4Onms5kE77zNvlu0luZ4wVBUijxZQSUeVeDw0Cc5vWd_eKZl5kEbXVAOrzQ3TZzOctim46hVm279JDy-4RlGG2JDF8kaW-1SL0S/s1600-h/Age+12+Cake.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxtf9depVT6QkvIIqnoAZXb1uJK0oYtchqbFDOFeyZ4Onms5kE77zNvlu0luZ4wVBUijxZQSUeVeDw0Cc5vWd_eKZl5kEbXVAOrzQ3TZzOctim46hVm279JDy-4RlGG2JDF8kaW-1SL0S/s400/Age+12+Cake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316505161936950850" /></a><br />I was slightly bothered by the bubbles in the picture, but overall, it was great and Jordan didn't have any complaints.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Blowing out his candles. Whoops! Dad added some relighting candles!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXQx3v1BGBQCi_mVqEfvWTFJb3eYjj_kngHqAYGp-uNg8XsLZQZEcnh2efRsH77EHDUK_KG-bIAGiF_24Y1otat4Hq1_cJqrVGmDUkKqpHf9TjN-FEniN-tBPXwo2f0DItjVhyphenhyphenz2sMuPH/s1600-h/Age+12+Cake+Candles.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXQx3v1BGBQCi_mVqEfvWTFJb3eYjj_kngHqAYGp-uNg8XsLZQZEcnh2efRsH77EHDUK_KG-bIAGiF_24Y1otat4Hq1_cJqrVGmDUkKqpHf9TjN-FEniN-tBPXwo2f0DItjVhyphenhyphenz2sMuPH/s400/Age+12+Cake+Candles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316505144954707778" /></a><br />I hate the relighting candles, but Jeff stuck two on the cake. Jordan was surprised when they relit, but he quickly got them to go out completely.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Age 12</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGGSe7yn3CNdeBwrlgRxKA7ai7pbfqZQgVcqLTut5Wtnnjy0Sxti96hG5hT3EsKySiihkEWGOjpouhPRw2ySXIVB0DtgyVa7IReIAPSef8YIDxvjU2eIxfqVMeUoGkcpz6ZWtRwES8J2z/s1600-h/Age+12.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGGSe7yn3CNdeBwrlgRxKA7ai7pbfqZQgVcqLTut5Wtnnjy0Sxti96hG5hT3EsKySiihkEWGOjpouhPRw2ySXIVB0DtgyVa7IReIAPSef8YIDxvjU2eIxfqVMeUoGkcpz6ZWtRwES8J2z/s400/Age+12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316505159140541618" /></a><br />Here's my baby. Only 4 more years until he can drive, and only 6 more until he goes to college. Wow!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-36284204017048129642009-03-15T14:19:00.031-06:002009-03-17T12:09:38.481-06:00Impromptu Road Trip<div style="text-align: justify;">On Saturday Jeff and I fixed our broken gate hardware and installed a door closer on the door to our garage. The gate now stays closed without breaking wood off the fence and the garage door closes slowly and will no longer slam. Fantastic!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We were feeling somewhat antsy after this work and thought it could be fun to go pick up some dinner and eat it in the car somewhere with a nice view. After all, what's the fun of having a nice car if you don't spend much time in it?<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So, after thinking for a while about it, we decided to just get in the car and drive in a direction until we felt like stopping. We felt that if we didn't want to drive all the way back home at that time, we would be happy to find a hotel for the night and return home in the morning.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So, we planned on heading north (Jordan wanted to go south, and I wanted to go east, but Jeff got us to agree that there are more stops if we headed north). I packed a small amount of things in case we stayed overnight somewhere (Jeff's contact supplies and our other bathroom needs in the kit we have on hand). I fed Luigi & the fish, and made sure Smoky had enough food and water. I then stuck a few drinks in the car, we grabbed our jackets, and were off!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Not thinking far enough ahead to grab our real camera, I found myself using my cell phone. Also, I failed to even consider taking pictures until the return trip (which proved better, since it was dark much of the "there" drive).<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Here is an attempted shot of the</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">mountains - too far away for a decent picture</span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalCgvkLgPs-d3hu3bEj1BWYmAKdbmVUYodedwewbT_ZxlC61mIWxvRi2PMZVmmo-etkp0PlClSyC0XccP44-R9EjzXXzzZvh8LWaGPhSzL3kMf_Sv2xvqIHQWB7MGpBvZ2BRA_QavYiuS/s1600-h/Even+More+Mountains.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalCgvkLgPs-d3hu3bEj1BWYmAKdbmVUYodedwewbT_ZxlC61mIWxvRi2PMZVmmo-etkp0PlClSyC0XccP44-R9EjzXXzzZvh8LWaGPhSzL3kMf_Sv2xvqIHQWB7MGpBvZ2BRA_QavYiuS/s400/Even+More+Mountains.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313526700110539458" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">After traveling through Denver for an hour (we had to slog through the traffic surrounding two separate accidents - ugh), we were finally north of metro Denver and the roads started clearing out. It was amazing to see that metro Denver has grown north quite a bit since we lived up that way. I was unable to see any difference between Denver and Northglenn/Thornton, and there was only a slight bit of space between Northglenn/Thornton and Erie/Dacono/Frederick/Firestone (now just all mashed together into one city).</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-size:13px;">Here is another try at a</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-size:13px;">mountain shot - still too far away</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhafFrAXamLL3L6xb6fNqY0ESYAeMryfAhyzRmEPFPDO5I2S9_1Aqxr0dTUd5NTTiYOzt-lNYr-RMJLR8ZWTONphKaxD9B46IdVeyg5KtpCwoZDW8gn6Wue9q9ZJnkpd0y9YICG-tFEY7oh/s1600-h/More+Mountains+in+Distance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhafFrAXamLL3L6xb6fNqY0ESYAeMryfAhyzRmEPFPDO5I2S9_1Aqxr0dTUd5NTTiYOzt-lNYr-RMJLR8ZWTONphKaxD9B46IdVeyg5KtpCwoZDW8gn6Wue9q9ZJnkpd0y9YICG-tFEY7oh/s400/More+Mountains+in+Distance.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313526201930807794" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Jordan, being an only child, has never had to deal with other kids on road trips. So, Jeff and I regaled him with various tales of road trip traditions. We talked about the slug bug game, how people have different fun things they do when they drive over railroad tracks, fun games to play with license plates & road signs to help pass the time. He sat in incredulous silence for a few minutes, then scoffed and said that we had weird childhoods, and then went back to his reading. Although we have a DVD player in the car (including headphones so only the movie viewers have to hear it), he refused to bring a movie and just chose two books. My kind of kid.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">I will never get my mountain picture, apparently</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuy4jk187WbT-nFnxUp-4rPtTJsJckJ5QOBh0-rlEtA4ZcBIWmo-_SUgKA_CxydbPCHsjvcP0HTt7e-afaUPYYnanQL61fzwv2hodRYdCiZCWKDWc2Wn8e48OyKBaDKlqDCp4vrZ0AJwy/s1600-h/More+Mountains.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuy4jk187WbT-nFnxUp-4rPtTJsJckJ5QOBh0-rlEtA4ZcBIWmo-_SUgKA_CxydbPCHsjvcP0HTt7e-afaUPYYnanQL61fzwv2hodRYdCiZCWKDWc2Wn8e48OyKBaDKlqDCp4vrZ0AJwy/s400/More+Mountains.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313525403476194722" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We sailed past Fort Collins and Jordan began looking for the Colorado/Wyoming border. He's never been to Wyoming, so he was looking forward to adding it to his list of visited states.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">A picture of the landscape to the east</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_2q3Aq9fr5QhRNbXUIunxWu65R64oTVLYuYzFNo0-a9GiSpOZw4MD8tOQBfE98NIWFqEL6ItOBAYE0J0liJjHR_uliLtnEPeBM4j9EZOW0VspnSWJqPtHwiOmzWFuDTetWuvXlM8Bucv/s1600-h/To+the+Left.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_2q3Aq9fr5QhRNbXUIunxWu65R64oTVLYuYzFNo0-a9GiSpOZw4MD8tOQBfE98NIWFqEL6ItOBAYE0J0liJjHR_uliLtnEPeBM4j9EZOW0VspnSWJqPtHwiOmzWFuDTetWuvXlM8Bucv/s400/To+the+Left.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313525395639653906" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">By this time the sun had set and there was very little traffic on the road. Jordan kept attempting to read his book by using his cell phone light, but I put a stop to that. He has poor enough eyesight as it is without straining to read a book in a dark car!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">I wonder if there are any owls along Owl Canyon</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">Road? I almost had us go check...</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheXTV3AZE8hnr3TFqopFGI_zkNCxCY7jhwsDV1SXr92jeuVbfRlfWOHl9tZIxkvMK3VfY2wbAnoy7qsYwUnbCzDfirEMOcDJ4fx8YSPtunI9qd40nuHHVXcDLjsaYys79nw5cq1SAIPtk/s1600-h/Owl+Canyon+Road.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheXTV3AZE8hnr3TFqopFGI_zkNCxCY7jhwsDV1SXr92jeuVbfRlfWOHl9tZIxkvMK3VfY2wbAnoy7qsYwUnbCzDfirEMOcDJ4fx8YSPtunI9qd40nuHHVXcDLjsaYys79nw5cq1SAIPtk/s400/Owl+Canyon+Road.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313525394078572466" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We hit the state border and he enjoyed reading the many billboards posted there. Most of his questions and comments revolved around the various radio & cell towers in the area, plus quite a few space-related questions had nothing to do with the journey.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">The mountains still haven't gotten any closer</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwMmSOgElCz7nhHRe0fodNT4C3Egimipy_7ptFnCJC7eCSr2hn4Ww8lHb3AhZE1vJ3L71QM9tgrnEyWB6TcFSaDgdD1iQiFXYDyuueWqXFIc772g33sdNaqmf9c6TYqYnIHzTLAem-Wobf/s1600-h/Mountains+in+Distance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwMmSOgElCz7nhHRe0fodNT4C3Egimipy_7ptFnCJC7eCSr2hn4Ww8lHb3AhZE1vJ3L71QM9tgrnEyWB6TcFSaDgdD1iQiFXYDyuueWqXFIc772g33sdNaqmf9c6TYqYnIHzTLAem-Wobf/s400/Mountains+in+Distance.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313525385226614866" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We found Cheyenne a few minutes later and pulled into a parking lot to decide what to eat for dinner. Jordan requested IHOP, so we found one and ate a very filling meal. We then declared that it was too late to comfortably drive home, so we found a nice hotel and got a room.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">While trying to snap another mountain pic, I</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">indavertently got myself in the side mirror - silly (plus, the</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">mountains are proving to be permanently elusive today)</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsE3BpLCPoK-vC95qGBk-JfcJzS0f8a-D22EgM8Yqox8LIvuqvw5L4_s90RSvlr7T3_VLx4KJ_2f-ILElkChLLMzzJs_ZB1YlWt7WU3CNet5Uw8iY9NIPsuCYjlLgWzXQNau21L2UcSn4N/s1600-h/Me,+inadvertently.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsE3BpLCPoK-vC95qGBk-JfcJzS0f8a-D22EgM8Yqox8LIvuqvw5L4_s90RSvlr7T3_VLx4KJ_2f-ILElkChLLMzzJs_ZB1YlWt7WU3CNet5Uw8iY9NIPsuCYjlLgWzXQNau21L2UcSn4N/s400/Me,+inadvertently.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313525381466366946" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The hotel (Microtel - our first time in one) was fairly new (still had balloons, banners, etc.) and our room was very clean. The flat-screen TV was hung directly on the wall, which eliminated the need for the typical TV armoire that is found in most hotels. This made the room seem much larger. Jordan chose his bed and lay down to read. Jeff and I checked out the TV and found the quality very nice. We settled on an educational show from the History channel, about the possibility of extraterrestrial visitors to our planet. Jordan was unable to read very long, as the topic of the show drew him in like a black hole. He absolutely loved it. I have no idea what it was even called! We learned a lot, and he hasn't stopped talking about it.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">Only 68 miles back to Denver</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePWEjUc9OQ8Oyhtw7o4q0et3G1L-9blaXDxzmT6sjwMQ7ehQqDiCoJa6f0NVUGzNNbbHC5V09d12YEqmAwyAdkaN4hoUk7ZKaVM-vvNxMxbQa22ma38mLTxLG3DFE3AWGxlfyJrUJKUFk/s1600-h/68+Miles+to+Denver.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePWEjUc9OQ8Oyhtw7o4q0et3G1L-9blaXDxzmT6sjwMQ7ehQqDiCoJa6f0NVUGzNNbbHC5V09d12YEqmAwyAdkaN4hoUk7ZKaVM-vvNxMxbQa22ma38mLTxLG3DFE3AWGxlfyJrUJKUFk/s400/68+Miles+to+Denver.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313524827431752258" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">In the morning, we watched a couple of shows in bed (always fun to do in a hotel), then checked out. We had missed the continental breakfast (fine by me, but Jeff and Jordan seem to enjoy them) so we went looking for food. We decided we weren't hungry enough to eat at that time, so we just headed toward home with the intent of stopping for breakfast or lunch along the way. We made it to Loveland before our stomachs overpowered us and forced us to stop.<br /></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">This is just a cool outcropping of rocks we found</div><div style="text-align: center;">along the road - it was maybe 500 feet long</div></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-XMvFjb0P6rBf2U8yhzYN2cxZ_I6Mx6QdJ4exOnVWt1O797bBmOWGvO-NqALNFCs_DPcAYNbB8E37BNtxU8ORCaKjZkhqKDckvX673Hkk2KtjHUeVKeuKw10CnnYqAEK0h7pXAnL_aPy-/s1600-h/Cool+Rocks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-XMvFjb0P6rBf2U8yhzYN2cxZ_I6Mx6QdJ4exOnVWt1O797bBmOWGvO-NqALNFCs_DPcAYNbB8E37BNtxU8ORCaKjZkhqKDckvX673Hkk2KtjHUeVKeuKw10CnnYqAEK0h7pXAnL_aPy-/s400/Cool+Rocks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313524828313062530" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Since we had arrived in Wyoming in the dark, on the return trip we had Jordan look out at the landscape and take in whatever Wyoming had to offer him. He was pleased to see the wind turbines spinning out at various wind farms. After we had been back in Colorado for about 15 minutes, he went back to his reading.<br /></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">I don't know why I kept trying...</div></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtq4SmL96qRIGpBGS8YkXGAEfl39O6spjR-QDY-oRDuBbHO71dddULLYNECeXnGkT7Rvcy8dapDMGzgAZVWJxYsyf3TK9WGIxGhsXZ-1ZFY2K-gisXQEH7RyewUuYy9f-vrFqOq4a9_I7/s1600-h/More+Mountains,+Again.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtq4SmL96qRIGpBGS8YkXGAEfl39O6spjR-QDY-oRDuBbHO71dddULLYNECeXnGkT7Rvcy8dapDMGzgAZVWJxYsyf3TK9WGIxGhsXZ-1ZFY2K-gisXQEH7RyewUuYy9f-vrFqOq4a9_I7/s400/More+Mountains,+Again.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313524820872031666" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">When we got to Loveland and stopped to eat, we agreed to try a new restaurant we had never been to: the Bent Fork. It was a new experience, and fairly expensive for lunch. With 2 sodas and a lemonade, a cheese plate appetizer, and 3 lunch meals, we paid $50 - ouch. But the food was good enough, the restaurant wasn't busy at all, and the atmosphere was nice. Since there is a movie theater near the restaurant, we drove by to see what movies are playing (we never know). It was strange to see that there were 8 PG, 3 PG-13, and 6 R movies. I've never seen so many PG movies in a theater in my life! Jordan showed no interest in any of them. Having received the movie information we desired, we continued on our journey home.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">There was a giant buffalo statue on a hill - I'd like to</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;">detour at some point and see what that's all about</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbY9vmWlpEZrlzHD3JQ1s5KrLEZHtXmM8pLnLe_e2aeLKt-L5Az-PNyzL-mFOCRc1dEpvjcx0KxRGcvZyEMV5_c0Fvgg8xDY34Xe11Tj7CsUowGWGJPMwMGPT0mpPmfUyUDiAiu0rTVEhx/s1600-h/Buffalo+Hill.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbY9vmWlpEZrlzHD3JQ1s5KrLEZHtXmM8pLnLe_e2aeLKt-L5Az-PNyzL-mFOCRc1dEpvjcx0KxRGcvZyEMV5_c0Fvgg8xDY34Xe11Tj7CsUowGWGJPMwMGPT0mpPmfUyUDiAiu0rTVEhx/s400/Buffalo+Hill.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313524815769419282" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We have rarely taken I-270 (I guess the road continues into other states, although the named 270 part itself is only in Colorado, making the Interstate label a bit erroneous). Our car's navigation system (Navi) told us that going that direction would be the fastest way to get home, so we ventured off our beaten I-25 path and onto 270. Heading through Commerce City is always interesting, and this is the first time Jordan's ever been interested in it. He loved every minute of the city. He enjoyed looking at various power plants, and even naming which source they came from (natural gas being the most common). He was intrigued by the Colorado UPS hub there and remarked on the number of UPS trucks parked in the lots. I've never taken that much interest in Commerce City, but he seemed to love it. Strange.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We also got to do the new(er) Parker/I-225 flyover loop and enjoyed that. We've done it going in other directions, but never from southbound I-225 to Parker. It was quite the adventure.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We arrived home about 10 minutes later and were able to walk through the garage door that has the newly-installed door closer on it. A thoroughly wonderful way to be welcomed home by one's house!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We got home just after noon, so Jordan still had plenty of time to do whatever he wanted before school on Monday, which is very important to him. He needs his alone time. :)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Overall, we had a spectacular spontaneous trip. Although we didn't go anywhere overly exciting, we were together, having a silly adventure that we'd never done before.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A side note regarding the pictures I took. All of these were taken in the car, going roughly 75mph. You can tell the motion in them, sorry. I'm not normally a mountain-viewer, and I have never understood why people love the mountains so much and strive to find lodging (house, apartment, hotel, camp site, etc) with a decent mountain view. But after seeing nothing but dry, grassy fields for an hour or so, finally catching a glimpse of the dark, snow-covered Rockies just made me need to take a picture. While none of the pictures are very good, at least I now have a better understanding into what people find so wonderful about the mountains. I didn't take any pictures of us, as I didn't want to distract Jeff too much while driving (it was really windy in Northern Colorado and Wyoming!) and Jordan was sitting directly behind me, so I couldn't get a good shot. But, with Jordan's birthday this week, I should get some more pictures of us celebrating his last year before his teens start. :)</div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-76952565682326030262009-03-02T16:34:00.003-07:002009-03-02T16:53:30.940-07:00Denver Museum of Nature and ScienceThis past weekend we went to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. I love going there, despite there being so many people. We should have gone on a weekday, though, when the museum has fewer visitors.<div><br /></div><div>We saw the new "Nature Unleashed" exhibit. It was a very big exhibit that took us longer than we had anticipated to go through, and even at that, we didn't see the whole thing to our content. Despite the crowds, the exhibit was fantastic. They had all sorts of natural disasters. There were explanations on why they occur, as well as statements from people who have experienced the various disasters that Mother Nature throws at us. My favorite section was the volcanos, while Jordan surprised us by loving the earthquakes and hurricanes. I was sure he would be more into the tornados, but I guess he already knows all about them, so it wasn't as fascinating as earthquakes or hurricanes, of which he doesn't have such extensive knowledge. I'm not sure what Jeff liked the most, but he thoroughly enjoyed the entire thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>We also went to the Space Odyssey exhibit, which was as busy and crowded as it typically is. We did get to witness a fun demonstration of liquid nitrogen being frozen. That was great.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went to three Planetarium shows: Black Holes, Cosmic Journey, and Cosmic Collisions. They were fairly good, but the theater was freezing! We then went to the IMAX theater and watched Ring of Fire (all about volcanos, my favorite). That was a good movie, and the theater was much warmer than the Planetarium.</div><div><br /></div><div>We ate lunch in the cafe there and it was fairly good and not too expensive. Can't complain about that.</div><div><br /></div><div>As is typical in any exhibit at any location, all doors lead to the gift shop, and we just hurried through. We've found that most gift shops are just not interesting enough to warrant browsing. Jordan never wants any toys or keepsakes, and he's always eager to leave.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went to Gunther Toody's on the way home, which was an interesting experience. I got the pot roast, but probably should have gotten a burger, for which the restaurant is more known for. My food was good enough, but I like the pot roast at Village Inn much better. Homemade is even better.</div><div><br /></div><div>Overall, it was a fun day. It was good to get home and be away from people, though.</div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-33326453636908794372009-03-02T13:58:00.052-07:002009-03-02T15:38:33.501-07:00I'm Finally 30!<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I turned 30 a little over a week ago. While Jeff believes that 30 is when the warranty runs out and 40 is when parts start falling off, I think 30 is a fantastic age and was more than ready to get here.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff took the day off of work to be with me. So nice. Unfortunately, I had some emergency work that I had to do before I could play. Jeff was kind enough to help me and it made the work go by in just 2 hours.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yWKh9QFW1SYNIK2JXH-W__FSfQTl5dsQyoSauvmdkIuGMA2BIYKyXN3ZhwPqL7kfiFrTAPnzoJkOrP9hs-AgNOrdsCstYNWnQBf_T8COlQhyphenhypheniqZKPt-iqkTDxPnrjPoXI7gTnlAq5Keb/s400/Kokoro.png" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: none; width: 400px; height: 348px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308704880062447890" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Since the working thing took much of the morning and we had planned on an early lunch anyway (to avoid the lunch rush), we just went to lunch </div><div style="text-align: justify;">after my work was done. Kokoro is my favorite restaurant and it was a great treat to be able to go there.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>After lunch, Jeff and I returned home and he "gifted" me with a few hours of WoW play. We did well and even leveled our characters!<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuNuDd9YA1nGRyUMIi56G9GJc6iNnbdh88qO2pfPTrQXFghpuK6HT1EoQseD29YgZe3H4ao6w7xkR7NyNy8GbEhU7QHxY0yG3wHHDJAbLcHfZgy8ZeWBoWqZwJc5dG6FNxwPUG3TUpD1i/s400/WoWScrnShot_021909_155105.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:none;width: 400px; height: 250px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308718962375060770" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When Jordan was finished with his homework for the day, we got Little Caesar's and watched Lie to Me. I love this show. After Jordan was done with dinner, he opted to leave us, as we intended to watch more episodes that we have saved. But before he left, I got to open my presents.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMXPP6b-GxmEaXCReKxDn2pr_4-agO-2U1d9Pegrq9K7ZZMf0dQZtfuTY4jezn0JC_wSl1a4Y-fv2rtSZgExAmuGbtqF1ji4_lGK8ygFS1XUP0VZyrmluMMQFwugcVZjunhYfKXreNYvy/s200/2009-03+Random+Pics+031.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: none; width: 200px; height: 134px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308711862862590434" /><div style="text-align: justify;">Jordan gave me a wonderful gift card for Amazon.com. I bought some great games with my money, so I can still play games on Tuesdays when WoW is being updated. <br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIAO5XykX8Qx7qwD0ZC6cIZW9viZydU9pxzQh1-ZVGLMNEsGlSasBv0ejHzw8Lm8iag3nTbG0vZDQOnPR30uhweC7oMslQmqPszCO4aiUTuO5z5g52DNano0roxnB-O4_71ZsF6M8T3w-O/s200/Jeff+Feb+2009+-+small.png" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: none; width: 200px; height: 166px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308711863287554130" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Aside from taking the day off to play, Jeff gave me another game to play, as well as some clothing I had asked for. He says he still owes me a carpet cleaning that I put on my wish list.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was supposed to get some ice cream from Cold Stone for dessert, but didn't want to be too full after dinner, so I decided to put it off until the weekend. It was quite yummy, and since we went on a night when it was raining (in February?), there was no one else there. I love having stores to myself.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jeff's parents came over a few days later and gave me some nice gifts as well. I got some more Red Vines (it didn't take me long to finish the Red Vines that Jordan gave me for Christmas), some neat gel pens, and a happily accepted gift card for Cold Stone. We used this when we finally got our treat over the weekend.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our turtle, Luigi, gave me a great gift - his tank has been much easier to clean lately. Although last week he managed to snag a fish and didn't eat the whole thing. I had to clean that up and it wasn't pretty.</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcRHeIkGtu31JI3qjxHmAAWW11GtE246n7yZxJBtPuK3ux2i6ejfskZdQrFcZlUrKrG7IKiW3kR_YPqyEWUH6vCNRvPl4Ro_RgUUmHPocCT8FudzG-lK8FSK5J0ly3YNBFm-mVK4RqbykC/s400/Luigi.png" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: none; width: 400px; height: 243px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308709428140418850" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our cat, Smoky, was kind enough to let me take her picture without doing some annoying thing like investigating the camera. I normally end up taking a picture of her side, or worse, nothing but the floor. She sat and looked at the camera for me this time.<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinQOlLfnyfidql_QEKptHSM6EusbISVxvJ7Ag9w3JlRbLbnbRIt-hUAbCZPouj6rMGMSa0o5RpfvRHrLLD6wYlfmQk1aW-Gy1SKwT3LgDtWQ3YGaU8ecpHRTplmeMjg40J99uh8woU3Q9-/s400/2009-03+Random+Pics+023.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308708169303580418" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: none; width: 400px; height: 268px;" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-46744728856299607662009-01-15T12:25:00.004-07:002009-01-15T12:27:22.058-07:00PicturesI've had several requests for more recent pictures of us (the most recent on here is of all of us is an old Halloween picture). I do have a family picture from our trip to Las Vegas last year, but it's still not recent... I'll work on getting some modern images up here. :)<div><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-59558150081696657562009-01-07T11:56:00.002-07:002009-01-07T11:58:16.383-07:00I forgot to mentionI also got my hair cut over the holiday break. It was far too long and getting in the way of everything. I got it cut to just under my shoulders. I love it!<div><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-5447013305153225912009-01-07T11:24:00.020-07:002009-01-07T11:57:48.756-07:00My Gifts<div style="text-align: justify;">As I mentioned I would do in my previous post, here are some of the things we got (mostly I got or have since comandeered due to lack of interest from the giftee...). Some are really liked by the giftee and I just had to show them here. :) I admit that I didn't take any of the pictures as they are all easy to find online and in much better quality than I could ever create - I'm a horrible photographer.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekRJD10iMvrAocVSeLABMUARfF1g3wOau9400H8npY1nhjFTR7vLfrrH999dNtmhAYKV8NmP25yMx8zAzBpiUGMHDu9O9Tq4XMBj6zVRBffvMqim7u5PRGCwAqmzCwJvzA6SPxunamYOu/s1600-h/roomba.png"><br /><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekRJD10iMvrAocVSeLABMUARfF1g3wOau9400H8npY1nhjFTR7vLfrrH999dNtmhAYKV8NmP25yMx8zAzBpiUGMHDu9O9Tq4XMBj6zVRBffvMqim7u5PRGCwAqmzCwJvzA6SPxunamYOu/s400/roomba.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622951435168130" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">My Roomba 560</div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvymu6d0ePA740KgYWHn9OnPp2uQe_2lT09p3VwOx_JSfX_jlzr45VMxrICgQ6-UQdaZHNis_Vt04IRA4WMWSspsv8gg5Q1O5TebKhPnYRHSeCG2nfe8YjFhqgNRGCgU137xUgT66_2RE/s1600-h/scumbuster.png"><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvymu6d0ePA740KgYWHn9OnPp2uQe_2lT09p3VwOx_JSfX_jlzr45VMxrICgQ6-UQdaZHNis_Vt04IRA4WMWSspsv8gg5Q1O5TebKhPnYRHSeCG2nfe8YjFhqgNRGCgU137xUgT66_2RE/s400/scumbuster.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622954320602226" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">ScumBuster</div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzVy0pYVEJTE6kA7Ng0uo5fwFNcFGeDr1XJOThZ1535JVisWKpB7EgNSXzpJyK5Fz6WO5bwoJI30CDDh21K9aoIlXJCYub0H6vV3JoTxbcuEQNtxM0hG1ZZStmHjoxvUvzPzaBB1-IHAU/s1600-h/sennheiser.png"><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzVy0pYVEJTE6kA7Ng0uo5fwFNcFGeDr1XJOThZ1535JVisWKpB7EgNSXzpJyK5Fz6WO5bwoJI30CDDh21K9aoIlXJCYub0H6vV3JoTxbcuEQNtxM0hG1ZZStmHjoxvUvzPzaBB1-IHAU/s400/sennheiser.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622959915404290" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">Sennheiser RS 140 Wireless Balanced Headphones</div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihtlJkpGYcgGQq4bf88a7NDpHRuavcFs9kSY2hL6mkrM_Qi_SZ8Xqopl7S-LyhnkQ5wwCg0JEac1Gp0Bf3cHERaXj2iOsX7-uNnGBN5-X-LoF1ibsPra8YLoCk2vB7eKcHGMXnGbbCqPba/s1600-h/redvines.png"><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihtlJkpGYcgGQq4bf88a7NDpHRuavcFs9kSY2hL6mkrM_Qi_SZ8Xqopl7S-LyhnkQ5wwCg0JEac1Gp0Bf3cHERaXj2iOsX7-uNnGBN5-X-LoF1ibsPra8YLoCk2vB7eKcHGMXnGbbCqPba/s400/redvines.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622954057340866" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">Red Vines</div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyZbTcWKQLzCxqgQ1Chxq4vZIEjfeYnV8vzz3fwPTRxMBxRt5WrGiMSJA9x_iuAZCCuux_Ovx35TS-tXS4IGnQTUBlHCYiqtDwBog28ZSPyyHNLMNSh3VEA79uhE6PYByVjtKKYgf9COy/s1600-h/microcontroller.png"><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 352px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyZbTcWKQLzCxqgQ1Chxq4vZIEjfeYnV8vzz3fwPTRxMBxRt5WrGiMSJA9x_iuAZCCuux_Ovx35TS-tXS4IGnQTUBlHCYiqtDwBog28ZSPyyHNLMNSh3VEA79uhE6PYByVjtKKYgf9COy/s400/microcontroller.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288623148113706530" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">Microcontroller Experimentation Kit</div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRTCMffH6pSwjuzOua3k4WbYL35zid1GbJf05tPi_bCkQcZQxG5ojJEfCwv3pa9uhg1rHZIxeWqoQiiMpKwa8wCK9S3QJ6tHudkJddBX2k63KgHmoxWf0rQ707oEL90GD2hyphenhyphen87uSHYUnGu/s1600-h/precious.png"><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRTCMffH6pSwjuzOua3k4WbYL35zid1GbJf05tPi_bCkQcZQxG5ojJEfCwv3pa9uhg1rHZIxeWqoQiiMpKwa8wCK9S3QJ6tHudkJddBX2k63KgHmoxWf0rQ707oEL90GD2hyphenhyphen87uSHYUnGu/s400/precious.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288623153311760626" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">Jordan's "Precious"</div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUSB5FMLpjf29JFtl76A__CoSET475KXJ4uaTZJ1KUZkaIgNZhuTX35ehNi_sGZiZ__xkr4I_b8BqcMoLAbp8i6PtuFfDLT2LrdjtrMPgEOMkI2qNNN1RkDKYyRbenG6cYgO5_DbJtur-/s1600-h/haloguns.png"><img style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUSB5FMLpjf29JFtl76A__CoSET475KXJ4uaTZJ1KUZkaIgNZhuTX35ehNi_sGZiZ__xkr4I_b8BqcMoLAbp8i6PtuFfDLT2LrdjtrMPgEOMkI2qNNN1RkDKYyRbenG6cYgO5_DbJtur-/s400/haloguns.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288623155464885106" /></a><div style="text-align: center; color: black;">Halo 3 Laser Pursuit Plasma Weapons<br /></div><br /><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-68248496149292543332009-01-05T10:25:00.001-07:002009-01-07T11:51:58.476-07:00This is long because I've been slacking... sorryI got involved in the holiday season and didn't update my blog at all. Here's what's been going on with us:<br /><br />Jordan finished his first quarter in 6th grade. He made the honor roll with a 4.0 GPA. Good going, J!<br /><br />Jeff and Jordan both had roughly two weeks off from work and school. It was a nice break for all of us. We watched a lot of movies, played games, and visited with extended family.<br /><br />For Christmas I got some great gifts. I got a new <a href="http://store.irobot.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2804959&cp=2501652&parentPage=family">Roomba</a> from Jeff. Jordan got me a <a href="http://www.blackanddecker.com/ProductGuide/Product-Details.aspx?ProductID=17914">ScumBuster</a>. I know that most women don't enjoy getting cleaning supplies for holiday gifts (the implication isn't very nice) but I requested the ScumBuster on my wish list. I had been eyeing the new Roomba for a few months but since I still have my old one (I can't find the charger for it), I opted to not ask for a new one. I was content with just buying a charger after the holidays were over. Now I have two and I can have one on the ground floor and one upstairs. The basement is so small and unused that there's no need for another vacuum down there.<div><br /></div><div>Anyone who knows me knows that I hate to clean. I like things to be clean, and I like it done my way, but I hate doing it. Jeff always tells me that if I hate cleaning so much, I should just hire a cleaning company. But I'm embarassed by my messes and would end up cleaning for the cleaning crew. Plus, I like my cleaning supplies - the chemicals, the tools, etc. When I clean, I know I do a good job. When I use my own dirty bathroom, I know that the filth is my own. Letting strangers come into my house only leads to uncertainty of whether they actually cleaned what I wanted them to and whether they availed themselves of my facilities. I don't care to imagine that someone else used my toilet without my permission. So, with such uncertainty, my house remains dirty until I get around to cleaning it myself.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My new Roomba is so wonderful. It has a scheduler on it so I can set it to clean daily and not have to worry. I haven't used the scheduler yet, but I've had a great deal of fun running Roomba almost daily. I would much rather take the vacuum apart than actually use it for its intended purpose, so Roomba and I get along. I love to do the maintenance on him (Roomba is always a male to me). The maintenance involves emptying the collection bin/filter and cleaning the brushes. iRobot has made this Roomba so easy to maintain that it is a pure joy. I haven't had to use a screwdriver yet, which I am used to doing. The new cleaning tool for the brushes is so easy to use that I don't have to spend over an hour trying to get my stubborn hair off the brushes. I love it.</div><div><br /></div><div>My ScumBuster is great, too. I had researched it quite a bit to make sure it did what I want. My bathtub has a permanent grip built into the bottom (basically a raised criss-cross pattern in the fiberglass) and dirt gets stuck down in there and is very tough to get out. The bottom of the tub is always much darker than the sides. I've tried all sorts of chemicals and tools to clean it out, but to no avail. I thought that Comet, being so abrasive and strong, would do something, but it didn't. Scrubbing with all my might never worked. So, I thought this device would, since it has bristles and is powered (very strong spinning motion). So far I have been pleased with the results. The tub isn't perfect yet (I ran out of battery after about 45 minutes), but the spots I focused on are nice and clean. I will have to clean it over several sessions to get it where I want it. The ScumBuster did a marvelous job on our bathroom counter & the sinks. Grime that I thought was permanent damage to the sinks came out. Nice!</div><div><br /></div><div>I also got some great headphones from Jeff (he got himself a pair, too!). They are wireless and the transmitter plugs into the television. Now I can watch TV or movies (or listen to music on the network) and not annoy others. It's great for when Jeff and I want to watch something and Jordan is in his room and doesn't need to hear it. We have a great TV, but there are two odd things about it. 1) Some strange connection thing causes the TV (and TiVo) and console games to be nice and loud, but any DVDs or BluRays played on the same consoles to be really quiet. So, for watching TV or playing games, we have the volume turned up to 25 or 30 (out of 60). For watching movies, we have to turn the volume up to 60. Also, the shape of our living room is such that the sound goes up into the loft (toward the office and Jordan's room) more than it goes to the couch. So, from the upstairs, the movie is absolutely deafening. From the living room, it is comfortably pleasant. So, these headphones are working wonders to direct the sound at the intended recipient. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Another good thing about the headphones is that I can now watch shows that don't have captions. With my hearing loss, it's tough to understand what is said. I need to read it to get the full meaning. And that's the other strange thing about our TV. DVDs that come with subtitles work great. The subtitles are built into the DVD and don't require the TV to do anything special. Captions, on the other hand, use the TV to display them. Our TV doesn't allow captions from DVDs or BluRays to be shown. Subtitles work great but captions don't. We've researched this and found that the TV simply lacks the ability. :( TV shows work fine with captions, but our movies don't. So, for movies that we have that don't have subtitles (or poorly captioned TV shows), we've been avoiding. This is sad, as I like all our movies (well, most) and I want to watch them. It's just a pointless activity for me to sit down to watch a movie and not understand the dialogue. This means that most of the plot is lost on me, as well as various relationships between the characters. I'd rather clean the house than attempt to watch a show that I can't follow.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, with the headphones, I can watch our subtitle-less movies. We can also stream movies from Netflix (free with our current account) and not worry that they have no subtitles. It's wonderful! I watched Heroes and had no problems, even with Mohinder's wonderful accent.</div><div><br /></div><div>For a quick run-through of my other gifts, I got a tub of Red Vines from Jordan, some gift certificates from friends/family, some new books, my ever favorite package of crackers, and some other small things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Technically I got Jeff & Jordan several "together" gifts - a microcontroller, some RFID gadgets, and Halo laser tag guns. However, the microcontroller has gone to Jeff and I (we had a blast programming it to do fun things), and Jeff loves the RFID stuff while Jordan is rather bored with it. I tried. The Halo guns will be fun, but we haven't really used them much yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>As an early present, we gave Jordan a "Lord of the Rings" ring. Just before the holiday break we watched all three movies and he kept saying how much he wanted his own "precious" and so I got him one. It has the elven letters on it and he wears it everywhere he goes. I was surprised that he liked it as much as he did. He's never been one for jewelry, hats, watches, etc, so I was sort of expecting to inherit this ring (I made sure to get a size that fits both of us, just in case). So far, I've only had to tell him that he isn't allowed to take it off at school. I explained that people who suddenly feel the need to protect their belongings (jewelry, cell phones, purses, keys, whatever) end up losing them <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">while</span> in the process of protecting them. If they had simply kept the item in its location, no harm would have come to it. This is easily seen when someone drops their ring down the sink - they take it off to keep it safe. Or when someone decides to move their cell phone from their pocket to a shelf and drop the phone in the toilet. Dumb moves which result in the very consequences they were originally trying to avoid. So, with his new ring, I said that if he doesn't feel he can keep it on his finger (and wants to put it on a different finger or in his pocket), it shouldn't go with him in the first place. I'd hate for him to be on the bus, take his ring off, and have it roll away.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sorry about all the rambling. I'll have to get some pictures of my new gifts to post. Maybe in the next post. Happy New Year!</div><div><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-48734196327454713822008-11-02T14:44:00.002-07:002008-11-05T15:26:45.233-07:00We Have a Loft and a Decent Basement!Well, I should rephrase that. We've had a loft and basement ever since we moved into our house over two years ago, but we were lazy and put a bunch of junk in the loft, like boxes that we didn't feel like unpacking. The basement had our exercise bike, punching bag, and my dad's desk that he gave us. Neither room was being used at all by any of us and I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. This past weekend, we gritted our teeth and got both rooms fixed up.<br /><br />For the loft, we had to unpack or move all the boxes, take the wonderful gold chairs to the basement (they are from Jeff's parents when we moved in), move the desk upstairs (disassembling it in the basement and reassembling it upstairs), move the boxing equipment to the garage for later installation there, and finally take our old TV and stand from the garage to the basement.<br /><br />The boxes were simple enough to go through - we unpacked most of them and moved a few of them into the office for later unpacking. Jeff took the chairs to the living room and he and Jordan then went down to the basement and took apart the desk while I vacuumed the now-empty loft. I then went down and helped them bring up the desk in pieces. Back in the loft, we reassembled the desk and it looks fantastic. I moved all our office supplies into it.<br /><br />In the basement, Jeff and Jordan took apart the boxing equipment (punching bag and speed bag, all on a stand), and we took that out to the garage.<br /><br />Then came the really hard part. We had to move the TV into the house from the garage, down the stairs, and into the basement. Our TV is an old 36-inch Sony Trinitron and weighs more than any TV I've ever encountered. It took Jeff and I quite a while to get it off the stand and onto the padded dolly. We then had to wheel it up three steps from the garage to the house, which took probably 15 minutes. The stairs to the basement took another 30-40 minutes, then we had to do it again with the stand (which doesn't weigh nearly as much, but it's still a ton). I think it took a total of about 2 hours to move both the TV and the stand and get them set up in the basement. But the results are fantastic. We got the PS2 and the Xbox set up. Both devices can play DVDs, so movies are now an option for down there.<br /><br />Since completing the work over the weekend, Jordan has spent every evening (after his homework is done) in the basement playing games. Why he would never play them when they were upstairs, I do not know. He seems to like his solitude down there. He has also taken to practicing his trumpet down there. I don't mind hearing him practice, but he seems more at peace when he knows he isn't bothering others and that we're not eavesdropping. Whenever I am in the kitchen while he's practicing, I can barely make out the songs he is working on.<br /><br />Having two more rooms in use for us is proving to be quite wonderful. While we still have some unpacking to do, the entire house is becoming more open and less crowded. It even seems much bigger now.<br /><br />Here are some pictures of the loft. As you can see, there isn't a box or pile of junk to be seen now. Plus, the view from the living room no longer looks like it's all walled off up there. I'm so happy. I haven't taken any of the basement yet, but will do so sometime soon.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 400px; height: 3px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZT6C3vKTS52W0imGFF3hKCD7DNbd3DvxOgOBZbkuHlY5emscKcCbr9IRCmXhjznMn0_564finI5ppJu2jIuXuQsccCVeCXbLuLo9LTv1-qkiOz-HQ41IQvnaOEMDAL92dfneRgcVCOcH7/s400/hr.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265298648949581362" border="0" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Loft as seen from the office<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60u6mDbehyphenhyphencN-JPX-q9f2yosV8HJHM9q9BgdvoE8ywGbrRN_7GQK3wUNenwuIw_qiBHFzQPJyzUh8JgJgIPIcipxPX14spWzByFvz_9QW75YjTPlxu1GKzu6ahJwuIoNgzPxrdKvZEgPY/s1600-h/clean_loft_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60u6mDbehyphenhyphencN-JPX-q9f2yosV8HJHM9q9BgdvoE8ywGbrRN_7GQK3wUNenwuIw_qiBHFzQPJyzUh8JgJgIPIcipxPX14spWzByFvz_9QW75YjTPlxu1GKzu6ahJwuIoNgzPxrdKvZEgPY/s400/clean_loft_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265300524678769010" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Loft as seen from Jordan's doorway<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4ZbOLzdM-IbT9SBWBRNEJqt9Qs0ISvkVYBva6FGSzti_dDfS1OVoW-4BmO0aZJZQBA9tkco76KfGvfuWrq_JKSvKtLdMax5D4TRbgD9rag6BoXQREClLo-zY0xYJlZwJCfK1Eq4exefC/s1600-h/clean_loft_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4ZbOLzdM-IbT9SBWBRNEJqt9Qs0ISvkVYBva6FGSzti_dDfS1OVoW-4BmO0aZJZQBA9tkco76KfGvfuWrq_JKSvKtLdMax5D4TRbgD9rag6BoXQREClLo-zY0xYJlZwJCfK1Eq4exefC/s400/clean_loft_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265300515789693634" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Loft as seen from the living room <span style="font-size:85%;">(kind of blurry, as I took this with my cell phone and apparently can't stand still...lol)</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCb1m7IZRBm8TBmxA43eGEnadCjzC_-rXM9IO4pnDXAboCsxiFwZrgkf7UiI2l8Jd8jHn6cLaSZVwrgcbHPzfWpFI02gS-JtQlGyg6hoK23axVbNM9TxQxQZwej2fdoP-u9Gh4PtH6G6z/s1600-h/clean_loft_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCb1m7IZRBm8TBmxA43eGEnadCjzC_-rXM9IO4pnDXAboCsxiFwZrgkf7UiI2l8Jd8jHn6cLaSZVwrgcbHPzfWpFI02gS-JtQlGyg6hoK23axVbNM9TxQxQZwej2fdoP-u9Gh4PtH6G6z/s400/clean_loft_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265300835535279410" border="0" /></a>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-18170665309583615752008-11-01T10:16:00.007-06:002008-11-05T15:24:52.087-07:00HalloweenWe barely managed to snag Halloween this year as it raced by. We've been busy working and attending school, we were sick for a while, and household projects have taken plenty of our time.<br /><br />Jordan has never been a big fan of any holiday, including Halloween. He isn't a big candy-eater, as evidenced by my finding last year's candy still stashed in his closet last week. While he enjoys watching others go door-to-door in their costumes, he can't stand dressing up. Perhaps the traditional freezing weather has something to do with his aversion. This was the first year that he decided not to do anything specifically for Halloween. On the night before Halloween, he went to a couple haunted houses with some friends and loved those. But he opted not to dress up and go trick-or-treating. Too bad he didn't want to go this year, since it was almost 70 degrees outside during the evening hours. It was the warmest Halloween on record in Denver since the 1950s. We have yet to receive our first snow of the season.<br /><br />Normally for Halloween we completely decorate the inside and outside of the house with scary things, turn on strobe lights, black lights, scary music, eat a scary dinner (usually alien-green chicken & rice), hand out candy, and go trick-or-treating with Jordan. Because we were busy or simply unaware of the approaching holiday, all we did this year was hand out candy. Since Jordan chose not to go out, we gave him the glorious task of handing out candy to kids who came a-knocking. He didn't like this job any more than we do, so maybe next year he'll be more eager to do something (either go out or have some friends over).<br /><br />During the week leading up to Halloween, we watched most of the scary or Halloween-like movies we have: The Addams Family, Addams Family Values, Hocus Pocus, and finally, Wait Until Dark. I've seen the first three many times over the years and didn't get much more out of them than usual. However, I haven't seen Wait Until Dark since I was a teenager and it was so much more enthralling than I remembered it to be. Jordan was mostly bored throughout it, but stayed on anyway, although he couldn't quite say why he kept watching. The DVD version of the movie has subtitles and I was amazed to hear (read) much more of the dialogue than I had known existed before. While the movie wasn't as edge-of-your-seat captivating as my memory led me to believe, the intricacies involved in the plot are so wonderful that I enjoyed the movie more than I expected to. Jeff and I were both thrilled with the story and how well it was told. Plus, it was one of Audrey Hepburn's first acting roles where she wasn't meant to simply be eye candy and she did a marvelous job convincing the audience that she was blind and terrified. It was a most memorable movie this time around, although I was appalled at how many people smoked in it, as though the idea that breathing stinky, sticky smoke into your lungs could ever <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> be bad for you apparently never occurred to anyone back in the 1960s.<br /><br />Since we had no major happenings aside from a movie on Halloween and therefore didn't have anything important to take pictures of, I will reminisce about the holiday in past years through some pictures. I couldn't find any pictures past age 7. They are either located somewhere else on my storage drive or maybe in actual printed pictures. Either way, I can't find them at this time. Let's see - in 2005 he was a skeleton, in 2006 he was a pirate, and in 2007 he was a death eater from Harry Potter.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 400px; height: 3px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVnu8BcraiOdZ9EObOgTotwxOF2WsgHzAxMk5TmfFXEwN7xoFMD0ZROpU3rz_A54uv5VrcCxiHWI2WfTBNScaqHpE9XsoHM0TDShquG4goigLRUxm_E4wHsElwKFQkgvLPXYHTSLjnGGF/s400/hr.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265302437002101058" border="0" /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; margin-top: -20px;">Halloween 2001 (Age 4)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He wanted to be a ghost for his first time trick-or-treating in the neighborhood and to wear at his preschool Halloween party. I searched all over for a ghost costume but resorted to making this one by hand. We tried it in a simpler form, but it kept slipping off his head, so it got more and more extravagant. The final result has elastic sewn into the head section so it would stay on Jordan's head.</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezOexVE56Xs9w67deqvsiQGcujtrNkAzRlUOpd_tiSPJSkJ5eOG5LD5XNF49toy6nH7jgyyxRMWvZ9d20d8IDRpLIEKITFu4fKT0qjYFXltAusLkGx7GVyVMP2LkNEz-iv7IBJEsYUXbL/s1600-h/2001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezOexVE56Xs9w67deqvsiQGcujtrNkAzRlUOpd_tiSPJSkJ5eOG5LD5XNF49toy6nH7jgyyxRMWvZ9d20d8IDRpLIEKITFu4fKT0qjYFXltAusLkGx7GVyVMP2LkNEz-iv7IBJEsYUXbL/s400/2001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265262525302073394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Stirring the ingredients for pumpkin pies.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1oxxtHdOU1wYEbvFunWvtT132WqSlmfyD3nailSn1kX6uf4OwBElYu8nQArPMhJL32XZl7up27h4yLHUIaH5QXHYizUvo-QtmrUoBlstPqaieyajn-2a78tNI_RuVJPPFBAh0XckQuv4/s1600-h/2001_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1oxxtHdOU1wYEbvFunWvtT132WqSlmfyD3nailSn1kX6uf4OwBElYu8nQArPMhJL32XZl7up27h4yLHUIaH5QXHYizUvo-QtmrUoBlstPqaieyajn-2a78tNI_RuVJPPFBAh0XckQuv4/s400/2001_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265262526679818722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Filling the individual pie crusts with the pumpkin pie mixture.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Ri9JyzW3J8IqOwk6GNo4__wi_OFghuqwHpSuXZgvW-J4FOV_FW6MTPvK90LMfneP3aYuBWEN4VIUpopM5Ki3zMX9sxHCIVcfWcSS_q7YwPyFDcGREFuRwSTo23OgTSjnBZAYmfWz9a7j/s1600-h/2001_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Ri9JyzW3J8IqOwk6GNo4__wi_OFghuqwHpSuXZgvW-J4FOV_FW6MTPvK90LMfneP3aYuBWEN4VIUpopM5Ki3zMX9sxHCIVcfWcSS_q7YwPyFDcGREFuRwSTo23OgTSjnBZAYmfWz9a7j/s400/2001_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265274614458740642" border="0" /></a><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 400px; height: 3px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVnu8BcraiOdZ9EObOgTotwxOF2WsgHzAxMk5TmfFXEwN7xoFMD0ZROpU3rz_A54uv5VrcCxiHWI2WfTBNScaqHpE9XsoHM0TDShquG4goigLRUxm_E4wHsElwKFQkgvLPXYHTSLjnGGF/s400/hr.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265302437002101058" border="0" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Halloween 2002 (Age 5)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't recall if he wanted to go as a dinosaur</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">or if we just gave him a costume to wear that year so he could dress up for school.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYR_2qo1_0osfvtJelvMHIEgDRwxJRj8isYaF25kw5nzh9uqhpoJUbmkC0sgv9IJjBm1vEx79RxYw-8S_mEEbYFluZKs3Jk_auGPWWkG6U9BaChUNP8YnO9HHUUi92pcCXRCG6kk887Vuu/s1600-h/2002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYR_2qo1_0osfvtJelvMHIEgDRwxJRj8isYaF25kw5nzh9uqhpoJUbmkC0sgv9IJjBm1vEx79RxYw-8S_mEEbYFluZKs3Jk_auGPWWkG6U9BaChUNP8YnO9HHUUi92pcCXRCG6kk887Vuu/s400/2002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265262955547514674" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">From the side</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSeMwFekdMcjtCvzLoa8etJqnNzsvHVkfHbNkuH5FmEmqronTLJk9OdVH28b95vQhcRovRqHT_mfXvQ_gtNKBkwFlWDJ8sdJCd4RjqbCvYRObRgMAllifH8_AwBfA8Tjr94-ZZfRiYVUV/s1600-h/2002_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSeMwFekdMcjtCvzLoa8etJqnNzsvHVkfHbNkuH5FmEmqronTLJk9OdVH28b95vQhcRovRqHT_mfXvQ_gtNKBkwFlWDJ8sdJCd4RjqbCvYRObRgMAllifH8_AwBfA8Tjr94-ZZfRiYVUV/s400/2002_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265262954420336642" border="0" /></a><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 400px; height: 3px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVnu8BcraiOdZ9EObOgTotwxOF2WsgHzAxMk5TmfFXEwN7xoFMD0ZROpU3rz_A54uv5VrcCxiHWI2WfTBNScaqHpE9XsoHM0TDShquG4goigLRUxm_E4wHsElwKFQkgvLPXYHTSLjnGGF/s400/hr.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265302437002101058" border="0" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Halloween 2003 (Age 6)<br /><br /></span><span><span style="font-size:85%;">He didn't like the movie much, but wanted to go as Superman anyway.</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaTrzDXZ7wfowWRZty9X2NX4HtxxLSaQ-32kLCaWpjiLsieH4fSNIaWpDcL9tYlGIXXZrGuf_DB5CPHKP-umffum3DuFHjJe0FjdLqQJSBuzSC6G7r5U56xKoY4U2Gv4t6aj7ADlkAEX5/s1600-h/2003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaTrzDXZ7wfowWRZty9X2NX4HtxxLSaQ-32kLCaWpjiLsieH4fSNIaWpDcL9tYlGIXXZrGuf_DB5CPHKP-umffum3DuFHjJe0FjdLqQJSBuzSC6G7r5U56xKoY4U2Gv4t6aj7ADlkAEX5/s400/2003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265263641995452866" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Two of the pumpkins we carved while visiting Jeff's parents.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnh3XVpsg18IP7rGugyrDZ1_EA35COfEtHi02OhRLj7wO88JxmxfZWHyhqpm5QdyivYgXhqIpZ0V1EsTaQLlej73RvB4DDSvHcpk1_YIWOdYKqW9kizPI2I-War75BUhhNJy15EmmAyN74/s1600-h/2003_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 399px; height: 319px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnh3XVpsg18IP7rGugyrDZ1_EA35COfEtHi02OhRLj7wO88JxmxfZWHyhqpm5QdyivYgXhqIpZ0V1EsTaQLlej73RvB4DDSvHcpk1_YIWOdYKqW9kizPI2I-War75BUhhNJy15EmmAyN74/s400/2003_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265263642447696402" border="0" /></a><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 400px; height: 3px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVnu8BcraiOdZ9EObOgTotwxOF2WsgHzAxMk5TmfFXEwN7xoFMD0ZROpU3rz_A54uv5VrcCxiHWI2WfTBNScaqHpE9XsoHM0TDShquG4goigLRUxm_E4wHsElwKFQkgvLPXYHTSLjnGGF/s400/hr.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265302437002101058" border="0" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Halloween 2004 (Age 7)<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Totally enthralled with astronomy, he decided to be an astronaut. Here he is without his helmet on.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnVVmugIHzCuTV2Sz9y4bv5s3x2d_XZwifQaZpXOuODglfdisx81d_iNX29YuOqgD60ENaV5DvhB3U_mMe87iLX1ICmTiYLuMzu33NXi_A6VXsPDJJDSITHUIGTeasah1WqqDrge4eWPS/s1600-h/2004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnVVmugIHzCuTV2Sz9y4bv5s3x2d_XZwifQaZpXOuODglfdisx81d_iNX29YuOqgD60ENaV5DvhB3U_mMe87iLX1ICmTiYLuMzu33NXi_A6VXsPDJJDSITHUIGTeasah1WqqDrge4eWPS/s400/2004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265264471711541426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">And with his helmet on.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wB1eAGTmJqRgMtsfpD4RS9WaJ2XpnsEfXxIUX7o5-azK4MXINNyaNgT7qsLdWFCkbTZI3mQNsToac_7t4IwHWDf4Y0L8S9ruWsJW44CzU9BH54V8HwWsA2SUVPzp4EPA5v7jbsVMHPUU/s1600-h/2004_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 141px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wB1eAGTmJqRgMtsfpD4RS9WaJ2XpnsEfXxIUX7o5-azK4MXINNyaNgT7qsLdWFCkbTZI3mQNsToac_7t4IwHWDf4Y0L8S9ruWsJW44CzU9BH54V8HwWsA2SUVPzp4EPA5v7jbsVMHPUU/s400/2004_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265264138193910162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Jeff's parents came to visit and carve pumpkins</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXzijDMnYcpB0pN07-M8CCf0q00vlg4NRcveoVOEkb_eY4NghEqOcIXvN48QBIRhoHtIQ4xcCOug_SwsxD5oOJHuJrLBD20CC1ovjeL-avCg_XqOWNu8cGPApYgXkmptTI6QXvYuxcHu7J/s1600-h/2004_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXzijDMnYcpB0pN07-M8CCf0q00vlg4NRcveoVOEkb_eY4NghEqOcIXvN48QBIRhoHtIQ4xcCOug_SwsxD5oOJHuJrLBD20CC1ovjeL-avCg_XqOWNu8cGPApYgXkmptTI6QXvYuxcHu7J/s400/2004_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265264136994366178" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">We made tombstones out of styrofoam and engraved them with fun epitaphs.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh37W9zf5ecuE6-yNGG4gX1olUJY5LtJkRm_GDA4BppmlMe5NO0vYsP5c5K6Xl-CcW0-wOsaZCX5kuSoXlaNmW89bI98qGvtkhu-lmGkQnSDuJC5Kq8J___3byeNtMRCuRWB6LNU7kchSxe/s1600-h/2004_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh37W9zf5ecuE6-yNGG4gX1olUJY5LtJkRm_GDA4BppmlMe5NO0vYsP5c5K6Xl-CcW0-wOsaZCX5kuSoXlaNmW89bI98qGvtkhu-lmGkQnSDuJC5Kq8J___3byeNtMRCuRWB6LNU7kchSxe/s400/2004_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265263989716588354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Jeff's tombstone reads: </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Here lies Jeff. There's no place like 127.0.0.1. R.H.I.P.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Jordan's tombstone reads: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:85%;" >Here lies Jordan. He ran out of numbers. R. I. P.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Tara's tombstone reads: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" >Here lies Tara. I put my wife beneath this stone for her repose and for my own.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbGyo-P3Vzj5N-d5M_ayA3RnE1ymwv3IuCRca7jc0dfSQTn4P6V5QdPVrHL-oxDSOH4rO_hjcE8J_C4tC4yYLZo7NZBNLcLdfrYlOvEWJ0h19WTmVSAg-_-EQDl7jAlK0s14KklIMrbfJG/s1600-h/2004_4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbGyo-P3Vzj5N-d5M_ayA3RnE1ymwv3IuCRca7jc0dfSQTn4P6V5QdPVrHL-oxDSOH4rO_hjcE8J_C4tC4yYLZo7NZBNLcLdfrYlOvEWJ0h19WTmVSAg-_-EQDl7jAlK0s14KklIMrbfJG/s400/2004_4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265263983288029522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Our cat, Smoky's tombstone reads: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:85%;" >Here lies Smoky. She had 9 lives but now they're gone. She wished she had another one!</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Our late hamster, Mario's tombstone reads: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" >Here lies Mario. His wheel came off.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Robert & Linda's tombstone reads: </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Here lie Robert & Linda. In perfect health, died in a sudden and unexpected manner while reading tombstones.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />The three of us holding our tombstones (Jeff's in the Terminator mask and Jordan's in the other freaky mask).</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVAH8AJrXpELlg-aJsAZ4UWOJeyhxGEbddgNZTm_A-g8NAWPbYIgJzFEV10Zn1gDzEAToZWpYyt6GA_3BH4GoFJICZ4IYXE2i0Jrhrk7bWXnR45olxZy4JFyXKFzwq0rA9QNrBQmUb0dS/s1600-h/2004_5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVAH8AJrXpELlg-aJsAZ4UWOJeyhxGEbddgNZTm_A-g8NAWPbYIgJzFEV10Zn1gDzEAToZWpYyt6GA_3BH4GoFJICZ4IYXE2i0Jrhrk7bWXnR45olxZy4JFyXKFzwq0rA9QNrBQmUb0dS/s400/2004_5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265263979435529378" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-28467089569408025732008-10-12T11:11:00.002-06:002008-10-15T11:16:46.081-06:00My Color: They Nailed It!I recently took an <a href="http://web.tickle.com/quizzes/show/1108">online quiz</a> that asked some questions and then classified my answers into a color. I was pretty surprised with the results. If this doesn't sum me up perfectly, I don't know what does:<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">You're </span><b style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">brown</b><!-- br--><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">, a credible, stable color that's reminiscent of fine wood, rich leather, and wistful melancholy. Most likely, you're a logical, practical person ruled more by your head than your heart. With your inquisitive mind and insatiable curiosity, you're probably a great problem solver. And you always gather all of the facts before coming to a timely, informed decision. Easily intrigued, you're constantly finding new ways to challenge your mind, whether it's by reading the newspaper, playing a trivia game, or composing a piece of music. Brown is an impartial, neutral color, which means you tend to see the difference between fact and opinion easily and are open to many points of view. Trustworthy and steady, you really are a brown at heart.</span>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-49277954169640254362008-10-01T10:32:00.028-06:002008-10-09T17:45:46.166-06:00Happy Birthday, Dad!Many years ago a great man was born: my dad. I hope he gets in a game of golf (or maybe just thinks about hitting some balls) on this special day. :)<br /><br />Here are some things that I remember doing with my dad throughout the years:<br /><ul><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Dancing in the living room with him (standing on his feet)</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Hearing him sing "<span style="font-style: italic;">Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay</span>" quite often</li><li style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Enjoying his macabre jokes and puns</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Laughing and laughing as he would make up new words to songs (mostly hymns...)</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Running like crazy as he chased me throughout the house</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Saying "Book-a-shoo!" and then throwing my stuffed animals across the room</li><li style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Screaming in fear whenever he tried to teach me to ride my bike (I was sure he would let go too soon)</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Giving him "haircuts" (pretending to cut his hair, not really doing it)</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Squishing into his old orange recliner with him</li><li style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Listening to him tell the story of "My Detour"</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Driving in the mountains and his need to be Al Uncer Jr., speeding around those winding curves, which caused me to upchuck</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Being utterly surprised at his reaction when I tried to dig to China in the backyard</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Wondering how he could eat bread and gravy and nothing else</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Watching him make fabulous roses for cakes (he'd always make extra just for me)</span><br /></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Helping him bake pies so I could eat the pie crust when he wasn't looking</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Having him be with me when I had my appendix removed and how he was constantly playing my Nintendo games during his hospital visits</span><br /></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Listening to him laugh - it fills the house</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Driving to an unknown destination somewhere across the state - just to be together</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Being totally embarrassed when he would dance the <span style="font-style: italic;">Sugar Plum Fairy</span> down the aisle of the grocery store</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Wishing I could wiggle my ears like him</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Comparing my hands with his and asking him when I would get my "grown-up" hands</li><li style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Having him threaten to pull my loose teeth out with pliers since I was too scared to pull them out myself</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Laughing as he would scruff my neck with his whiskers</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Tickling me with "Scapula, scapula, scapula!"</li><li style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Having me walk on his back</li><li><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And many, many, many more memories</span><br /></li></ul>I love you, Dad. Happy birthday!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Here is one of the more memorable songs he made lyrics to:<br />Sung to the first part of "Welcome, Welcome, Sabbath Morning"<br /><br />Welcome, welcome, Saddam Hussein;<br />Won't you sit and have a beer?<br />Welcome, welcome, Saddam Hussein;<br />Here's a missile for your rear!</div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336367424051390224.post-65757104776674003742008-09-24T13:01:00.001-06:002008-09-24T17:57:23.290-06:00What Could Possibly Take That Long?<div style="text-align: justify;">We were watching Mythbusters last night. At the beginning of the show there is a preview of all the myths that are going to be tested. Jeff paused and asked us what we thought the overall outcome would be of the myths presented and we proceeded to discuss the various scientific ramifications that could apply to each test. So, before we had even really begun the show, we spent about 20 minutes talking about what was to come.<br /><br />Jumping back into the show, we began to watch the first test (creating a stun gun that shoots electrified water instead of the typical wires). Roughly every 5 minutes we had to stop and discuss more. Sometimes one of us would pose a question to the others. Other times we might just be indignant about how the Mythbusters were going about their testing.<br /><br />Cut over to the other Mythbusters who were checking to see if a fire extinguisher could smother a fire when placed into a fire (causing the extinguisher to burst, spewing its contents). More discussion on the science of fire and the chemical process of creating a fire. We then continued to watch the show.<br /><br />Back to Adam, Jamie, and their testing of the stun gun. More discussion.<br /><br />On to Kari, Tory, and Grant, finished with the fire extinguishers (I won't give away the results). They were now testing the process of walking barefoot on hot coals. We stopped again to discuss this.<br /><br />We continued trading off watching Adam and Jamie, discussing and complaining, watching Kari, Tori, and Grant, discussing and complaining, and finally the show was over.<br /><br />This one-hour show (only around 42 minutes by skipping all the commercials with TiVo) had become a two-and-a-half hour show. We could have watched a movie for less time than we spent on this one show.<br /><br />Amused by how long this took, we talked about that for a few more minutes. Then Jordan decided to go to bed (now that we had eaten into his entire evening with one show). I proposed to Jeff that we watch one more, thinking that it would be faster. He agreed.<br /><br />We started the new show (testing of whether NASA actually went to the moon) and then proceeded to discuss the scientific theories presented.<br /><br />All in all, our two television shows (one hour each) took almost five hours to watch. We could have been a good portion of the way through the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy in that time!<br /><br />I enjoy watching Mythbusters because they get me thinking. Whether I agree with how they test a myth or not, my mind is actively working to test the myths in another way. I realize that it is an entertaining science show on Discovery and that they do have to cater a bit to the audience, but I am often miffed that they don't show more of a test. A lot of the time it seems to me that they performed one test, and then jumped the scale to an outrageous test, completely avoiding any tests of the middle range (the stun gun myth is a good example of this). I don't know if they really do the more painstaking testing and it just doesn't make the cut for television or if they are not quite the thorough scientists that I believe they should be. All I know for sure is that I'd better clear my schedule better if I want to continue watching the show.<br /></div><div style="width: 490px; position: absolute; visibility: hidden; z-index: 99999; top: 47px; left: 521px; text-align: justify;" id="AnswersBalloon"><div class="AnswersHeader"><div class="AnswersHeaderInner" id="AnswersHandle0" style="cursor: move;" handlefor="AnswersBalloon"><div class="AnswersHeader1"><a style="float: right;" onclick="var ac = document.getElementById('answertipClose'); if (ac) ac.innerHTML='close'; else window.status='close'; return true;"><img id="AnswersCloseImage" style="margin-right: 10px; position: relative; cursor: pointer;" alt="Close" src="http://www.answers.com/main/images/close.gif" align="top" border="0" /></a><a id="AnswertipMore" target="AnswersQueryWindow" onclick="var ac = document.getElementById('answertipClose'); if (ac) ac.innerHTML='close'; else window.status='close';return true;" style="float: right; text-decoration: none; visibility: hidden; padding-right: 10px; margin-top: 9px; cursor: pointer;"><span class="AnswersHeader3"> Read more >> </span></a><a id="AnswertipOptions" onclick="var ac = document.getElementById('answertipClose'); if (ac) ac.innerHTML='options'; else window.status='options';return true;" style="float: right; text-decoration: none; padding-right: 10px; margin-top: 9px; cursor: pointer;"><span class="AnswersHeader3"> Options >> </span></a></div><a style="float: left; cursor: pointer;" href="http://www.answers.com/?initiator=FFANS"><img id="AnswersLogoImage" style="" alt="Visit Answers.com" src="http://www.answers.com/main/images/answers-logo.gif" align="top" border="0" /></a></div><div id="Answers_frame" class="AnswersContentFrame"><table id="Balloontable2" class="donotmoveme" style="width: 480px; float: left; text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;"><tbody><tr><td> <div id="Answertip" style="overflow: hidden; height: 235px; width: 473px;"></div> <div id="answertipClose" style="display: none;"></div><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="AnswersFooter" id="Answers_footer"><div style="width: 471px; height: 22px; float: left;"><iframe id="AnswersAds" allowtransparency="true" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; width: 100%; height: 22px;" src="http://www.answers.com/main/tip2.jsp?s=ramifications&wt=1&nafid=&cobrand=" scrolling="no" frameborder="0"></iframe></div> </div></div></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03456034619688560183noreply@blogger.com0