tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65246468239358169552024-02-07T19:54:11.542-05:00JEM Truly OutrageousMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.comBlogger321125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-12826971883732587052014-05-02T22:34:00.001-04:002014-05-02T22:34:34.978-04:00Why Bikes? Why Habitat? Why Us?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b>I was duped.</b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBNaamFD1AFPxQ8D_B0vrTl9jr1z72gyL2ROnFVyY7GqI8LfzZYn32N-x2Fd1Ei1k5sVlApP0U3QcQtaUD5-pNHBtqk8TgzmRMOC6KmfQ9y7hiEgnlOmTJsQxqlVPmdce0bf-BN1yqiA/s1600/2014-02-19+19.29.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBNaamFD1AFPxQ8D_B0vrTl9jr1z72gyL2ROnFVyY7GqI8LfzZYn32N-x2Fd1Ei1k5sVlApP0U3QcQtaUD5-pNHBtqk8TgzmRMOC6KmfQ9y7hiEgnlOmTJsQxqlVPmdce0bf-BN1yqiA/s1600/2014-02-19+19.29.53.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Clever boys</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Next week is Mother's day. Mother's Day is for moms. It's a day where moms get to sleep in, eat breakfast in bed, long hot soaks in the tub with bubbles and no action figures. Other people make lunch for you. You go to church and they give you a flower. It's Mom's special day to relax.</div>
<div>
I was hoodwinked.</div>
<div>
By my husband and my sweet charming son.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqsHd_wlWMebuK5ddMO5vmfZz5C0ZLzM7opl0Rh_6Xx3vr5UHlVJzmXaH67AqdqU5oneLCDTcX0CMr1N4uh1QRBqKVsZlE5c8isCQACMnf5F_yHCT1SRCUqfvsS9R1nJ3KVDSZc5GiZM/s1600/2013-12-13+16.48.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqsHd_wlWMebuK5ddMO5vmfZz5C0ZLzM7opl0Rh_6Xx3vr5UHlVJzmXaH67AqdqU5oneLCDTcX0CMr1N4uh1QRBqKVsZlE5c8isCQACMnf5F_yHCT1SRCUqfvsS9R1nJ3KVDSZc5GiZM/s1600/2013-12-13+16.48.06.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
"Hey mom," They said.</div>
<div>
"Wanna go on a bike ride?" they said.</div>
<div>
"For Mother's day. Because we love you." They Said.</div>
<div>
Turns out the bike ride is 52 miles. Stinkers!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>I'M JUST KIDDING!! I knew what I was getting into. </b></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mOCF9D4ctObRWU-vPeZg-1g5aA_ix-U86h8BlikJ5qVNVafcOnGkfKRkjQrTpW8Rg3khEpvBgMn5INUsiKepq2t8xdReleqAZSUpgLjLkpf5bCLFyTlMnDhlvYrnq2h9JgPvb8r2c30/s1600/IMG_20130922_071727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mOCF9D4ctObRWU-vPeZg-1g5aA_ix-U86h8BlikJ5qVNVafcOnGkfKRkjQrTpW8Rg3khEpvBgMn5INUsiKepq2t8xdReleqAZSUpgLjLkpf5bCLFyTlMnDhlvYrnq2h9JgPvb8r2c30/s1600/IMG_20130922_071727.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mOCF9D4ctObRWU-vPeZg-1g5aA_ix-U86h8BlikJ5qVNVafcOnGkfKRkjQrTpW8Rg3khEpvBgMn5INUsiKepq2t8xdReleqAZSUpgLjLkpf5bCLFyTlMnDhlvYrnq2h9JgPvb8r2c30/s1600/IMG_20130922_071727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhRUoty0LAooh-b3MKWlVVivm9fulXk6NjJIxNpV0tlJPkUzPb3_YxAu145CJ8moHuD6wDpVcqXtcDaxilLuIWDM9Z6GpU4d35Xxp4hkvse7B1EZyIHVVVZUHbQImjA1td3lm3WCAguI/s1600/IMG_20131109_022643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhRUoty0LAooh-b3MKWlVVivm9fulXk6NjJIxNpV0tlJPkUzPb3_YxAu145CJ8moHuD6wDpVcqXtcDaxilLuIWDM9Z6GpU4d35Xxp4hkvse7B1EZyIHVVVZUHbQImjA1td3lm3WCAguI/s1600/IMG_20131109_022643.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSQ_ufSsD2ZMjnUhVBcNTq8LV_-GFtNvPqbuj6FyeBAZOkPIWW7i1mnIYFg56okE-YBH2in-anM7OwuJwWdbkUMTsDICuNtw3xQvazwpHD1zVz3Pya83OjubJWIK9uOQDMF3JDfD26dTU/s1600/IMG_20130922_071525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSQ_ufSsD2ZMjnUhVBcNTq8LV_-GFtNvPqbuj6FyeBAZOkPIWW7i1mnIYFg56okE-YBH2in-anM7OwuJwWdbkUMTsDICuNtw3xQvazwpHD1zVz3Pya83OjubJWIK9uOQDMF3JDfD26dTU/s1600/IMG_20130922_071525.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLZ1VZX2f8y_QLwncWXBvh7z4ecu3HXtGkVFdf4FPgWauQWx7yuQZ2zrpUXq2oxm4xAeEwGoc10poRplI-ORJKQ1XAFEg0O1Z0eyYomFMiAs3oG7HWGNzOhoqPNCuY3U2AkATh40uPuw/s1600/2012-06-22+19.57.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLZ1VZX2f8y_QLwncWXBvh7z4ecu3HXtGkVFdf4FPgWauQWx7yuQZ2zrpUXq2oxm4xAeEwGoc10poRplI-ORJKQ1XAFEg0O1Z0eyYomFMiAs3oG7HWGNzOhoqPNCuY3U2AkATh40uPuw/s1600/2012-06-22+19.57.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLZ1VZX2f8y_QLwncWXBvh7z4ecu3HXtGkVFdf4FPgWauQWx7yuQZ2zrpUXq2oxm4xAeEwGoc10poRplI-ORJKQ1XAFEg0O1Z0eyYomFMiAs3oG7HWGNzOhoqPNCuY3U2AkATh40uPuw/s1600/2012-06-22+19.57.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLZ1VZX2f8y_QLwncWXBvh7z4ecu3HXtGkVFdf4FPgWauQWx7yuQZ2zrpUXq2oxm4xAeEwGoc10poRplI-ORJKQ1XAFEg0O1Z0eyYomFMiAs3oG7HWGNzOhoqPNCuY3U2AkATh40uPuw/s1600/2012-06-22+19.57.05.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
But it's not just any bike ride. </div>
<div>
It's the <a href="http://www.lafayettehabitat.org/cover-indiana-1">Cover Indiana Bike Ride for Habitat for Humanity</a>.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVoIBszUzQ9zaWCCGPH1mIZaL7C-iV7ghpbmVc32EIxn-3G7OnHkBmySmieBTvc3C9T9FexE0NhkkdxTd7J3Fvf_pTljtkakVHVcPe96M808WPShO_OTtigc9soAjQK_6Kd-Fk05_SFjs/s1600/2014-04-06+16.31.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVoIBszUzQ9zaWCCGPH1mIZaL7C-iV7ghpbmVc32EIxn-3G7OnHkBmySmieBTvc3C9T9FexE0NhkkdxTd7J3Fvf_pTljtkakVHVcPe96M808WPShO_OTtigc9soAjQK_6Kd-Fk05_SFjs/s1600/2014-04-06+16.31.10.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<b>Do you know what Habitat is? Do you know what Habitat does?</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.lafayettehabitat.org/">Habitat for Humanity</a> is an international organization that builds affordable housing, and works with families financially to allow them to live in and own their own home. A safe permanent dwelling. So families can experience the security and blessing of living in a place they can call their own. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkVjQJaGcn7q_AMywvD0lOUmS6CXnpaf5oY0pY0CoXjxNwwx1yRsZ6Rl8td5UO0af98S4C9TTihfFtU7sw0IHMpLNuCubYvAKo3nPXvPBOvei3pxqlAV_ydiqIGAOxxRtBhrv88OvcRc/s1600/2011-04-15+11.56.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkVjQJaGcn7q_AMywvD0lOUmS6CXnpaf5oY0pY0CoXjxNwwx1yRsZ6Rl8td5UO0af98S4C9TTihfFtU7sw0IHMpLNuCubYvAKo3nPXvPBOvei3pxqlAV_ydiqIGAOxxRtBhrv88OvcRc/s1600/2011-04-15+11.56.33.jpg" height="191" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
The safety of living in a well built house that isn't falling down around them. A house that will keep them warm in the winter. A house that will keep them dry in the rain. A house where their children can play, and learn, and grow and dream. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLRPTX-rxq3Sw_GI49ZUB1LnS9RjJ7JffRrgmxGdOqgp8fPnPTki8MRfTn3DiW-uhThOW_dF_v_zFqZ-rKhISS461M2oOvOZUgbgVb7ow-tO-RN16j7YrDYelk_BrDGvZxJoA4aci5ic/s1600/2011-04-18+09.40.17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLRPTX-rxq3Sw_GI49ZUB1LnS9RjJ7JffRrgmxGdOqgp8fPnPTki8MRfTn3DiW-uhThOW_dF_v_zFqZ-rKhISS461M2oOvOZUgbgVb7ow-tO-RN16j7YrDYelk_BrDGvZxJoA4aci5ic/s1600/2011-04-18+09.40.17.jpg" height="191" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have always had a house like that. I'll bet you have too. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2PIDf6u0pjh5kWhrWqJWWVpUsftOdvSAZiMKYFgaecSU5DXJwK9oQWCKww_YNvBY752M9n6rhikHcZLvyqC_PfzufqRACE0Cu3Prrs-q0DNFaeQTgyJqsb2ksiB4UvK-0BbkYp241-k/s1600/2013-06-16+19.10.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2PIDf6u0pjh5kWhrWqJWWVpUsftOdvSAZiMKYFgaecSU5DXJwK9oQWCKww_YNvBY752M9n6rhikHcZLvyqC_PfzufqRACE0Cu3Prrs-q0DNFaeQTgyJqsb2ksiB4UvK-0BbkYp241-k/s1600/2013-06-16+19.10.36.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Childhood home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Try to imagine for a moment how your life would be different if didn't know these things as a child or even as an adult. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Why a bike ride?</b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CwEGCHneOAvAfGnGaCDNFk0S9miUIu1rfcg1s1BeWHFLlEsoCZSYYQVma1wnLRSej92gHJ41MgPht9Bdhc-dabEab7ctSfW-p6P6K4Yv5OH5JrcFp285x9qPmwrt__qRvwi8fc-p2D8/s1600/IMG_20130506_102052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CwEGCHneOAvAfGnGaCDNFk0S9miUIu1rfcg1s1BeWHFLlEsoCZSYYQVma1wnLRSej92gHJ41MgPht9Bdhc-dabEab7ctSfW-p6P6K4Yv5OH5JrcFp285x9qPmwrt__qRvwi8fc-p2D8/s1600/IMG_20130506_102052.jpg" height="320" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jonathan's artwork 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Well, in all honesty, it's just an activity that some people involved in Habitat enjoy. It's a way to get the word out. It's a way for people who are passionate about bike riding to take what they love and use it to raise money and awareness for Habitat. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qrQjuQT2ag8EAVy1h_OD2URtmXA_4IDh6ST0dwzYe7bTBbANYVkQeD3wZoiVIot5Iwb-7j9uQ4H9skzSGsOduZeX30-THzMAaf7vrB4H6QY3Upt7syf28omJK7RfLMxzHExgtKSJodI/s1600/2013-04-19+15.04.32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qrQjuQT2ag8EAVy1h_OD2URtmXA_4IDh6ST0dwzYe7bTBbANYVkQeD3wZoiVIot5Iwb-7j9uQ4H9skzSGsOduZeX30-THzMAaf7vrB4H6QY3Upt7syf28omJK7RfLMxzHExgtKSJodI/s1600/2013-04-19+15.04.32.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The house Jonathan built to take to school to raise money, 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Why are WE riding?</b></div>
<div>
Great question. Because we're dumb.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIPmiPmgv9TwZY0qkCFffwgL_MKZAVEQ3NGU53TXNnaI1FziFuUWpvv5FxmqUYpJCbx4c1fV7SFg0bcbAIgYlIzl1-vOxjKU3bYanjEC9NrR2hUItVWfKzuRT3cIgGiFSIKCnAJHyuc8/s1600/IMG_20130829_012855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIPmiPmgv9TwZY0qkCFffwgL_MKZAVEQ3NGU53TXNnaI1FziFuUWpvv5FxmqUYpJCbx4c1fV7SFg0bcbAIgYlIzl1-vOxjKU3bYanjEC9NrR2hUItVWfKzuRT3cIgGiFSIKCnAJHyuc8/s1600/IMG_20130829_012855.jpg" height="320" width="237" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I kid! I kid! Everette several years ago, was asked to serve on the Habitat Board of Directors. He served for several years but continued to be involved in a more technical capacity. As Everette was finishing his time on the Board, he stuck a bug in my father's ear about a position opening up. My Dad now works for Habitat, doing... uhh... I'm not sure exactly what his title is, he does a little bit of everything. With a big focus on managing the equipment and building materials. And stuff. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
Then a few years ago.. Everette and I were going through a phase in our marraige, where we really didn't like each other. And really didn't like to do stuff together, or be around each other. </div>
<div>
Hey! I'm just keeping it real here, folks. </div>
<div>
This is not really a great way to be married. Enter, bikes. In an effort intentionally spend more time together, we started riding bikes. Slowly.<br />It's really a great balance for our tortoise and hare personalities. Everette strapped our toddler into the bike trailer (i.e. Wind sock), and he slowed down enough for me, the tortoise to keep up with him. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBR7hhnmxZGQjChA0TomQ0rpuy6s96r0tUFVuN1ISTvwUYt2-BQqcJft6-L-z3nVB-l3Nt6qxodCjy9rw5ZPHpIkOLp-eqM5d0ZnbYLNLD1ZzfQlFW4YwWIIbtdvcBArzKlovu33V1tQ/s1600/2013-01-06+12.41.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBR7hhnmxZGQjChA0TomQ0rpuy6s96r0tUFVuN1ISTvwUYt2-BQqcJft6-L-z3nVB-l3Nt6qxodCjy9rw5ZPHpIkOLp-eqM5d0ZnbYLNLD1ZzfQlFW4YwWIIbtdvcBArzKlovu33V1tQ/s1600/2013-01-06+12.41.58.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wind sock</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
So we began riding. And Riding. And we remembered that we loved each other. And we realized when you are exhausted from riding a million miles, who's turn to take out the trash, doesn't seem that critical. </div>
<div>
Last year, Everette decided he was going to combine his love for his son and for biking and his heart for Habitat and do the Cover Indiana Ride with Jonathan. Just the first day of the week long tour.</div>
<div>
Jonathan is six now and he no longer fits in the "wind sock" much to Everette's relief.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbQ5gok1V8Vd6IuaGlbDHMWtH-pFKytxdPZjLWbrvE6W96HgH_ntOibJbyRXksHzdE6S5xwxYXPV9D_wl9-Ai892FIH44m671H4P6rS_I8FJEHgCQDQAUqvls_vIp7NVSiWxoPeocHGg/s1600/IMG_20130506_063610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbQ5gok1V8Vd6IuaGlbDHMWtH-pFKytxdPZjLWbrvE6W96HgH_ntOibJbyRXksHzdE6S5xwxYXPV9D_wl9-Ai892FIH44m671H4P6rS_I8FJEHgCQDQAUqvls_vIp7NVSiWxoPeocHGg/s1600/IMG_20130506_063610.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jonathan and Everette riding in the Cover Indiana </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But he's not quite ready for a 52 mile solo trek. So we bought a <a href="http://rideweehoo.com/">WeeHoo!</a> The WeeHoo attaches to the back of Everette's bike and they ride together. Jonathan can take breaks, but they are a team. Team Mills. They rode 52 miles from Lafayette to Crawfordsville, Indiana. And I drove the SAG wagon. </div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcFEW0ZWMs5Ny1g8bKNW_gKHbRMOr8t9vq69WSgfSkWOCgomLHw_OdDWUvCr6sAc3nBC2Z68Sy4NxztpXjKXspJV38vyuYfwLSfKFytm7UMKSn_Rr2xEqioYROQWndpAEbY0CCb63Hlk/s1600/2013-05-05+10.18.22+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcFEW0ZWMs5Ny1g8bKNW_gKHbRMOr8t9vq69WSgfSkWOCgomLHw_OdDWUvCr6sAc3nBC2Z68Sy4NxztpXjKXspJV38vyuYfwLSfKFytm7UMKSn_Rr2xEqioYROQWndpAEbY0CCb63Hlk/s1600/2013-05-05+10.18.22+-+Copy.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, in the van, with the junk.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYSWq2osnrliq7xylzXY3BAYLTPci1mnDAo-e3dMNE86RZV0ZeKoxeVYHgG44kFOxe-V-fPbLMHpyk-FxLeWAibNpGB2Y30J-d4yAkSfQFItgmy0cc497pWwkaVAjYpdEKNs20sqLQdCc/s1600/2013-05-05+10.50.37-2+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYSWq2osnrliq7xylzXY3BAYLTPci1mnDAo-e3dMNE86RZV0ZeKoxeVYHgG44kFOxe-V-fPbLMHpyk-FxLeWAibNpGB2Y30J-d4yAkSfQFItgmy0cc497pWwkaVAjYpdEKNs20sqLQdCc/s1600/2013-05-05+10.50.37-2+-+Copy.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
But their team wasn't complete. They missed me. Aww..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89Ev4llg7s_DQUb7ezGY32vpg9PS3mGcw5anoFBT5SNOv41hE7h9FQJZOvUsD4VILt0aAbtEENfbbmJTJ-md6EEVPusJjJF3MejxSGwe5bDOOND6-p6den2vxUtDX-xKLHahYxbuGb6Y/s1600/IMG_20131108_045048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89Ev4llg7s_DQUb7ezGY32vpg9PS3mGcw5anoFBT5SNOv41hE7h9FQJZOvUsD4VILt0aAbtEENfbbmJTJ-md6EEVPusJjJF3MejxSGwe5bDOOND6-p6den2vxUtDX-xKLHahYxbuGb6Y/s1600/IMG_20131108_045048.jpg" height="288" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So Everette asked me to join them. And I said yes. Because I love him. And I love Jonathan. And I love my dad. And I like bike riding. And I think what Habitat is doing for our community is awesome. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now that you have heard my awesome story, I know you want to get involved too.<a href="http://elmills.net/coverindiana-2014/"> <b>Here's how you can help. </b></a></div>
<div>
You can donate money. You don't have to give up your mother's day breakfast in bed. But if you donate money, then I won't give up mine in vain. </div>
<div>
Our goal is raise $3000. What? Yep. $3000 for a bathroom. A Habitat bathroom costs $3000. And we want some other mother to sit is a hot bubble bath<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJggfBzNR2S4BKa7evqpTCsFSIKVpbJ0LKqqZTpHyoyvDcpWBPLM4QW7NnWEK8HEJ0_uZis6o6-39QGjpqCdYg-7ZGwGSDnoyNk1ebjE69Hr5Y85099wk3Lnnj1CzNn_eAiDFOdcdrDM/s1600/CIMG1692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJggfBzNR2S4BKa7evqpTCsFSIKVpbJ0LKqqZTpHyoyvDcpWBPLM4QW7NnWEK8HEJ0_uZis6o6-39QGjpqCdYg-7ZGwGSDnoyNk1ebjE69Hr5Y85099wk3Lnnj1CzNn_eAiDFOdcdrDM/s1600/CIMG1692.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The interlopers in my bathtub (that's my niece back there).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the words of my delightful son, help us "raise money for people who don't have houses."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNfhPmxVqPIA9CTeYGLdjzIIPPkbXuXZnInwS4PyaTXziGSqpnXLRT9sttWxt8No7S_5tlaSp_TcqTgimV5OnpDAHdTM4NQtA7SsyF1o87Kybn2bbpGG8wKY09mnIFTTv_x8wbQq8mMs/s1600/IMG_20130506_064302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNfhPmxVqPIA9CTeYGLdjzIIPPkbXuXZnInwS4PyaTXziGSqpnXLRT9sttWxt8No7S_5tlaSp_TcqTgimV5OnpDAHdTM4NQtA7SsyF1o87Kybn2bbpGG8wKY09mnIFTTv_x8wbQq8mMs/s1600/IMG_20130506_064302.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://sna.etapestry.com/fundraiser/HabitatforHumanityLafayette_1/CoverIndiana2014/individual.do?participationRef=1615.0.329698329">Donate Here!</a></div>
</span></h2>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-83688214506169939122013-04-24T13:52:00.002-04:002013-04-24T13:52:26.059-04:00The Year of the DogAnyone who has ever known me for any amount of time, knows that I am not a dog lover.<br />
Not really at all. But still I find myself with a large obnoxious dog. Why? Because I am married, and being married requires a lot of sacrifice. Just ask Everette. :) The story of how I ended up with a dog is a long story for another time. But the fact remains I have a dog.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUX0Lqmp3lvwzNEHvFh1-GjnpMjICZvTmIVDHQ91TLmJs2Ga7k6e6BgrVL5vc7Q4q6Bm5JhqfH6meGT-Cxe3y00nTBMiDlKOGTSOlLc0XjNNaGOQeqP0gn8TFYFR_5fA5g93e5BoZhPds/s1600/2013-04-24+13.16.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUX0Lqmp3lvwzNEHvFh1-GjnpMjICZvTmIVDHQ91TLmJs2Ga7k6e6BgrVL5vc7Q4q6Bm5JhqfH6meGT-Cxe3y00nTBMiDlKOGTSOlLc0XjNNaGOQeqP0gn8TFYFR_5fA5g93e5BoZhPds/s400/2013-04-24+13.16.31.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
As far as dogs go, we have been pretty fortunate. He doesn't get into the trash (only rarely when it over full). He never destroyed a diaper. He doesn't jump up. He doesn't get on counters. He is incredibly tolerant of children and he is rather protective of Jonathan. </div>
That being said. I HAVE HAD IT UP TO HEAR WITH THAT DOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
Remember a week ago when I posted these beautiful pictures<br />
Monday:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtvkgKmIXAqZoVNlp28npSPTq4IVPt3OnWaU2R0HevmRD96LWtgVpvvTS2cin4LR86npAxVh2YmR1oLv1IaAd_PQvGjTRqbCZ7nwEC_dB69j1mbijFgG6NugwejMYo-NBmzPeUcg8TZ1A/s1600/2013-04-15+14.55.21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtvkgKmIXAqZoVNlp28npSPTq4IVPt3OnWaU2R0HevmRD96LWtgVpvvTS2cin4LR86npAxVh2YmR1oLv1IaAd_PQvGjTRqbCZ7nwEC_dB69j1mbijFgG6NugwejMYo-NBmzPeUcg8TZ1A/s320/2013-04-15+14.55.21.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpagtdPKL5Tbh0aXmeSR28Ud5Z62uZE_Xm8WpzOgbEl_PhjX2puT5jftbeIFIOaXQcZJEYHOwVhwvRFiqQCgfE6u6RyqUgmIWBrlyR_DfjHwxdVhnXjtLWHNnjfHXO-rORQ_BNGP6tDJY/s1600/2013-04-15+17.43.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpagtdPKL5Tbh0aXmeSR28Ud5Z62uZE_Xm8WpzOgbEl_PhjX2puT5jftbeIFIOaXQcZJEYHOwVhwvRFiqQCgfE6u6RyqUgmIWBrlyR_DfjHwxdVhnXjtLWHNnjfHXO-rORQ_BNGP6tDJY/s320/2013-04-15+17.43.07.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAfu3hWLZuFG218kHYySaiaS4fPmO6j9CAN59Vnt0k6muND9Q1R5pSv9tT7zxsGPRKFNRPULhJNUCAU4cctbXLlVDj5NzSyTcwDVQOzt-zH6yjyp1TyXmRU6Dt8WeLl32NZ7_HBQBJiw/s1600/2013-04-15+17.44.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAfu3hWLZuFG218kHYySaiaS4fPmO6j9CAN59Vnt0k6muND9Q1R5pSv9tT7zxsGPRKFNRPULhJNUCAU4cctbXLlVDj5NzSyTcwDVQOzt-zH6yjyp1TyXmRU6Dt8WeLl32NZ7_HBQBJiw/s320/2013-04-15+17.44.12.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkFV-GJFb4MMvcaNuRkmPVKcW3XPGYHKiWIlJwh5fgfbmf6FIGurVdm1_XlH9vejLPWcca6W5lmEPWURNpawJZy8kZ24GekrYuHRSWY0Zz8NV7LOKuyvjgeI28gaHNdR2kIM0DtitK2GE/s1600/2013-04-15+14.55.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkFV-GJFb4MMvcaNuRkmPVKcW3XPGYHKiWIlJwh5fgfbmf6FIGurVdm1_XlH9vejLPWcca6W5lmEPWURNpawJZy8kZ24GekrYuHRSWY0Zz8NV7LOKuyvjgeI28gaHNdR2kIM0DtitK2GE/s320/2013-04-15+14.55.07.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
The fruit of my labor of an afternoon spent in the beautiful sunshine on my knees digging in the earth.<br />
Something I generally enjoy.... as long as I have gloves on, and my hands don't get dirty. (I know I am a paradox)<br />
<br />
By Friday, they pretty much looked like this.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIzYJnZ_PB9PUauoQNk2kVOv0bfB4BUP0b8ctGWo8qVdoONK3stW1e8OqjZxGV-eLb7AgKVZ45fmUjQaZyvIop992gonBoA4y5koObZG-Ii76ZGIQaZINHtqzwMLoQh1vsUO73KgKo58/s1600/2013-04-19+15.08.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIzYJnZ_PB9PUauoQNk2kVOv0bfB4BUP0b8ctGWo8qVdoONK3stW1e8OqjZxGV-eLb7AgKVZ45fmUjQaZyvIop992gonBoA4y5koObZG-Ii76ZGIQaZINHtqzwMLoQh1vsUO73KgKo58/s400/2013-04-19+15.08.25.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Decimated. Barren.<br />
<br />
By my ridiculous dog.<br />
<br />
At the time I was unsure how much was bunny damage and how much was dog damage.<br />
I am now fairly certain it was dog destruction.<br />
<br />
Saturday, I zipped over to Bennett's to buy my second twenty dollar flat of broccoli and cabbage. Since a monsoon had just been through, I wanted to wait a few days for the soil to drain. So I placed my flat full of beautiful green broccoli plants just inside the garage. Certain it was too close to the house for the the bunnies to come munching. Two hours later, I walked outside to absolute carnage. Max, the dog, had pulled three packs of three broccoli plants out of the flat. Yanked the tiny tender plants out of the sleeve, roots and all, chomped off the beautiful green leaves and left the decimation splayed across the driveway. I was too angry to do anything more than rescue the rest of my plants. It was one of those moments, where self-control was hanging on by a thin thread, and dangling violently in the breeze. I believe my body was trembling with anger. I did what any good woman would do. Left it on the driveway for Everette to deal with.<br />
<br />
Monday, I set out to plant what remained from my veggie flat. I replanted EVERYTHING I had planted only a week before. Broccoli, and Cabbage. Max had eaten everything in the bed except for the two Chinese Cabbage plants (No one wants to admit that their dog is racial profiling, but he totally barks when the Chinese Delivery guy comes by). Again the day was beautiful, and my heart was full as I bent over the dirt, thinking of a beloved friend of mine and Master Gardener, and the conversation we've shared over the years about vegetables and gardens. A friend, who was, that very day, leaving this world for the next.<br />
<br />
I sat back once again, satisfied with the fruits of my labor. I meticulously sprayed Deer Away over every little chute. Main ingredient: Putrefied Egg Solids. Yep it smells as delightful as it sounds. It is good for keeping bunnies and deer and most dogs away from your vegetation.<br />
<br />
<br />
Tuesday I went outside between rain showers. To discover this...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaXGcXnYL4WXAuCLhN_QAEPVBgEKfoQaqeReQkT8ril3eADf0T1TSB5rkcT9rpiLLoZjcwvcl8kz1bhX-glqN0e8VneYNLMFxiNn_yd2dWNPfyKnr3wTa_14b9YhlQrefm_UARcFsXYw/s1600/2013-04-24+12.49.45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaXGcXnYL4WXAuCLhN_QAEPVBgEKfoQaqeReQkT8ril3eADf0T1TSB5rkcT9rpiLLoZjcwvcl8kz1bhX-glqN0e8VneYNLMFxiNn_yd2dWNPfyKnr3wTa_14b9YhlQrefm_UARcFsXYw/s400/2013-04-24+12.49.45.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Total Broccoli Devastation.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VkMGIiDuhEW6djeNqpbLQs8M14dR3A9TzilW-LDkhGhtsG0t9UQIYYYPc9zorM6HWH4cQ92u-gxFVQbg4Q4eM1orZQWeBNBZJ2uKVY43vg0lPHSp_NWES6RQIBsRAdIbjDaYkUHuGh0/s1600/2013-04-24+12.50.02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VkMGIiDuhEW6djeNqpbLQs8M14dR3A9TzilW-LDkhGhtsG0t9UQIYYYPc9zorM6HWH4cQ92u-gxFVQbg4Q4eM1orZQWeBNBZJ2uKVY43vg0lPHSp_NWES6RQIBsRAdIbjDaYkUHuGh0/s400/2013-04-24+12.50.02.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
THAT BLASTED Dog had made it a sport. He left his trophies. He uprooted my broccoli plants, chomped off the leaves and tossed them about for play.<br />
<br />
Then there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. It wasn't pretty people.<br />
<br />
So now we bought a fence, and another twenty dollars of broccoli. That's right folks. $60 in broccoli plants. I told Everette I could buy a lot of broccoli at the grocery store. But now it's personal.<br />
<br />
I'll keep you updated as the saga continues. If you see an ad on craigslist for a vegetarian dog, don't be surprised. Even Everette has his limits when it comes to his vegetable patch.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-47032866381286728772013-04-23T22:51:00.001-04:002013-04-23T22:51:06.025-04:00Wedding FinaleOk. ok. Enough is enough. This will be my last post about the wedding weekend. That is of course until I change my mind and write something else because this is my blog and I can do whatever I want. :)<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned that the wedding was beautiful. Just beautiful. Picture perfect. It was smallish and intimate. and just so much gosh darn fun.<br />
<br />
Once again, the pictures are all from Aaron Ide. Except this one! I took this one, of Karie and Aaron Ide (uhh with his camera). Thanks again Aaron!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJs-zEPAsoNU83xthWc5syvveyRaUztTqAFl7CnKoT9LgOb7oir3P0JMHaBFgu1dHdVWYZYlEBT5vBr8U_rQ6wR21cdX4iYLIMR2wh9Cr-tRCIr23Y21e8CbOz5m4YUIrEV_4MCGIOLQ/s1600/420943_10200449348150302_2060716684_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJs-zEPAsoNU83xthWc5syvveyRaUztTqAFl7CnKoT9LgOb7oir3P0JMHaBFgu1dHdVWYZYlEBT5vBr8U_rQ6wR21cdX4iYLIMR2wh9Cr-tRCIr23Y21e8CbOz5m4YUIrEV_4MCGIOLQ/s320/420943_10200449348150302_2060716684_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The reception was across the parking lot at The Stables, you know, where they keep the horses...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here's the view from the balcony where cocktails were served....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLj9Qq_Ga1K2t8ThpkVXQqbk4YZwdgg_HgyEI15clcbbEsMCKe-axvoDtFharqp0AXUSk-Ufjs0YMvO_mvoARbH2HlfYvX4A8YOqFdG1bJ-bZcjj4wjDFYkD6QqyVdGSOJjvbon1tUHg/s1600/64452_10200449345510236_61269346_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLj9Qq_Ga1K2t8ThpkVXQqbk4YZwdgg_HgyEI15clcbbEsMCKe-axvoDtFharqp0AXUSk-Ufjs0YMvO_mvoARbH2HlfYvX4A8YOqFdG1bJ-bZcjj4wjDFYkD6QqyVdGSOJjvbon1tUHg/s400/64452_10200449345510236_61269346_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPsTkE0l4860-D5l4niPa7Sy_2J_qQ7V3rd-XfHL9PgzqmAwCFSPJL1-oTiWTGkDKjUmp0MPKc97Gng_dTI4MBxfUG-5RQGz3eEqN9ss4mT4erDtExeDRZnqxNIUEhb53tQIjVdGQ4rQ/s1600/604093_10200449324869720_1907739944_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPsTkE0l4860-D5l4niPa7Sy_2J_qQ7V3rd-XfHL9PgzqmAwCFSPJL1-oTiWTGkDKjUmp0MPKc97Gng_dTI4MBxfUG-5RQGz3eEqN9ss4mT4erDtExeDRZnqxNIUEhb53tQIjVdGQ4rQ/s320/604093_10200449324869720_1907739944_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhn1ClLGYt4ekFVJBF5YxltEjToPlWtRjGvdpxXDk1XIIKjOKh1zHuknoJk7cm9YgAAh1-EMeGAqJRs34IHowEWDksWhqpjmO0yYvcsKLOIWJ9GJJhedZKkLUUBxRk_rfn5Zc0M92GPFA/s1600/529299_10200449344350207_208975531_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhn1ClLGYt4ekFVJBF5YxltEjToPlWtRjGvdpxXDk1XIIKjOKh1zHuknoJk7cm9YgAAh1-EMeGAqJRs34IHowEWDksWhqpjmO0yYvcsKLOIWJ9GJJhedZKkLUUBxRk_rfn5Zc0M92GPFA/s320/529299_10200449344350207_208975531_n.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>Beautiful flowers. Beautiful flowers.</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo2rmAxwzaSuiQO3qBW1RgqJcYa3-s2EyTvzjfEEHvNC8tsZtamcdPQ3SxeK589DIykTsA3Rs3MjeqnB1pLsnNap0p5SCWySuav-SFmfvfL-fIo2A_j5ANclQkILpHlBLxv2S6-Nptl8/s1600/529298_10200449332389908_1957204224_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo2rmAxwzaSuiQO3qBW1RgqJcYa3-s2EyTvzjfEEHvNC8tsZtamcdPQ3SxeK589DIykTsA3Rs3MjeqnB1pLsnNap0p5SCWySuav-SFmfvfL-fIo2A_j5ANclQkILpHlBLxv2S6-Nptl8/s320/529298_10200449332389908_1957204224_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Table cards. Hey! I made those. And by made those, I mean printed out the template Meghan sent me and glued it onto the purple paper I chose.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawNPKskDUMQ96NjAVsqoPf__jYcboX_EQUVERUmYi_GitVYgjFfYOYfrZmLFXZhH8hm3U62MW3-q5iw2VmIHyeVFPPenWfGKo95vVsLv4p8Vr5arBlGYoql3huh7ZTAKCUY336t5LUq0/s320/540133_10200449344110201_1503982933_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="213" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawNPKskDUMQ96NjAVsqoPf__jYcboX_EQUVERUmYi_GitVYgjFfYOYfrZmLFXZhH8hm3U62MW3-q5iw2VmIHyeVFPPenWfGKo95vVsLv4p8Vr5arBlGYoql3huh7ZTAKCUY336t5LUq0/s1600/540133_10200449344110201_1503982933_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawNPKskDUMQ96NjAVsqoPf__jYcboX_EQUVERUmYi_GitVYgjFfYOYfrZmLFXZhH8hm3U62MW3-q5iw2VmIHyeVFPPenWfGKo95vVsLv4p8Vr5arBlGYoql3huh7ZTAKCUY336t5LUq0/s1600/540133_10200449344110201_1503982933_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawNPKskDUMQ96NjAVsqoPf__jYcboX_EQUVERUmYi_GitVYgjFfYOYfrZmLFXZhH8hm3U62MW3-q5iw2VmIHyeVFPPenWfGKo95vVsLv4p8Vr5arBlGYoql3huh7ZTAKCUY336t5LUq0/s1600/540133_10200449344110201_1503982933_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Head table. Family style. It was so fun to sit across from people and have a conversation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJKeQEfgn69wOjDjscrLDTcdKFyO98LHgx7HstiGd0IRM4qj6gpg13h9RKhL823HbwTSQYqNy1Nj7G3_2lPx21PTiwLyiC5ZlvcTKMNJp9pC701JeRr-Dqjsbz5thyphenhyphena0ATuCoXmKI9x8/s1600/733901_10200449326389758_293970433_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJKeQEfgn69wOjDjscrLDTcdKFyO98LHgx7HstiGd0IRM4qj6gpg13h9RKhL823HbwTSQYqNy1Nj7G3_2lPx21PTiwLyiC5ZlvcTKMNJp9pC701JeRr-Dqjsbz5thyphenhyphena0ATuCoXmKI9x8/s320/733901_10200449326389758_293970433_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYe1nIHFF5DcraXC1OQNasglLRDUxM0bGRWhG5l5qnhnydOJ1Fm5m5xoCGwjbcZqcLr-_ZqfEQsyx_iHbV5p96co3UN7ucAm6BR5-PE-gzzSfQRzSjTkRYS_EQ7S1orxcsNDFF0F5IOU/s1600/48127_10200449344990223_741013438_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYe1nIHFF5DcraXC1OQNasglLRDUxM0bGRWhG5l5qnhnydOJ1Fm5m5xoCGwjbcZqcLr-_ZqfEQsyx_iHbV5p96co3UN7ucAm6BR5-PE-gzzSfQRzSjTkRYS_EQ7S1orxcsNDFF0F5IOU/s320/48127_10200449344990223_741013438_n.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
Lovely.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxcVYiXG2rYBG5BoT5_CwASFb-MQny8_BZ2lfbnUFLp02EusU6OhxwBQ7N-I7n-cpLEUYtZxtr3qklSPBq8kPFG-MOfgn3h3V1uRmln17gbPznOo3015y8F3h6AJtICh9YbcU69d_W9CU/s1600/562045_10200449343390183_1050883561_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxcVYiXG2rYBG5BoT5_CwASFb-MQny8_BZ2lfbnUFLp02EusU6OhxwBQ7N-I7n-cpLEUYtZxtr3qklSPBq8kPFG-MOfgn3h3V1uRmln17gbPznOo3015y8F3h6AJtICh9YbcU69d_W9CU/s320/562045_10200449343390183_1050883561_n.jpg" width="320" /> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxcVYiXG2rYBG5BoT5_CwASFb-MQny8_BZ2lfbnUFLp02EusU6OhxwBQ7N-I7n-cpLEUYtZxtr3qklSPBq8kPFG-MOfgn3h3V1uRmln17gbPznOo3015y8F3h6AJtICh9YbcU69d_W9CU/s1600/562045_10200449343390183_1050883561_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxJYYvI9yL2bkVTWDhyphenhyphenDgwRYPyHzaysx9qzC4TU5L7xk-_e3vRD-5DzOPPb75oskUg23Vbrv2Gyx4dndBcen-_bhAGI2kJNpxZPamtkvIU40_VUNYiJAkkgP2YQO2LvygAVvBz_9Kw7Y/s1600/562646_10200449342390158_1974158846_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxJYYvI9yL2bkVTWDhyphenhyphenDgwRYPyHzaysx9qzC4TU5L7xk-_e3vRD-5DzOPPb75oskUg23Vbrv2Gyx4dndBcen-_bhAGI2kJNpxZPamtkvIU40_VUNYiJAkkgP2YQO2LvygAVvBz_9Kw7Y/s320/562646_10200449342390158_1974158846_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Cake! Wedding Cake! Yummy Delicious cake! Wedding cake was three different kinds, I don't even know what kind I was served, but it was delightful. The grooms cake was Oreo served with glasses of milk. I won't lie, I had a piece of each. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVlU00GmC0CEUsAV6Te5ESGacubUxje23BhaCdPHm35Pc3sYOYNrhuwjQhZTJS8E1H709Aia7Sc7l9tcdqthEPXJIrkoITYSF2jtzQtZr_XzYG_ZBAO9k4zrSVwpx4hlYuiIIfew0lCk/s1600/553053_10200449351990398_2080006763_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVlU00GmC0CEUsAV6Te5ESGacubUxje23BhaCdPHm35Pc3sYOYNrhuwjQhZTJS8E1H709Aia7Sc7l9tcdqthEPXJIrkoITYSF2jtzQtZr_XzYG_ZBAO9k4zrSVwpx4hlYuiIIfew0lCk/s320/553053_10200449351990398_2080006763_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Bride and groom's first dance. Now things were just getting started!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpx2mG9-qJhrwwqRNCYbbCvmG9VD1f_RQsWQODF__jjz3vUT8hCsRX13gMxmm29X3Qh7e2gbdstvzS_e2RUbR5DKK8cE2zlYeZDnebUGSgnRYqa_vq-ORB-IIiZLa3YgMxhbC0sGW1dk/s1600/17292_10200449347790293_307294811_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpx2mG9-qJhrwwqRNCYbbCvmG9VD1f_RQsWQODF__jjz3vUT8hCsRX13gMxmm29X3Qh7e2gbdstvzS_e2RUbR5DKK8cE2zlYeZDnebUGSgnRYqa_vq-ORB-IIiZLa3YgMxhbC0sGW1dk/s320/17292_10200449347790293_307294811_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1u79uSjqH7Tbj30hLrJrtslUvPSfNuHgDZ4zTJm52hUqt72aOuNN-yujkQ3ZWRAVs5DtQDZKS3GW-v5uKLyUJ8SZ8yYqYKtiGOJJN8Y-Azq2Ie57eg25dZkI2BsASzVwHhFKXltRFH8/s1600/383162_10200449347830294_873973245_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1u79uSjqH7Tbj30hLrJrtslUvPSfNuHgDZ4zTJm52hUqt72aOuNN-yujkQ3ZWRAVs5DtQDZKS3GW-v5uKLyUJ8SZ8yYqYKtiGOJJN8Y-Azq2Ie57eg25dZkI2BsASzVwHhFKXltRFH8/s320/383162_10200449347830294_873973245_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Did I mention that I had a great time?!</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimes_w4JaA55LjP3ijHGn87PKCuKwWJj8OYSBbzCcTgAMcYg0rQnP9g-YUh0Myrx13WtDpS1Ea43OaAOkFMaV21b3lWmvX6-XQccytL7kAzeCcQHxTaizzX7gYWR15aMamLnNfvpOITXY/s1600/559027_10200449356670515_41205449_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimes_w4JaA55LjP3ijHGn87PKCuKwWJj8OYSBbzCcTgAMcYg0rQnP9g-YUh0Myrx13WtDpS1Ea43OaAOkFMaV21b3lWmvX6-XQccytL7kAzeCcQHxTaizzX7gYWR15aMamLnNfvpOITXY/s320/559027_10200449356670515_41205449_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Guess who else had a great time! Grant and Kelsey, you are up next! I can't wait.<br />
<br />
Proud Mammas!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtx7S0wWEXlSCyJE4_XdwEBrJSf9rucjav7JIGWuP9XAKDnUVzPAfDgDEzdcKTXJORj2c6Et8cp3TJlWcxuDmV-BJNFWIeZXrbhV_egfdjwOFziGgqZ4kiO0ux6UfvxoI8Vc3IqmRSdU/s1600/64116_10200449354390458_1394305994_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtx7S0wWEXlSCyJE4_XdwEBrJSf9rucjav7JIGWuP9XAKDnUVzPAfDgDEzdcKTXJORj2c6Et8cp3TJlWcxuDmV-BJNFWIeZXrbhV_egfdjwOFziGgqZ4kiO0ux6UfvxoI8Vc3IqmRSdU/s320/64116_10200449354390458_1394305994_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUzmGFEKRwCYHOw4m9DPdYEIraDIh_j1m-ke-Ds-Mj7sok6KezL9FBm_B04Swc4nrOhVVAIgBlc3P6CBw2tgKo11nYsg3khxJkX0jr6pa8nCQzzjbvjUuKdapDhEyTWWuypd3foD_0bE/s1600/625463_10200449356990523_1223762797_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUzmGFEKRwCYHOw4m9DPdYEIraDIh_j1m-ke-Ds-Mj7sok6KezL9FBm_B04Swc4nrOhVVAIgBlc3P6CBw2tgKo11nYsg3khxJkX0jr6pa8nCQzzjbvjUuKdapDhEyTWWuypd3foD_0bE/s320/625463_10200449356990523_1223762797_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Everette, always ready to help out!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF9tTSTq7RBF1pp5QnhSPPv3rdHJ5YAB8QpIFeFlHXxLWTN8XiUseicuKM0EmtMI6jCkkwShID7258XMT6rMX51LBlQ4eLw6QqKFqPAytz3gkuoAOQeFr0FFApATuLRzpadoGk5oWuDUU/s1600/625548_10200449359830594_1934191823_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF9tTSTq7RBF1pp5QnhSPPv3rdHJ5YAB8QpIFeFlHXxLWTN8XiUseicuKM0EmtMI6jCkkwShID7258XMT6rMX51LBlQ4eLw6QqKFqPAytz3gkuoAOQeFr0FFApATuLRzpadoGk5oWuDUU/s400/625548_10200449359830594_1934191823_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5T-nrZs9A8WxaF6BADPBJwboriM5S7k-TNJvpPBJb9aKy8KJeuz18P-S6isoqKRyifXyEt-I2hnwX3cUgsQLfFQbKnrsGuFqveNx1CY-GVY8FKQaE_amerEgvhyphenhyphend4vYb2TpQvFZPvM8M/s1600/14089_10200449361230629_1592152441_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5T-nrZs9A8WxaF6BADPBJwboriM5S7k-TNJvpPBJb9aKy8KJeuz18P-S6isoqKRyifXyEt-I2hnwX3cUgsQLfFQbKnrsGuFqveNx1CY-GVY8FKQaE_amerEgvhyphenhyphend4vYb2TpQvFZPvM8M/s400/14089_10200449361230629_1592152441_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Party is over! Good night everyone! It's been grand! </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I told you this wedding was amazing!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-46676453524037646082013-04-22T23:57:00.001-04:002013-04-22T23:57:31.070-04:00Wedding Part 12So I'm back.<br />
<br />
Sorry about being gone. I started reading a book. And when I read a book, I pretty much don't want to do anything else. Like blogging. Or laundry. Or dishes. Or vacuuming. You can ask Everette, he will happily agree.<br />
Plus I trimmed my fingernails and I trimmed them a little too close. So it hurt my fingers to type. I know. I have real problems. You all feel real bad for me. I do too.<br />
Anyway back to the task at hand. You are still waiting to hear about the awesome wedding.<br />
All <strike>3</strike> of you. Make that 2, my mother was already there.<br />
<br />
The rehearsal was much like any other rehearsal. Except that it was short, which was awesome.<br />
Then we all headed out to Murder Rock for the rehearsal dinner. That's right I said Murder Rock. I'm not sure what you are thinking, but you are wrong. The name had something to do with events during the Civil War. But I didn't really read up on it. I would say that if you were looking to murder someone, this place wouldn't be bad. It was on top of the most giant hill in the middle of nowhere. You drove on a road that made you want to put your hands up in the air and scream, because as you crested a hill, you weren't sure if there was a road over the other side. It is similar to the Beast at Kings Island. Only, it was longer than 70 seconds. But then when you arrived, you were literally sitting on top of the world (or at least Branson Missouri). The view was breathtaking, especially at sunset. I have no pictures. Because who has time for pictures when you are living.<br />
<br />
The drive home, in the dark, was, exhilaratingly terrifying. I know, because I drove it. I used my GPS and it was saying things like, "go until the road drops out beneath you, free fall 900 feet and then turn left." It was super fun. Let's do it again.<br />
Let's skip all of the hair styling, and boring stuff and get to the wedding.<br />
<br />
The day was sunny and warm. The view was spectacular. The Bride was stunning. And I got home and realized I had two pictures. Lame.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
So I will shamelessly steal what others made available on Facebook. In fact <a href="https://www.facebook.com/aaron.ide.353?fref=ts">Aaron Ide</a>, husband of one of the bridesmaids took all of these amazing pictures. I did not take any. These are all his. Thanks Aaron.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVosloP-LKyYbKPt3ZwIayANIxPw4REQCY_bSfmL5dLSEwQjhgDNQZM2qisLqxXDiEE4OXWFpxq8IQ6-dedtWOoimB4dSIy1sPuMJdKURXFjSAC93gesVOwt9onRFKBbgGGUw2oTLniPg/s1600/554961_10200449348870320_934132630_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVosloP-LKyYbKPt3ZwIayANIxPw4REQCY_bSfmL5dLSEwQjhgDNQZM2qisLqxXDiEE4OXWFpxq8IQ6-dedtWOoimB4dSIy1sPuMJdKURXFjSAC93gesVOwt9onRFKBbgGGUw2oTLniPg/s320/554961_10200449348870320_934132630_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the Chapel at Integrity Hills. Behind it is breathtaking view of the Ozarks and Table Rock Lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowhEsZjv7Yn4otYW9hm7-PrWz-aSzkYChf1LENCxv7q0SoGvaxa3Id0YAohp1IIXyj1p4MAcwarLp2SQtxfD_9uD1x5niHsxxl-zmIUVVzj77XDxE1k7GI7XK1soUxJS34y7qJhcvSYg/s1600/544265_10200449336070000_640581408_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowhEsZjv7Yn4otYW9hm7-PrWz-aSzkYChf1LENCxv7q0SoGvaxa3Id0YAohp1IIXyj1p4MAcwarLp2SQtxfD_9uD1x5niHsxxl-zmIUVVzj77XDxE1k7GI7XK1soUxJS34y7qJhcvSYg/s320/544265_10200449336070000_640581408_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">The Groomsmen: Everette (sorry ladies, he's taken), Grant (soon-to-be-groom himself), and Dr. Jack (that's right ladies, he's a doctor, and he is single, and I can also say, he's a pretty good dancer)<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJCVXVSY7Q4Y4bN2RzNCrRC2wquAIjR1GvMrhhUWAxEKmqrR-LlFLKYDvuSIOAcc40bJqSUZjToDNIhPLtU9PLrXkeEFuiv7rsjQJLgZMBIFaXCDFivSVr591vyRvPKo0vze3Twil_fo/s1600/62799_10200449336870020_68997546_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJCVXVSY7Q4Y4bN2RzNCrRC2wquAIjR1GvMrhhUWAxEKmqrR-LlFLKYDvuSIOAcc40bJqSUZjToDNIhPLtU9PLrXkeEFuiv7rsjQJLgZMBIFaXCDFivSVr591vyRvPKo0vze3Twil_fo/s320/62799_10200449336870020_68997546_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Father of the groom, has nothing to do except be anxious.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1zVXYY6otgkcItSvv8QCXszsWVlZ-BvLdgEnJbcRAHZgkn8JevWa_fVZ5V752C8Uod2R5FjnAOIdC4dIsuxRMDSSy3xHT4uVyJPxylWIFhPzJq90wfQdtGxJ9JN0Z3bEeYzH78AegAc/s1600/67566_10200449336430009_253985918_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1zVXYY6otgkcItSvv8QCXszsWVlZ-BvLdgEnJbcRAHZgkn8JevWa_fVZ5V752C8Uod2R5FjnAOIdC4dIsuxRMDSSy3xHT4uVyJPxylWIFhPzJq90wfQdtGxJ9JN0Z3bEeYzH78AegAc/s320/67566_10200449336430009_253985918_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That is one proud Mamma! Mary A Mills and her son, the groom, Brad.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKugLBW-S74THx30prmHty1gitWidwbrLbT0TUTlrMgWZ4Lq4G0QjwUgqb9Doqq2uQsuY0J6vQg8v312NtN9lOoDoAc0rGRwgXKbblOYyHXg0kFW1C8_BOwSnwypyDU4UqUJfnAQNgnM/s1600/17427_10200449337150027_1010417673_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKugLBW-S74THx30prmHty1gitWidwbrLbT0TUTlrMgWZ4Lq4G0QjwUgqb9Doqq2uQsuY0J6vQg8v312NtN9lOoDoAc0rGRwgXKbblOYyHXg0kFW1C8_BOwSnwypyDU4UqUJfnAQNgnM/s320/17427_10200449337150027_1010417673_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Meghan's mother Margaret, and her two brothers, Robert and Jared (Left to Right)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPVav228QZwuoUzWvrTr6RFp7N4MjtjsYG60Tv0piWHl1kMoIGvvtAViaHGX4Ektuae-lEM_041QNQ_N3SzBFWSQXYxW0GyrFh42Si1uAQgEnkB916GOG7G8nWQJNR1Q5HIdhuuuueRc/s1600/521969_10200449337190028_487935140_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPVav228QZwuoUzWvrTr6RFp7N4MjtjsYG60Tv0piWHl1kMoIGvvtAViaHGX4Ektuae-lEM_041QNQ_N3SzBFWSQXYxW0GyrFh42Si1uAQgEnkB916GOG7G8nWQJNR1Q5HIdhuuuueRc/s320/521969_10200449337190028_487935140_n.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at my handsome escort!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So the big question of the weekend, was Jonathan going to go down the aisle alone. We spent a great deal of time practicing, But in the end he went down with me. I was a little disappointed, but in the end, I don't think it mattered.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFee0AMD0f7rWRusd7H8dB196lM2lwwae5dLFky3qd4fXfB8EC6b-83IwPsBjDrJeC2ITdANHYoib78IU7m1sHLpLnnqJ24s-4ES57v0D1YnAwn6foh5xpvHa85utIwXe5-A6EUTc948g/s1600/625507_10200449338750067_1339047115_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFee0AMD0f7rWRusd7H8dB196lM2lwwae5dLFky3qd4fXfB8EC6b-83IwPsBjDrJeC2ITdANHYoib78IU7m1sHLpLnnqJ24s-4ES57v0D1YnAwn6foh5xpvHa85utIwXe5-A6EUTc948g/s320/625507_10200449338750067_1339047115_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here comes the Bride! Beautiful. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TQAaxQoKDmNK77Z00S5etbPBNlTJR3WpBaAKxTBlvdxDUVlTQPAGAQhk900ngmFf57sWunevJ_XpUf1pHN3v8G839zHBi1Qd0w9MnIag4b30zWzRkiNOh9wZBIYyiev6zW7ncevjm80/s1600/553989_10200449340350107_1602397013_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TQAaxQoKDmNK77Z00S5etbPBNlTJR3WpBaAKxTBlvdxDUVlTQPAGAQhk900ngmFf57sWunevJ_XpUf1pHN3v8G839zHBi1Qd0w9MnIag4b30zWzRkiNOh9wZBIYyiev6zW7ncevjm80/s320/553989_10200449340350107_1602397013_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The View from the pew. Not bad.<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The wedding was straight out of a storybook, or better yet, a movie...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
except..... duh. duh. duh....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UX7GUlFknTDOUtfgnH_930wl7gVT2Hfpd_f0PiqNUYXr0thVOoMHl0QhIVo19xS7qa1oaArixyTFvuL3Rfarh-x2xJbd7SmHGxqPSBiOihTNCsa6B8Cmlq30AJdvcNT7j4aYlD1ws8Q/s1600/karie+and+meg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UX7GUlFknTDOUtfgnH_930wl7gVT2Hfpd_f0PiqNUYXr0thVOoMHl0QhIVo19xS7qa1oaArixyTFvuL3Rfarh-x2xJbd7SmHGxqPSBiOihTNCsa6B8Cmlq30AJdvcNT7j4aYlD1ws8Q/s320/karie+and+meg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is me... and Karie. Her husband took all of these beautiful pictures. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Karie stood next to me at the front of the chapel.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Five minutes into this dreamlike wedding, a GIANT and I do mean Giant wasp floated down and landed on her golden hair. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My instinct was to recoil. But I was not going to be the one to ruin this wedding. So I held firm with my smile in place, but my eyes trained on the killer wasp seconds away from injecting it's deadly stinger into Karie's poor head. I was sending telepathic messages to the wasp to move. I was trying to decide if I should warn Karie to spare her life, at the risk of ruining this picture perfect event or if I should just scoot closer to her so I could catch her should she slump over from the deadly sting. Thus keeping her erect until the ceremony was over so the bride was none the wiser, and nothing would ruin her glorious day. Having spent the weekend with Karie, I was confident she would prefer I do the latter. Suddenly the wasp took flight. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It was now my mission to destroy the deadly wasp, and save the entire wedding from imminent peril. I was limited to commanding the wasp with only my eyes, as my body was frozen in the perfect bridesmaid pose. I was shooting death rays with my eyes, but the wasp was deftly outmaneuvering me.<br />I then began to concentrate trying to will the wasp closer to me, Risking my own death. My plan was command the wasp to land on the ground close to me, so that I could free my foot from bridesmaid stone statue pose and squish it with my lethal bridesmaid shoes. Trust me, they really were lethal. But the wasp was smart. And at the last second it swooped up out of my reach.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I nearly gasped at the sight of that smug little bug defiantly landing it's giant ugly wasp body right on the bride herself. But I never broke character. I was a bridesmaid after all.<br />While trying to decide the best course of action, to my relief the wasp buzzed off the dress. Suddenly the wasp tripped himself in the air, and dive bombed to the ground. Just as the preacher was stepping toward the happy couple. I held my breath, concentrating all my super powers on maneuvering the preachers foot directly onto the struggling wasp. But alas, I was unsuccessful. Thwarted again. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But I guess the pesky wasp saw the writing on the wall, and he high-tailed it to the back of the chapel where he was no longer a threat to anyone, or to me at least. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And that, it the story of how I, the super bridesmaid saved the day, and the bride and groom and pretty much the entire wedding was totally unaware.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Tomorrow we'll close this puppy out with the reception.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-25868744997771538642013-04-18T21:17:00.000-04:002013-04-18T21:17:41.176-04:00Wedding Part 3Once everyone had safely arrived, the festivities could begin. We began the weekend with dinner at Meghan's parents house, in Branson. It's beautiful. With a beautiful view of the <strike>river</strike> <strike>lake</strike> body of water. It's also for sale if anyone is interested. :) During dinner Everette showed the families the slideshow he put together. It is kind of amazing. You can watch it below... but get comfy. It's like 20 minutes long.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TapRRCrWo9I" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
Friday Morning. I went with the girls to get their nailz did.<br />
Everette, mom, dad, my father-in-law, and Jonathan went to check this out....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgcvVsP8Z67qAg37qf89k6QBDUZr53LRC-ajRyXVSOYVYK-azu0BdKrrNTYd5ajvp0873YgMyWpEaXUaPtiPleRV_AQTf1nBbVU5VrjGb6k8nFooSW3x5oIXmPqsRT8uHlSDFMja4xIWA/s1600/20130412_090507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgcvVsP8Z67qAg37qf89k6QBDUZr53LRC-ajRyXVSOYVYK-azu0BdKrrNTYd5ajvp0873YgMyWpEaXUaPtiPleRV_AQTf1nBbVU5VrjGb6k8nFooSW3x5oIXmPqsRT8uHlSDFMja4xIWA/s320/20130412_090507.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
They, of course, had a splendid time. Riding in the observation car, through the Ozarks.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U486gkcM90wsN8kusqcYrFWn3Esrv6F4O6NbaNZgc7rt3DkW9HqEjYC71sMvAYoni1iuNWkIHM2ROOsPmn_E7dk4SdIf-Is8VjgJW1AcuIDf6gGfh1UXMcYY69axDwmRKjals_PVSLk/s1600/20130412_093012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U486gkcM90wsN8kusqcYrFWn3Esrv6F4O6NbaNZgc7rt3DkW9HqEjYC71sMvAYoni1iuNWkIHM2ROOsPmn_E7dk4SdIf-Is8VjgJW1AcuIDf6gGfh1UXMcYY69axDwmRKjals_PVSLk/s320/20130412_093012.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Then we all met at a delicious Mexican Restaurant for lunch.<br />
Nap time!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-T-9nL5PEBYSTYXVz52CotTB84nPKeuFSr34bxtWGjOWNGgvwENYjpRya84D7iEV7gGDsFqPvni51dmu7-mA2NHdPpd7bIq2DcHXzODfB_gUHy_I6LjNS_hvM4ha8rDxpdpvDv7Iit4/s1600/20130412_102717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-T-9nL5PEBYSTYXVz52CotTB84nPKeuFSr34bxtWGjOWNGgvwENYjpRya84D7iEV7gGDsFqPvni51dmu7-mA2NHdPpd7bIq2DcHXzODfB_gUHy_I6LjNS_hvM4ha8rDxpdpvDv7Iit4/s320/20130412_102717.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Shower..<br />
Rehearsal...<br />
We're getting closer!<br />
<br />Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-33664702178116030442013-04-17T19:20:00.000-04:002013-04-17T19:20:21.175-04:00Train. Planes, and AutomobilesI wrote this post in the car on my way to Branson....<br />
It pretty much describes Wednesday to Thursday... Take heart, things started looking up from here.....<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Currently I am sitting in the passengers side of my Dodge Grand Caravan listening to a Freakonomics podcast. </i><br />
<i>Why? Because my husband is a nerd. And because when I travel with him, I get my nerd on, and it is awesome. I feel so smart. Everette has four hours of Freakonomics and four hours of Marketplace Money. That is how we roll in the Millsss van. We are headed to Branson, MO for a wedding. Everette's brother's wedding to be exact. </i><br />
<i>Let me bring you up to date. </i><br />
<i>Tuesday, Everette's dad went to the emergency room with severe vertigo and some pain in his left arm. After being cleared of any serious heart or brain issues, he went home, with driving restrictions. Everette's parents left Wednesday afternoon to begin the drive to Branson. </i><br />
<i>Brad and Meghan (The bride and groom) boarded a plane at 7 AM Wednesday in <strike>Washington D.C.</strike> Baltimore with their dog, Isabelle. Around 10 AM they landed at Chicago O'Hare. </i><br />
<i>Wednesday Morning a Gigantic, terrifying, tornado making monster storm started moving east across the country. </i><br />
<i>Brad and Meghan landed, and learned their next flight had been cancelled. They were rescheduled for 2 PM. 2 pm came and went, and there was no flight. And the stormed raged on. They were rescheduled for 8 PM. (BTW-I am totally making these times up, because really they don't matter. Just know they were on two flights that were cancelled and scheduled for an 8-8:30ish PM flight. i.e. the last flight out) </i><br />
<i>Mary and WL (everette's parents) left Wednesday afternoon, hoping to make it to St Louis, Mary being the only able-bodied driver (i.e. not on Valium). Several hours, one monsoon, and ONE flat tire later, they made it to their hotel. </i><br />
<i>The storm raged on. </i><br />
<i>Meanwhile back in Indiana, Everette and I (and my parents) are packing and planning, getting ready for our 7 AM departure. With our ear to the ground (or tuned to the cell phone) ready to move into action, should our fellow sojourners need anything.</i><br />
<i>In Chicago, Meghan and Brad, are waiting, and hoping, and taking Isabelle out to pee. 8 PM came... two-hour delay. More thunder, lightening, and big winds. 10:30 comes. Last flight to Springfield-cancelled. </i><br />
<i>So in Indiana... Everette is on standby, ready to drive to Chicago to rescue the stranded bride and groom. Brad and Meghan, after being denied passsage on the 8AM flight, as a last ditch effort tried to rent a car. </i><br />
<i>At this point all three parties maintain radio silence. Nail biting, phone checking, and praying, continued in Indiana. Finally, after an hour of silence, at Midnight-thirty Everette and I head to bed. Just as this spectaular storm starts heating up in Indiana. </i><br />
<i>One hour later, the tornado siren went off. We dress, and turn on the TV, and debate whether to wake up Jonathan. Sirens turn off, Chad Evans says worst part of the weather is over. Lights off. Back to bed. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Alarm clock goes off at 5:45 Eastern. Hit Snooze. 6 AM get up and load the car. </i><br />
<i>Meanwhile back in Chicago.....</i><br />
<i>Brad and Meghan were unsuccessful in renting a car. So they make friends with two perfect strangers, loaded themselves along with Isabelle but sans luggage into a minivan and took turns driving through the night to Springfield, MO. Arriving at the butt-crack of dawn.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Flash to 9 AM Central Time Mary and WL are on their way to the tire store, to fix the flat. We are west of Effingham Illinois, and Brad and Meghan made it to the Springfield airport to pick up the rental car they had already arranged. Hoping their luggage will arrive in Springfield by the promised 1 PM time</i><br />
<i>Whew! This wedding is already a production, and we are just getting started.</i><br />
<i>UPdate: Just heard from Mary Mills, van needed four new tires and alignment WL is feeling lightheaded and sitting with his head between his knees. He says it's just the vertigo. :)</i><br />
<br />
Last Update: The bride and groom made to Springfield, procured their marriage license, and eventually secured their luggage. We (Everette and I) made it Branson before his parents who left on Wednesday evening .<br />
<br />
Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-35055831217068496852013-04-16T23:23:00.001-04:002013-04-16T23:23:20.873-04:00The Wedding.. Part OneThis past weekend, Everette and I headed to Branson, Missouri to celebrate the his middle brother's wedding. It was a fantastic weekend. For a few reasons.<br />
<br />
1. My parents came along.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3V4YwP_xIJg_G5DSpzPtgjE4Nc-VWYwDldjtL8oz-VXNIVbEGoKN32lPBiDJTK3pmeMuINnpn1Ydp-1X-83li0zSw0_lH86OluIddajowkdAlVdlNIAGFy09vypYqdRm1WP2lI7mOtVQ/s1600/20130411_083301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3V4YwP_xIJg_G5DSpzPtgjE4Nc-VWYwDldjtL8oz-VXNIVbEGoKN32lPBiDJTK3pmeMuINnpn1Ydp-1X-83li0zSw0_lH86OluIddajowkdAlVdlNIAGFy09vypYqdRm1WP2lI7mOtVQ/s320/20130411_083301.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Everette was a groomsman, I was a bridesmaid and Jonathan was a ringbearer. I quickly realized we were going to need reinforcements. So I asked my mom to come along as the granny-nanny. Then I convinced my dad to come along as the Granny-Nanny Navigator/Arm-Candy. My mom got lost in my neighborhood once, so she doesn't have the best reputation. The truth is my parents were invited to the wedding, but I quickly put them to work and exploited them for my own gain.<br />
They were a God-send. Literally. This weekend would have been disastrous without them.<br />
<br />
2. This was our view from the hotel room.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR-_uZ37n3KWv42ZBcnP95IMHa-tW4m18PuNzc_BhXnbdN-l7TUgmeXKxSgKk0IKxyJapAnLlxBHTqKDxqOImHStOhpADRM04rsEfA4njAlFM171UbkCC5tFCyly_9NJbIFtrPwCbUz5U/s1600/20130411_152259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR-_uZ37n3KWv42ZBcnP95IMHa-tW4m18PuNzc_BhXnbdN-l7TUgmeXKxSgKk0IKxyJapAnLlxBHTqKDxqOImHStOhpADRM04rsEfA4njAlFM171UbkCC5tFCyly_9NJbIFtrPwCbUz5U/s320/20130411_152259.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Yes, those are train tracks. and yes that is a train station. And yes there was a train that departed every three hours from that station.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBshCgl3vXcSYVSHcLggBHyI4EbamIN9o1Yh767BekMrHGQTknH1Gkho3LUwOsaiO8ilBdBtuAMm7LOEYNKcrUOsJ9lf4mzAgxPRaQ-UsX6mskt4CAldNmGjMKL4GCctQ0r1m8WuTYXo/s1600/164961_10200449332949922_949457661_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBshCgl3vXcSYVSHcLggBHyI4EbamIN9o1Yh767BekMrHGQTknH1Gkho3LUwOsaiO8ilBdBtuAMm7LOEYNKcrUOsJ9lf4mzAgxPRaQ-UsX6mskt4CAldNmGjMKL4GCctQ0r1m8WuTYXo/s320/164961_10200449332949922_949457661_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
And yes we could see it right out of our bedroom window....<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq3TgasLIXy8aBxnXJmccRQniNPiYbrnCu_epUc-M69REB1S6Ut_pYkqY9dEO-ugy3SBLSr33mckIgTUSze0QvJELnBGQ6zOZDMCws_8_hdr62Jj6X4ZmqWovnQjuLFj9pFr9lG-eHN4/s1600/20130412_090507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq3TgasLIXy8aBxnXJmccRQniNPiYbrnCu_epUc-M69REB1S6Ut_pYkqY9dEO-ugy3SBLSr33mckIgTUSze0QvJELnBGQ6zOZDMCws_8_hdr62Jj6X4ZmqWovnQjuLFj9pFr9lG-eHN4/s320/20130412_090507.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
The hotel room, that was beautiful. That had a balcony, and BEST OF ALL it had connected rooms with my parents. Of all of the things I was hoping this weekend to be, having a connected room to my parents was TOP of the list. And to top it all off, Jonathan spent the weekend sleeping in my parents room. SUWEET!!!<br />
<br />
I'll keep it short for now. More later. I have to drag this out because I don't have anything else to talk about, except the fact that my dog ate my broccoli. And I find that depressing.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-7053424454402339762013-04-15T22:04:00.004-04:002013-04-15T22:04:48.604-04:00Rabbit FoodLiterally.<br />
It's that time of year, that time of year when I convince myself that spending hours down on my knees digging in the dirt is fun. My back does not believe it.<br />
Today was time to get a jump on the garden. A few weeks ago we planted some lettuce, spinach and sugar snap peas. I forgot to take pictures, so stay tuned for those.<br />
<br />
Today I planted 19 billion broccoli plants, some cabbage, red cabbage and some Napa cabbage.<br />
Last year I planted broccoli three different times because the dang bunnies kept eating them. Dang Bunnies. Those dang bunnies made a cozy little nest under my deck and all of my broccoli, three times. My back does not like the bunnies. This year I declare war on the bunnies.<br />
I will fight them with bars and bars of Irish Spring soap.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ELXV_3dHhRBF5qX5Hlp66VwNYdQWcqxp45ujFlVIpjiAuJ22GxYatINB_BlRIUA8Mz6iGomkU-FuXnaJiz3V5yGcKSQwf1OzcA76hcdqDYuGaG0FNW5mAtltydsaarbUyG6QgHsgslc/s1600/IMG_20130415_054055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ELXV_3dHhRBF5qX5Hlp66VwNYdQWcqxp45ujFlVIpjiAuJ22GxYatINB_BlRIUA8Mz6iGomkU-FuXnaJiz3V5yGcKSQwf1OzcA76hcdqDYuGaG0FNW5mAtltydsaarbUyG6QgHsgslc/s320/IMG_20130415_054055.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNdJvSW1IDFomPnxfAhCxE6javWWOuXYQ1olVP36PRT2Jw85r0ip9hERpIRmxoCfS2hZylxdsR0hIAldBgg03VfxX0dsqSKRMpXgE3nCgxt93__5kKkmmMq5LVKwZ8nQRrAMPIiLATKI/s1600/IMG_20130415_054230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNdJvSW1IDFomPnxfAhCxE6javWWOuXYQ1olVP36PRT2Jw85r0ip9hERpIRmxoCfS2hZylxdsR0hIAldBgg03VfxX0dsqSKRMpXgE3nCgxt93__5kKkmmMq5LVKwZ8nQRrAMPIiLATKI/s320/IMG_20130415_054230.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeD6E-9Ar3G1SmtGiC0koEDuV0TfJMmeoJ9YPjToiz_Xk_TYIXSTNI9ffxLNfdD53jzuewfNnqRVaR6KCosthkUzNiB6zV9E4imqsrma12c7funXuN8m9yOBJeiEDdojHnjSItAF9q8qc/s1600/IMG_20130415_054317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeD6E-9Ar3G1SmtGiC0koEDuV0TfJMmeoJ9YPjToiz_Xk_TYIXSTNI9ffxLNfdD53jzuewfNnqRVaR6KCosthkUzNiB6zV9E4imqsrma12c7funXuN8m9yOBJeiEDdojHnjSItAF9q8qc/s320/IMG_20130415_054317.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I also planted 25 bazillion onions. Sweet onions. Sweet. Sweet. Onions. I love sweet onions. These onions are called Candy Onions. They are delicious. They are gigantic. They are awesome. The bunnies do not eat these. I love them. Really love them. Like. A lot.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLasyOmvfCikFz39UZaxA7riS8Y903ZEEhfX1eSfVqCkk_u7dPNzzKuBwrpPD1qL0v6Wi5PrLNOO_6F-ryu2M6LlViC7TTcKPw-EecbbfEyFcz47CrEgR42rJZJkMlO3Px_fKGwaxTGA/s1600/IMG_20130415_081046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLasyOmvfCikFz39UZaxA7riS8Y903ZEEhfX1eSfVqCkk_u7dPNzzKuBwrpPD1qL0v6Wi5PrLNOO_6F-ryu2M6LlViC7TTcKPw-EecbbfEyFcz47CrEgR42rJZJkMlO3Px_fKGwaxTGA/s320/IMG_20130415_081046.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBa6L7cziN1rz63YLQKPy9V656H74d020mtDq2OYdIr74vghCY8Lu2FUtGbPGrmmkF7RmJZyWVbmD5Y1yzEtbVP_wnh038cJ1SonbfCLweXXYKwJtFatvLHyiGSoHvjJsbKOz6JYfTI_4/s1600/IMG_20130415_081117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBa6L7cziN1rz63YLQKPy9V656H74d020mtDq2OYdIr74vghCY8Lu2FUtGbPGrmmkF7RmJZyWVbmD5Y1yzEtbVP_wnh038cJ1SonbfCLweXXYKwJtFatvLHyiGSoHvjJsbKOz6JYfTI_4/s320/IMG_20130415_081117.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Next up... tomatoes, beans, and cucumbers, and the herbs. Dig. Dig. Dig.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-62952949313370010472013-04-09T00:21:00.002-04:002013-04-09T00:21:48.899-04:00Ride Like The Wind....Or ride into the wind.<br />
<br />
A few years ago, Everette lost his marbles and decided to be a biker. And I stupidly got caught up in it.<br />
Well, that's not really the truth. The truth is, learning to ride a bike saved our marriage. Well, that's not really the whole truth either. The truth is, God saved our marriage, by making us bike riders. But that is really a story for another time.<br />
<br />
The point of this post is to talk about Everette. Everette and Jonathan. When we first got married Everette served on the board of directors for <a href="http://lafayettehabitat.org/">Lafayette Habitat for Humanity</a> (if you never heard of Habitat, clearly you live under a rock). He has been involved with them for the past ten years.<br />
<br />
Indiana Habitat puts on <a href="http://www.hfhcoverindiana.org/">Cover Indiana Bike Tour</a>. A ridiculously long bike ride beginning in Lafayette and ending in Indianapolis and meandering all over the state. Everette is only doing the first day. Lafayette to Crawfordsville. 51 miles. 51 long long miles. In the wind. Up hills. In the blistering sun. In the pouring rain.<br />
Sounds like fun, no?<br />
<br />
To add an element of nuttiness. Everette is going to drag Jonathan, along. Uh. I mean, Jonathan is going to pedal.<br />
<br />
Last year Jonathan outgrew our bike trailer. And we thought our long bike riding days were over. There was no way Jonathan was going to pedal his own bike 30+ miles on a bike trail with us. We were also pretty sure Jonathan would never tolerate sitting on a tandem, pull-behind bike, where there was nothing to do but sit up straight and look at the scenery.<br />
So we found this crazy contraption called a <a href="http://rideweehoo.com/">WeeHoo IGo</a>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTCnroyhTQ1DfYjZzwW9UtXPcy4TT6nEAqVIqnrfv8Z0PypYs4D1NY0ROnV5U2DKzHIpsEeqxaj2HL_vF8JyKEkf5i_nrrHIT559rmmcTfjsp_mTFAW7fYXWijnaffMSwoGPtMTD_4z6M/s1600/2013-04-07+13.02.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTCnroyhTQ1DfYjZzwW9UtXPcy4TT6nEAqVIqnrfv8Z0PypYs4D1NY0ROnV5U2DKzHIpsEeqxaj2HL_vF8JyKEkf5i_nrrHIT559rmmcTfjsp_mTFAW7fYXWijnaffMSwoGPtMTD_4z6M/s320/2013-04-07+13.02.29.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It isn't cheap. But it's kind of awesome. After some researching, and some thinking, and some<br />
discussing. We decided to get it.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7P55g99oSd0JuFBuftEv46FBJinIlwa9j1xFgAVIcEOarK1JfB1XtxIIi7KlNM9Tds_kZH3UAn0aDlF5aIEjel2Yj99l1WonPtgL2crUXrtNirMX-sssglsVbjE8mHudByv9fxOx3bAA/s1600/2013-04-07+13.02.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7P55g99oSd0JuFBuftEv46FBJinIlwa9j1xFgAVIcEOarK1JfB1XtxIIi7KlNM9Tds_kZH3UAn0aDlF5aIEjel2Yj99l1WonPtgL2crUXrtNirMX-sssglsVbjE8mHudByv9fxOx3bAA/s320/2013-04-07+13.02.30.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
It's a little early in the bike riding season but I think we made the right choice.<br />
It is also going to allow Everette to tow Jonathan fifty-one miles to Crawfordsville, assuming Everette doesn't pass out.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6B7ADT76BKDwrC1bHgpyoBNah7d94X9zJsFV7JeMHW2vDjt3wJs8YrG2Tp9Mli8t7AeSmN1IQAjUAA5B_fe_Psqp_LvNDOsWHjgSItitOQvCoD84emeX1W4li5uScNTfcJBzwNhXfFSY/s1600/2013-04-07+13.02.32-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6B7ADT76BKDwrC1bHgpyoBNah7d94X9zJsFV7JeMHW2vDjt3wJs8YrG2Tp9Mli8t7AeSmN1IQAjUAA5B_fe_Psqp_LvNDOsWHjgSItitOQvCoD84emeX1W4li5uScNTfcJBzwNhXfFSY/s320/2013-04-07+13.02.32-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
The pictures here are from our first practice "ride" of the season. We went 23 miles down and back to Colburn. Everette and Jonathan, and me dragging my sorry-self behind.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisOVsKMVS9kfVrjg_LYwuApM-Qr02X4-6UpmP2w9e1q-oDrH4TnaXPQsYax2ohmagUotD_9ov9V7NHxFtqmsU_TJxoZ_nhqgCFMuVPe1CJq5bBzOve1f_ZgRyY5vEHf7hv6Hl90vZWDA/s1600/2013-04-07+13.02.32-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisOVsKMVS9kfVrjg_LYwuApM-Qr02X4-6UpmP2w9e1q-oDrH4TnaXPQsYax2ohmagUotD_9ov9V7NHxFtqmsU_TJxoZ_nhqgCFMuVPe1CJq5bBzOve1f_ZgRyY5vEHf7hv6Hl90vZWDA/s320/2013-04-07+13.02.32-2.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwy5C3XJcvkIvt_Umge3rPZ8p2vB25pVrLo6B7583PMPs9kAVjOzmLlNlJEALlav4j5N2qJhGnTTunK1FUJamsvobVW-G3vuyLL0g1fIGeXsWGaPl_DP3Sh8F8UY-0IWGVy4F_H2aRz7A/s1600/2013-04-07+13.02.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwy5C3XJcvkIvt_Umge3rPZ8p2vB25pVrLo6B7583PMPs9kAVjOzmLlNlJEALlav4j5N2qJhGnTTunK1FUJamsvobVW-G3vuyLL0g1fIGeXsWGaPl_DP3Sh8F8UY-0IWGVy4F_H2aRz7A/s320/2013-04-07+13.02.33.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Obviously, the Cover Indiana Bike Tour is a way to raise awareness and money for Habitat. <a href="https://sna.etapestry.com/fundraiser/HabitatforHumanityLafayette_1/cover2013/individual.do?participationRef=1615.0.239336481">Everette and Jonathan are raising support</a>. You can support them by clicking on the link you just blew passed. Their goal is $1000! Will you help them reach it? If you stay tuned I will provide updates on training and the actual event. Which takes place Sunday May 5th.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Tkre6DRyD2ejANT5fmT6rqYY0vxVBixo2MmMymuFziDEcioHTa9tDWEIUt3gfi-0lj9MCECVzMIp6RZC_s67cfSJXyvYctUxcu3n5LvIiX2N5RBgSkKdYBw-JQ8kPu_fXsbv9BIQ1gY/s1600/2013-04-07+13.02.34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Tkre6DRyD2ejANT5fmT6rqYY0vxVBixo2MmMymuFziDEcioHTa9tDWEIUt3gfi-0lj9MCECVzMIp6RZC_s67cfSJXyvYctUxcu3n5LvIiX2N5RBgSkKdYBw-JQ8kPu_fXsbv9BIQ1gY/s320/2013-04-07+13.02.34.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
To clarify. I am NOT riding my bike from Lafayette to Crawfordsville, because I am not an idiot. I will be driving the SAG wagon. And reading. And providing snacks and juice boxes to the weary riders. And Jonathan.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-43238604568382044572013-04-04T21:53:00.001-04:002013-04-04T21:53:21.219-04:00But it isn't fairToday I learned a valuable lesson. Its about forgiveness, and living with the consequences of sin.<br />
Where did I learn it? In my kitchen.<br />
Who did I learn it from? My five-year-old son.<br />
<br />
Thursday evenings have turned out to be a rare family day at the Mills house. It is the first day since Sunday that we don't have something scheduled in the evening. It is a time for playing Frisbee in the backyard and spontaneity. Now that the weather is improving, it is time for impromptu trips to Budges. Delicious ice cream. Cheap and nearby.<br />
Today after some backyard baseball and hamburgers on the grill, Everette got a hankering for Budges. Jonathan was in rare form at dinner, a little squirmy, but starving. He pounded down a burger and salad with minimal prompting. It was looking good for some delicious creamy soft serve, and a gallon of pellet ice. I was getting excited. There was no threats or nagging at dinner. We all pitched in to get the dishes cleared from the table. <br />
We were feeling lightness of spring. I was just grabbing a sweatshirt to join my boys in the van. I could taste the delicious vanilla chocolate dipped cone already. And then I heard it. The unmistakable cry of my melodramatic son. In that moment, I knew our trip to Budges was over before it begun.<br />
Everette and Jonathan, The Iron-willed Mills, had battled a round, and Jonathan had lost. As it should be. When raising your children, it is right that the son should lose to the Father.<br />
The struggle was asinine. As it always is. Jonathan wanted to bring his wiffle bat in the car to use as an electric guitar. Daddy said, "no." <br />
Daddy said, "give me the bat." Jonathan said, "no"<br />
Daddy said, "give me the bat, or else." Jonathan started throwing a fit.<br />
And that is how Mommy lost her ice cream.<br />
As the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth over the lost ice cream continued, I struggled to maintain my inner peace and my reservoir of patience was nearly dry. I was mad. Mad at my husband, because who really cares if Jonathan brings his wiffle bat, and do we really have to be the parents that "follow through" when ice cream is on the line? Mad at my son, because dad gum it, why can't he just do what we say! We're the boss, he is not.<br />
So while Everette and Jonathan are outside again, the consolation prize and relationship restoration, I am sitting in the house pouting. It just isn't fair.<br />
This got me thinking about a few things.<br />
1. I realized that this is only the beginning. It wasn't the first time I personally, would suffer the consequences of Jonathan's sin. And it won't be the last. This time the stakes were only ice cream. What if next time it's something higher. Like my pride. Or my personal property. Or something worse.<br />
2. It isn't just a one way street. Jonathan will likely suffer the consequences of my sin. And certainly Everette does. And I'm sure if I thought for any minute more, I would quickly form a list of others who have suffered also.<br />
My hope that in ten years when Jonathan is a raging hormonal teenager struggling to find his way, I will remember this lesson. And remember that he who has been forgiven much loves much, (Luke 7:47-paraphrase)<br />
3. The last important thing, is to always keep some ice cream in the house for these kinds of situations.<br />
peace love and wiffle ballsMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-24728135230313700292013-04-03T22:40:00.000-04:002013-04-04T15:12:55.880-04:00Verb ConjugationSo I am back. Today. For Now. I'm not making any promises.<br />
And we are going to start by keeping it simple.<br />
Jonathan is five n<br />
ow. And he has a pretty good handle on the English Language. But every once in a while we have some past tense verb conjugating issues...<br />
<br />
Jonathan drives his toy car...<br />
Yesterday he druuve his toy car.<br />
<br />
When the bow breaks...<br />
Yesterday the bow bruuke.<br />
<br />
But I seriously flippin' love this kid..<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEDEjczZQoJlHOTJbGxV5Pw1FQgip_nxVW_UhNvVbxxDnVm9UQiPlytKo7z8KqAN9ALNyUHyHSN0FxDLXjxpQG2uNgcm8H5guSBxqHV7z2V99RjKg82TGhl3O3s5eeLjX-u3Qrt-i7lUw/s1600/20121117_090216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEDEjczZQoJlHOTJbGxV5Pw1FQgip_nxVW_UhNvVbxxDnVm9UQiPlytKo7z8KqAN9ALNyUHyHSN0FxDLXjxpQG2uNgcm8H5guSBxqHV7z2V99RjKg82TGhl3O3s5eeLjX-u3Qrt-i7lUw/s320/20121117_090216.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I mean, how could you not?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Y4Ne2WhCiE3blEqPfZKycaJwYgKI2ovHxBJwZOgxPH6pYS4b9fhhktrSu8Lj9so2f8WWT8o_OL8OIf-t3prbSyS5hsOmQYILH1T4M5CU4yAe7QJN9_KcFPX6DYAzLkGVm616eHQcha0/s1600/2013-02-07+17.27.57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Y4Ne2WhCiE3blEqPfZKycaJwYgKI2ovHxBJwZOgxPH6pYS4b9fhhktrSu8Lj9so2f8WWT8o_OL8OIf-t3prbSyS5hsOmQYILH1T4M5CU4yAe7QJN9_KcFPX6DYAzLkGVm616eHQcha0/s320/2013-02-07+17.27.57.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This incredibly smelly, but super adorable...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtV3GK5ZK-Yk60oYQYmUxvYfr5jhxYb1hLnqyCp1KJNTothsgg5qdg9-UcDHXy0dbOpWLH6mQIUM5LiIngE6i9DhBBQXGNlsNyyuRCzUNZmJTzsZQnswpMM4hPLKhSBSzrNrrH3r7cPI/s1600/2013-02-28+20.26.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtV3GK5ZK-Yk60oYQYmUxvYfr5jhxYb1hLnqyCp1KJNTothsgg5qdg9-UcDHXy0dbOpWLH6mQIUM5LiIngE6i9DhBBQXGNlsNyyuRCzUNZmJTzsZQnswpMM4hPLKhSBSzrNrrH3r7cPI/s320/2013-02-28+20.26.06.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
light of my life.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-81186746863703011652011-10-09T18:26:00.001-04:002011-10-09T20:37:33.122-04:00DC part 2Since I know you all dying from suspense...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.dcmetromap.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/dc-metro-map2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.dcmetromap.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/dc-metro-map2.jpg" width="351" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">M</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Metro.</span> This is the name of DC's subway system. I was pretty nervous about how this was going to work with Jonathan. Especially since I was going to be by myself on Tuesday. But it couldn't have been easier. I don't have a lot of subway experience to compare this to, but it was stupidly easy. You find where you want to go, you look at the color you need to take you there. You look at the stop at the end of that line. et Voila! (sorry for the french again.) I mean, by the end Jonathan knew what to do. For example. Brad and Meghan live in Clarendon. Which runs on the orange line. And when we were in DC heading to their apartment, the last stop is Vienna. So you get to the station, look for the train that says Orange to Vienna. Then you count the stops until Clarendon.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7nqcBzc8_9_SBqhsPGqNbcSeoacTIqKxxBVFdkV-lrxI1u9_0maDY4x8Pj5KuJksCAPsjYGjIzn23wBITXeDI3vDCTCJOCPwqYFfaXl7tHoaMn96osweeiUM4rLpMngjOCyltmYC9s4/s1600/IMAG0457.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7nqcBzc8_9_SBqhsPGqNbcSeoacTIqKxxBVFdkV-lrxI1u9_0maDY4x8Pj5KuJksCAPsjYGjIzn23wBITXeDI3vDCTCJOCPwqYFfaXl7tHoaMn96osweeiUM4rLpMngjOCyltmYC9s4/s320/IMAG0457.jpg" width="320" /></a> Then you get off. Plus did I mention Jonathan LOVED it. I mean loved loved loved it. I cannot emphasize this enough. He would have been absolutely delighted to switch trains and ride the metro all day. Especially if we stopped to ride the escalators to the top every once in a while.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/d8/50/curious,expeditions,drinking,pose,giraffe,natural,history,museum,washington,dc-d850aa11bf3488bc9366a0dbb67b87ac_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjsRlqGzUxvOIHDpyoKZzxqUo9vIPGJrwQIYLy8wN2Exd00OoVo2q5uZKwlqrMxX11RN-nvTzbrT9YpMhQfT21bFly5j5V553yOIgqhDPZfq9-xhG5pZvD9tKe_0yzhoe-G7jqTJrHaQ/s1600/IMAG0458.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjsRlqGzUxvOIHDpyoKZzxqUo9vIPGJrwQIYLy8wN2Exd00OoVo2q5uZKwlqrMxX11RN-nvTzbrT9YpMhQfT21bFly5j5V553yOIgqhDPZfq9-xhG5pZvD9tKe_0yzhoe-G7jqTJrHaQ/s320/IMAG0458.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">N</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Natural History Museum.</span> This was the first stop of the whole
trip. At this point I am still trying to get my bearings, and have
little input (by my own choice) on the plans. I am basically just
following everyone else. This is how I like to do vacation. I do not
like to plan vacation. I just like to go on vacations. So we walk into this building that I assume is a museum, and started walking around. We were there for at least 45 minutes before I realized that I had no idea where we were. And for at least safety reasons, I should probably asked. Needless to say, Everette rolled his eyes. It is inconceivable that Everette would be anywhere for any amount of minutes and not know exactly where he was. Have I mentioned how different we are? Anyway, the Natural History museum was AMAZING!! We only made it through the rotunda. But we walked through room after room of beautiful, incredibly-realistic life-sized animals. Posed creatively. Meghan and I debated as we walked through, whether or not the animals were in fact real. Everette, Senor Smartypants, informed us, that they likely were not. Major buzzkill. I generally avoid taking pictures of things like this because there are a bazillion on the internet and they are usually better. So here are a few highlights from the world wide web, take note of the animals leaping and assuming very natural poses:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQbts8KmRvhO7B72TWBPrcHj5qUTXud_hko9stw8vAulUZD7Old5g" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQbts8KmRvhO7B72TWBPrcHj5qUTXud_hko9stw8vAulUZD7Old5g" /></a></div>
<a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/d8/50/curious,expeditions,drinking,pose,giraffe,natural,history,museum,washington,dc-d850aa11bf3488bc9366a0dbb67b87ac_m.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsFRU2_BkuQHOBuCJ2LzMWUPmDmhqsJFwuQSFUYVqDLpclvJqI" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsFRU2_BkuQHOBuCJ2LzMWUPmDmhqsJFwuQSFUYVqDLpclvJqI" /></a></div>
<a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/d8/50/curious,expeditions,drinking,pose,giraffe,natural,history,museum,washington,dc-d850aa11bf3488bc9366a0dbb67b87ac_m.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/d8/50/curious,expeditions,drinking,pose,giraffe,natural,history,museum,washington,dc-d850aa11bf3488bc9366a0dbb67b87ac_m.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
oh yeah, one thing I did take a picture of was a tower of giant disease molecules. diseases or epidemics that have had a large impact on people population. There was cholera, dysentery, HIV, influenza and some others. I thought it was super cool.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8w9xJVQqNcNIUSJI2Pt9BhkXwMmGLZFRWbsrWaMcgGvC9_8oIIyn73219WoQaagAECtANFbNpjwbNCdeeHW-UmQORI0CqLr003KAYCm9vHgiDkFBQOp-DGOs8FnxiA2YgtG136Vfpe0/s1600/IMAG0452.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0ldi7pn-__afBhVitXSHD2V8gzZs9wYWSTUUEoiDg-cqWFU7p9zw0JvTfIR4lqoo4Bb7BzVe73s1yVuEr7LfIrp_54G4z7sU_G4cgsRfZwbxFN6m_yik7GYQ6j8-qxMuKplLW0Sp_O8/s1600/IMAG0453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0ldi7pn-__afBhVitXSHD2V8gzZs9wYWSTUUEoiDg-cqWFU7p9zw0JvTfIR4lqoo4Bb7BzVe73s1yVuEr7LfIrp_54G4z7sU_G4cgsRfZwbxFN6m_yik7GYQ6j8-qxMuKplLW0Sp_O8/s320/IMAG0453.jpg" width="191" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8w9xJVQqNcNIUSJI2Pt9BhkXwMmGLZFRWbsrWaMcgGvC9_8oIIyn73219WoQaagAECtANFbNpjwbNCdeeHW-UmQORI0CqLr003KAYCm9vHgiDkFBQOp-DGOs8FnxiA2YgtG136Vfpe0/s1600/IMAG0452.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8w9xJVQqNcNIUSJI2Pt9BhkXwMmGLZFRWbsrWaMcgGvC9_8oIIyn73219WoQaagAECtANFbNpjwbNCdeeHW-UmQORI0CqLr003KAYCm9vHgiDkFBQOp-DGOs8FnxiA2YgtG136Vfpe0/s320/IMAG0452.jpg" width="191" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">O</span> is for<span style="font-size: large;"> Orangarangtang Pee</span>. On Tuesday, Jonathan and I braved the Metro all by ourselves and Headed North to the Zoo. We'll save the rest of the zoo for later (Z is for...) but the highlight by far were the orangarangtangs (you get that that's what Jonathan calls them, right). They had an area in the Great Ape house, and in the middle of their yard was a giant tower, not too unlike those large metal power lines. There were two cables stretching across the sidewalk to another tower, and then another. They really resembled power lines (just call me Lady Redundant Woman-name that show). I noticed them earlier, curious as to what they were, but continued on. As we were marching up the hill, Jonathan noticed the orangarangtangs and wanted to stop and look at them again. I was all too happy to take a break. As soon as we stopped the youngest orangarangtang started climbing the tower. We grabbed a spot on a nearby bench to watch. The ape climbed higher and higher, and the two others followed. They climbed until they reached the top and walked out onto those two cables. Apparently, they are able to walk across the towers to another part of the zoo where they can hang out. Freaky! At this point two zoo staffers stood up and cleared the area underneath. They warned us that they commonly relieved themselves (both numbers) as they walked across. I believed them, but thought it unlikely we would witness it. Not so! The first orangarangtang stopped right over the sidewalk, and peed. Right in front of us. We were out of the splash zone, but it was an awesome sight to behold. Awesome, that is, if you are either a boy or the mother of a boy. Most of the girls screamed in horror. Of course, I have pictures (not of the peeing, don't worry).<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3vECbkRX8lM6SRHCkSD8d4ofBy0krFg8zN56jt9m37MwMr8ODtgUXSGGR90FWW1AjRby_gGmLMlczrDuSLq_o2YBHxfDM_W8G3b1y9z3-ObYlUe0WIdZfBJmyVqrhdTGDpdhecEPDCU/s1600/IMAG0484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3vECbkRX8lM6SRHCkSD8d4ofBy0krFg8zN56jt9m37MwMr8ODtgUXSGGR90FWW1AjRby_gGmLMlczrDuSLq_o2YBHxfDM_W8G3b1y9z3-ObYlUe0WIdZfBJmyVqrhdTGDpdhecEPDCU/s320/IMAG0484.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was seconds before the pee</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtS546wL_DsqgK36fzM-u-2UoMdU8tiXp6lVtwWT5yONCGkHAy7nFeaxWygIA-fnyqJ2y5vsL8pf4OPesHMxG3OEpwPs3_zcv2M657TUavRy719upLWIlFHoH3kpA_phunG-weKIiaUI/s1600/IMAG0483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtS546wL_DsqgK36fzM-u-2UoMdU8tiXp6lVtwWT5yONCGkHAy7nFeaxWygIA-fnyqJ2y5vsL8pf4OPesHMxG3OEpwPs3_zcv2M657TUavRy719upLWIlFHoH3kpA_phunG-weKIiaUI/s320/IMAG0483.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDxsBvkgFMZ6u4SFfk19dDEkUFviYYoSCLIU3QBmzA9ZukZonH3UAHE-9nSZPfneNv1t_IkEifed6rBoCXJLPPN_28cKLWfzUgnWBvME5r99O4ePkE5BJEYYzbeddegx1rjT9ALpXmII/s1600/IMAG0461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">P</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Pinkberry.</span> Earlier I said there were two things I wanted to do. The Holocaust Museum and Pinkberry. Pinkberry is like the Starbucks of frozen yogurt.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.moodiereport.com/images2/pinkberry_LAX_sept09.jpg&sa=X&ei=LjqSTr--IMGhsQK4nci_AQ&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Pg&usg=AFQjCNFjNXgP6VWFoLqW3P3J6y5wo9tZww" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.moodiereport.com/images2/pinkberry_LAX_sept09.jpg&sa=X&ei=LjqSTr--IMGhsQK4nci_AQ&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Pg&usg=AFQjCNFjNXgP6VWFoLqW3P3J6y5wo9tZww" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It started in California, and when we went to <a href="http://jemtrulyoutrageous.blogspot.com/2010/10/getting-there-is-half-battle.html">New York last year</a>, Brad and Meghan took us to one. I was in love. It was bright and cheerful. The Yogurt was this amazing blend of creamy yet still tart. The toppings were fresh. Fresh people.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://whtbmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/pinkberry1.jpg&sa=X&ei=njqSTr71FaX7sQLJ_MWpAQ&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNFLNv4nZ_kAq0CuzoKJ7BTUYG54hg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://whtbmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/pinkberry1.jpg&sa=X&ei=njqSTr71FaX7sQLJ_MWpAQ&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNFLNv4nZ_kAq0CuzoKJ7BTUYG54hg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Fresh strawberries. Fresh pineapple. Fresh kiwi. And any other number of toppings. We only made it there once in NYC. When I got home I started searching for the nearest one. It was in Nashville, I cried. But, I found out a new one opened up literally around the corner from Brad and Meghan's apartment. We went every night. It was amazing. And delicious. And I was so happy.<br />
If you ever go. Get the original or the pomegranate with strawberries, pineapple and Cap'n Crunch, then sweetly ask them to sprinkle some yogurt chips on top. Pinkberry, please come to Purdue. Please.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPy8QXRzZIOsYI4pCskUKkHeiSH1TQsepty4Sv5-Xf-aqcHmiBfKj1qW2R7hDn2B39Pg-BJ6aQ67G2EN7nDPGAQf0LEwd7rJEnTQDgsvp0tCpuSG4virwxXTR-CDOElyWPFtFPItoowA/s1600/IMAG0451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPy8QXRzZIOsYI4pCskUKkHeiSH1TQsepty4Sv5-Xf-aqcHmiBfKj1qW2R7hDn2B39Pg-BJ6aQ67G2EN7nDPGAQf0LEwd7rJEnTQDgsvp0tCpuSG4virwxXTR-CDOElyWPFtFPItoowA/s1600/IMAG0451.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPy8QXRzZIOsYI4pCskUKkHeiSH1TQsepty4Sv5-Xf-aqcHmiBfKj1qW2R7hDn2B39Pg-BJ6aQ67G2EN7nDPGAQf0LEwd7rJEnTQDgsvp0tCpuSG4virwxXTR-CDOElyWPFtFPItoowA/s320/IMAG0451.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, are they not totally adorable.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Q</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Question</span>. Everette is a great person to have on a trip. I realized a long time ago, that Everette is a real live, walking, talking Search Engine. He is a wealth of information. I have started asking Everette to "google" things in his head. I think it's hilarious, I am not sure he does. When we go places, I just ask him random questions. At the air and space museum, I asked would point to things and ask him what they were. There was this giant flying bicycle contraption made out of saran wrap hanging from the ceiling. We weren't close enough to read the sign, but I asked Everette. He of course knew exactly what it was (the Gossamer Condor), and rattled off a bunch of facts about it, including that it flew across the English Channel, which when asked, he knew exactly how many miles across it was.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://joeorman.shutterace.com/City/Washington/space_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://joeorman.shutterace.com/City/Washington/space_04.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Doubtful, Meghan and I went over to verify. We read the sign, and it said nothing about the English Channel. We exchanged smug self-satisfied looks. Then as we walked away, I saw at the very bottom in tiny letters, that this particular craft crossed the English Channel (21 miles). I leaned over to Meghan, and said, "Never question Everette, he is usually right."<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">R</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Rain</span>. It rained every day we were there,except Tuesday. Tuesday it was bright and sunny and beautiful. Not a violent rain, but enough to be slightly annoying. Thankfully, with the exception of Saturday, it was mainly in the afternoon, and we were able to do almost everything we wanted to do.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">S</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Segway</span>. I want one. <span style="font-size: large;">S</span> is also for <span style="font-size: large;">Starbucks</span>. It makes me happy.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://cdn.ubergizmo.com/photos/2007/10/segway-mom.jpg&sa=X&ei=NjuSTv2eM8aOsQKF0uGcCQ&ved=0CAsQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNFs9GKwjhpQ0QhH8kG1N795zZWyaQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://cdn.ubergizmo.com/photos/2007/10/segway-mom.jpg&sa=X&ei=NjuSTv2eM8aOsQKF0uGcCQ&ved=0CAsQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNFs9GKwjhpQ0QhH8kG1N795zZWyaQ" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think this pictures is hilarious! Compounded by the fact, that I have that exact stroller.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">T</span> is for<span style="font-size: large;"> Tidal Basin</span>. Monday we spend the morning walking around the Tidal Basin and its surrounding monuments.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" height="255" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 479px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6C0xv8GaLoT4MaW6NzGmbouyuaUMc9X7g4wB8VCe1s3IWiwjaTujwVF1A_Ih1-tmoeuFgt4k3hjSxNwrzFAccILe-PaEna8uklghFHHBHAxoZYqOkkZXKdQVUk0Ezejgi9TkzVz16P0/s1600/IMAG0472.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6C0xv8GaLoT4MaW6NzGmbouyuaUMc9X7g4wB8VCe1s3IWiwjaTujwVF1A_Ih1-tmoeuFgt4k3hjSxNwrzFAccILe-PaEna8uklghFHHBHAxoZYqOkkZXKdQVUk0Ezejgi9TkzVz16P0/s320/IMAG0472.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meghan had to go back to work, so it was me and the three stooges. who walk like their pants are on fire. So this was my view for most of the morning. I've definitely seen worse.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Having seen most of them before, it wasn't very revelational, but we had a good time. Two noteworthy things... this is irony: FDR <i>hated</i> being seen in his wheelchair. He went to great lengths to avoid public appearances in it. How is he portrayed at his memorial? In his wheelchair.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHs3c1iEX8IwCBeBFYFcx8TM947DzT6GxDXUlkz52oD3Lda8SfKeCiar8rgzr176B2afhVwzMN1VCKFQyaNzJ1miSdtB7xcJE2M0wK6p0s3Uwj6aJFZg_-HvGTT0iQ2YGXNsVeSP1jboU/s1600/IMAG0473.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHs3c1iEX8IwCBeBFYFcx8TM947DzT6GxDXUlkz52oD3Lda8SfKeCiar8rgzr176B2afhVwzMN1VCKFQyaNzJ1miSdtB7xcJE2M0wK6p0s3Uwj6aJFZg_-HvGTT0iQ2YGXNsVeSP1jboU/s320/IMAG0473.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brad, with FDR's dog. The dog was life-sized. For real. You don't believe me?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The second, we walked through the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial. It was neat. I had one of those moments when you look at a piece of art and it doesn't really make sense, and then all of a sudden, it clicks and you have a whole new appreciation. The MLK monument is mainly three large pieces. Two on the outside that basically look like a giant rock. A rock that looks like rock, impressive right? Then in the middle like a wedged chopped out and thrust forward is MLK standing, cut out of the rock, Mount Rushmore style. Are you moved by my description, rock, and more rock, no metal accents, no color, just carved rock. As you come around the side of MLK there is a quote carved into the side of the rock, "Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope." Powerful imagery, no? As you stepped back to look at the statue, you notice the opening serves as the entrance of the monument. And at the moment I looked back, a large group of people poured out through that valley. It was pretty amazing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjofiTbNAD-7SBB0YipPJUI1Ib0CgObtOHxJNRz3kfbG6E6ycDkqWlGAsB-OrDzMcutk65cpGFTwgQ0jSKmPXt8Hp8ssrEOZXJnCSPzla2fqXOkKKNBbyc7ro264hPtCPy0PF7zOT_-fIE/s1600/IMAG0474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjofiTbNAD-7SBB0YipPJUI1Ib0CgObtOHxJNRz3kfbG6E6ycDkqWlGAsB-OrDzMcutk65cpGFTwgQ0jSKmPXt8Hp8ssrEOZXJnCSPzla2fqXOkKKNBbyc7ro264hPtCPy0PF7zOT_-fIE/s320/IMAG0474.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHs3c1iEX8IwCBeBFYFcx8TM947DzT6GxDXUlkz52oD3Lda8SfKeCiar8rgzr176B2afhVwzMN1VCKFQyaNzJ1miSdtB7xcJE2M0wK6p0s3Uwj6aJFZg_-HvGTT0iQ2YGXNsVeSP1jboU/s1600/IMAG0473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">U</span> is for<span style="font-size: large;"> Umbrella Stroller</span>. When we were planning for our trip, we decided we would definitely need a stroller, and the ones we had were bulky, and heavy. So I decided to call out to my network of moms and beg for handouts. My good friend, Amber offered her umbrella stroller. I was skeptical, because umbrella strollers generally are painfully too short for us. But I figured I could at least check it out. It is a Maclaren. Which, if you didn't know is the mac daddy of umbrella strollers. It pretty much rocked my world. And will the the next stroller purchase I ever make. This stroller, saved my life. and my sanity.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01Q7NnNlUjkIvx-pONwu1nIiEKqWUtoeca28fmymqMEqkXFWcI5kAFhRIKig6M2CMWJlI2nmFZzuT8RKiPezw05xyfOSgb8T5VBcYMtV0vsAu5cuTDmXc0HgPMAMf2rCn0-zBUUyXUDo/s1600/IMAG0480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01Q7NnNlUjkIvx-pONwu1nIiEKqWUtoeca28fmymqMEqkXFWcI5kAFhRIKig6M2CMWJlI2nmFZzuT8RKiPezw05xyfOSgb8T5VBcYMtV0vsAu5cuTDmXc0HgPMAMf2rCn0-zBUUyXUDo/s320/IMAG0480.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He is smiling, in case you were confused.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">V</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Vernon</span>. Mt Vernon. Our Sunday morning outing. It was pretty fun. The property was beautiful. The gardens were amazing.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPhKjxleuIU0puKvluPCu7XdfqIH5xd3P2sCr1Hb2aMXIIZKoamaNC5Zd7OU29GMfCq_m5Sh45O6ajYyY5YQFbCP4CDkDB2DzmSwepOs9H1vC4C54vyy2cCrfZeOpxLkx7MFwqm8x0bY/s1600/IMAG0459.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPhKjxleuIU0puKvluPCu7XdfqIH5xd3P2sCr1Hb2aMXIIZKoamaNC5Zd7OU29GMfCq_m5Sh45O6ajYyY5YQFbCP4CDkDB2DzmSwepOs9H1vC4C54vyy2cCrfZeOpxLkx7MFwqm8x0bY/s320/IMAG0459.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
Aside from seeing the bed George Washington died in, the dung repository was my personal favorite. Because who calls a pile of crap, a dung repository (also, you must say this with an terrible British accent)?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AeRLH6XDObjwHXO2iDPqLDzrmreZUNNY2HZpA71JMmU4ctlbVClOP-cAWvF7vEqOBFfWZcREbYhcXIMkngtf87WM1eMhclDPgjxT38O27ld7uJyfdDRCVKIIoXCmFpayLRvTsH-hE4I/s1600/IMAG0463.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AeRLH6XDObjwHXO2iDPqLDzrmreZUNNY2HZpA71JMmU4ctlbVClOP-cAWvF7vEqOBFfWZcREbYhcXIMkngtf87WM1eMhclDPgjxT38O27ld7uJyfdDRCVKIIoXCmFpayLRvTsH-hE4I/s320/IMAG0463.jpg" width="191" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lCbEdl3nwBByrvcPcESrwAhCm3K5Z9PsdCeomGQS1dC9IWhHiXVftlUVLzfGBdO21L_WCbF07AvtP5l0BHnvMSwP0pqzcNDxivHAh2IHoJicp77fY9tHiKFZyThNuDYF3WTZunXqfFQ/s1600/IMAG0462.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lCbEdl3nwBByrvcPcESrwAhCm3K5Z9PsdCeomGQS1dC9IWhHiXVftlUVLzfGBdO21L_WCbF07AvtP5l0BHnvMSwP0pqzcNDxivHAh2IHoJicp77fY9tHiKFZyThNuDYF3WTZunXqfFQ/s320/IMAG0462.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokwe_DUq1kX5r29MOBziijTBlZ7uL1Q8RBXY39YundXrXGjkII0frXJwQkVqcswIH8BcJr-khvu_mgu0eXZGdmtQYGQJf6o6nfzFpdD86be3IG5q9bnIdRYPOek6kQ3Ght241w8aF7e4/s1600/IMAG0477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />
By the way did you know that George Washington died in 1799? Everette did.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9st81ylR9NVh9FD5oszEr2geRqtXcXh96WUg1oR4-ZkpHdIoSrbmZoUd3eLQRUE6hBgG9iNdpBrzTi-aNGa3WyEpDejL9_yFDLLj3jF2CO-TUy3Fu8tqimBogl4beMqH_s_6ByoAmo2U/s1600/IMAG0469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9st81ylR9NVh9FD5oszEr2geRqtXcXh96WUg1oR4-ZkpHdIoSrbmZoUd3eLQRUE6hBgG9iNdpBrzTi-aNGa3WyEpDejL9_yFDLLj3jF2CO-TUy3Fu8tqimBogl4beMqH_s_6ByoAmo2U/s320/IMAG0469.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRNcuZuOGEqltfYq4JyyxebkNYC0XA8aSg3Oj8Fvdgv610lMdC7glpE5kKaIEM2Q6LPbAjvd5xgxKsQhky5L5Ft168PBGhx6qDH8PvTaRJGm3zUIUJUr-zl3NBbOUi3giRUDlapvHOLw/s1600/IMAG0468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2X0wILPEHKrVJfglLIHt4Ne1mSY15ldvYM0s7m0GkEDPh_8dAqCfCypGS9drpAxiGiVMAJgA3QZxGKe23lgBY7JUxgDgF_EHijTGLFy4xNxWdelNWpDMxCVsXO57K6FaR32wIk1BikVM/s1600/IMAG0466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2X0wILPEHKrVJfglLIHt4Ne1mSY15ldvYM0s7m0GkEDPh_8dAqCfCypGS9drpAxiGiVMAJgA3QZxGKe23lgBY7JUxgDgF_EHijTGLFy4xNxWdelNWpDMxCVsXO57K6FaR32wIk1BikVM/s320/IMAG0466.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSg9pghmIZ0_SdP1w4jcCXUf11RftckmrxDW2g5vzJ2Slngi9yUIefiab79bsrOAZM-Ah_uBYhnuHazIG68n5vrYAbYiXnv78ZY9D8Y8pcZ4Fj5VJep44RHpQynayLnep6odOtTyTEPo/s1600/IMAG0465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSg9pghmIZ0_SdP1w4jcCXUf11RftckmrxDW2g5vzJ2Slngi9yUIefiab79bsrOAZM-Ah_uBYhnuHazIG68n5vrYAbYiXnv78ZY9D8Y8pcZ4Fj5VJep44RHpQynayLnep6odOtTyTEPo/s320/IMAG0465.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Umm... Jonathan was a little squirrelly at Mt Vernon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">W</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Whole Foods.</span> Brad and Meghan also lived down the street from Whole Foods. Monday evening, I decided to make dinner for everyone, so I justified an excursion to check out the place. I had mixed feelings. The atmosphere was very pleasant, and the variety of cheeses would blow your mind. But I was seriously disappointed that they didn't have any zucchini or fresh oregano. Who runs out of those?<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">X</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">x-o- skeleton</span>. Ok that was a stretch. But at the zoo they had an invertebrate exhibit, featuring a lot of cool sea creatures. Including a tank of Nautiluses (Nautili?) swimming around. Something not cool? The giant display of UNCAGED spiders you had to walk through to get out of the building.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Y</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Yum!<span style="font-size: small;"> Sunday Morning we ate breakfast at the Silver Diner. I had a seriously fantastic omelet. The California (chicken, montery jack cheese, avacado, black bean salsa, etc.) So good. Then I drank two cups of coffee. Then I made Brad stop at a Krispy Kreme fifteen minutes from Mount Vernon because I told him I was going to pee in his fancy car, if he didn't. Then he said, I should have gone before we left the diner. Then I told him I did, but I still had to pee really bad. He said he wasn't worried, because his seats were leather. Then I said I was pregnant, then the car got really quiet and everyone turned to look at me, then I said, that I <i>was once </i>pregnant, and once you are pregnant your bladder is permanently damaged, and when you have to pee, it feels like someone is sitting on you. Then Meghan said she had to pee too, and he pulled over, because he is in love, and sometimes being in love makes you compromise your bathroom principles (Everette stops to let me pee too). But there was only one women's toilet so I had to thumbwrestle Meghan for it. And I peed in my pants a little. (no I didn't, yes I did. No I really didn't). And the worst part, is they weren't even serving Hot and Now doughnuts. I told Brad that I was going to get a giant coffee. He thinks I am really funny. </span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" height="239" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 536px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokwe_DUq1kX5r29MOBziijTBlZ7uL1Q8RBXY39YundXrXGjkII0frXJwQkVqcswIH8BcJr-khvu_mgu0eXZGdmtQYGQJf6o6nfzFpdD86be3IG5q9bnIdRYPOek6kQ3Ght241w8aF7e4/s1600/IMAG0477.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokwe_DUq1kX5r29MOBziijTBlZ7uL1Q8RBXY39YundXrXGjkII0frXJwQkVqcswIH8BcJr-khvu_mgu0eXZGdmtQYGQJf6o6nfzFpdD86be3IG5q9bnIdRYPOek6kQ3Ght241w8aF7e4/s320/IMAG0477.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me and Jonathan in the back of Brad's car. Not the pee episode. this was about 10:30 one night on our way back to the hotel. Thus the crazy look.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Z</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Zoo</span>. The zoo, was a series of disappointments and impressive saves. The zoo,
is really a beautiful park. It is however built on the side of a hill.
We began at the top. It was a straight shot down, but it was a dead end.
So after seeing everything, we (I) trudged ourselves to the top
of the hill, tired and hungry, and several blocks from the metro
station. The zoo itself was free, but the map was $2.00. Really not, that big of a
deal, except we were halfway through the zoo before we found a kiosk
selling them. After spending a good ten minutes trying to catch a
glimpse of the elusive pandas in their exhibit, we rounded the corner to
discover they were inside in the observation area. A sign would have
been nice. We walked into the great ape house to find it empty. But
emerged to find a family of gorillas eating and grooming in the outdoor
display. It was pretty amazing. Amazing! The animals were all pretty
active, and it was a beautiful day. We saw a tiger jump up against the
doors of his area, like he wanted in. Like Max does... times 100. The
dude was huge, and powerful. We saw a pride of lions, eating and playing with each other. With the big daddy lion keeping watch. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihepWUbRc5eNOCoRusyGN-zK5Dq_9VubGyx1sihr2EzdUhATNRDP7I5SxVT1627cCJCCE18Ldl3TYcA_tNUxhDjs1LOMG-cgYkYoHlxUIK9PdKjj7nXcIYLPrhyxhSmkyGnVwr3vqK0z0/s1600/IMAG0481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihepWUbRc5eNOCoRusyGN-zK5Dq_9VubGyx1sihr2EzdUhATNRDP7I5SxVT1627cCJCCE18Ldl3TYcA_tNUxhDjs1LOMG-cgYkYoHlxUIK9PdKjj7nXcIYLPrhyxhSmkyGnVwr3vqK0z0/s400/IMAG0481.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSU_oG3K2k_tdBlVfsCz8vgBBDHCU6EFy9C2I6pB2yTNNjJkBTTTMfHkscX-56Va91gvukisTsnuhpZoK_kLfnAk2c6mGuxlHiGgMMPAAVoHtaFq6VSskrZygc_DOSMX8qHheLe99HWI/s1600/IMAG0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />
But most impressive was my ability to navigate us there and back with no help and without getting lost or taking any wrong turns. Yes, I am patting myself on the back.<br />
<br />
There it is, the weekend by way of the alphabet. <br />
Thanks again to Brad and Meghan for hanging out with us, and just being so darn amazing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRNcuZuOGEqltfYq4JyyxebkNYC0XA8aSg3Oj8Fvdgv610lMdC7glpE5kKaIEM2Q6LPbAjvd5xgxKsQhky5L5Ft168PBGhx6qDH8PvTaRJGm3zUIUJUr-zl3NBbOUi3giRUDlapvHOLw/s1600/IMAG0468.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRNcuZuOGEqltfYq4JyyxebkNYC0XA8aSg3Oj8Fvdgv610lMdC7glpE5kKaIEM2Q6LPbAjvd5xgxKsQhky5L5Ft168PBGhx6qDH8PvTaRJGm3zUIUJUr-zl3NBbOUi3giRUDlapvHOLw/s400/IMAG0468.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRNcuZuOGEqltfYq4JyyxebkNYC0XA8aSg3Oj8Fvdgv610lMdC7glpE5kKaIEM2Q6LPbAjvd5xgxKsQhky5L5Ft168PBGhx6qDH8PvTaRJGm3zUIUJUr-zl3NBbOUi3giRUDlapvHOLw/s1600/IMAG0468.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>We love you! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuq_CQRlao2VXR0vZW-1ZBic0z1wX3n0WCAR9U5MFAJ27Tg7IehHf-L6YvpEe804J3WxwGNoAW_HH-U5CzUpoH5Vl6A5QV7BR1_zEz2qMMtVshkFbFdhYKB2SXbar3wxRaHB8CyoCqw1w/s1600/IMAG0489.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuq_CQRlao2VXR0vZW-1ZBic0z1wX3n0WCAR9U5MFAJ27Tg7IehHf-L6YvpEe804J3WxwGNoAW_HH-U5CzUpoH5Vl6A5QV7BR1_zEz2qMMtVshkFbFdhYKB2SXbar3wxRaHB8CyoCqw1w/s320/IMAG0489.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home: The Final Descent.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRNcuZuOGEqltfYq4JyyxebkNYC0XA8aSg3Oj8Fvdgv610lMdC7glpE5kKaIEM2Q6LPbAjvd5xgxKsQhky5L5Ft168PBGhx6qDH8PvTaRJGm3zUIUJUr-zl3NBbOUi3giRUDlapvHOLw/s1600/IMAG0468.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjsRlqGzUxvOIHDpyoKZzxqUo9vIPGJrwQIYLy8wN2Exd00OoVo2q5uZKwlqrMxX11RN-nvTzbrT9YpMhQfT21bFly5j5V553yOIgqhDPZfq9-xhG5pZvD9tKe_0yzhoe-G7jqTJrHaQ/s1600/IMAG0458.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-49795727355333950382011-10-08T21:18:00.003-04:002011-10-08T21:37:16.156-04:00Washington D. C. An Alphabet Lesson- Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMH_bxRtGPCS1hE18bH1RUkna9dd25qqxY7IeUzodR3-ELxYmm7v3WXnni4ywCSQIP8ZTx4iZIMnRNktdUzKFm2NdpJAwg9ctDACV2VCYki0fkjeUOGROgos407AY0MWmzCdQh2qiszU/s1600/IMAG0449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
This last weekend, we (me, Everette and Jonathan) trekked across the country to the great, non-state self-governing entity of Washington, District of Columbia. Really, columbia? Why people? I attempted to research this fact but the answers I found were unsatisfactory, and boring. So let's move on.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6C0xv8GaLoT4MaW6NzGmbouyuaUMc9X7g4wB8VCe1s3IWiwjaTujwVF1A_Ih1-tmoeuFgt4k3hjSxNwrzFAccILe-PaEna8uklghFHHBHAxoZYqOkkZXKdQVUk0Ezejgi9TkzVz16P0/s1600/IMAG0472.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6C0xv8GaLoT4MaW6NzGmbouyuaUMc9X7g4wB8VCe1s3IWiwjaTujwVF1A_Ih1-tmoeuFgt4k3hjSxNwrzFAccILe-PaEna8uklghFHHBHAxoZYqOkkZXKdQVUk0Ezejgi9TkzVz16P0/s320/IMAG0472.jpg" width="320" /></a>The trip was business and pleasure. <a href="http://jemtrulyoutrageous.blogspot.com/2010/11/peas-in-pod.html">Everette's brother</a> recently moved to the city and Everette goes there 3-4 times a year for business. Some grand meeting, where they sit and listen to people talk all day, about mail of all things. Apparently it's worth it in the end, because there is free beer. Free, only if you don't value your time, and any brain cells that died that day.<br />
You may not be surprised to learn that Everette was beyond excited when he learned he brother was relocating to the Capital City. If you have ever been to D.C. you know it is overflowing with historical monuments, museums, billions and billions of plaques to read, and they are almost all... FREE. A virtual mecca for all those uber nerds with a lockdown on their wallet. Thus you can now understand my husband's pleasure. Like I said to Brad this weekend. "D.C. is a place where Everette can come and get his nerd on without spending any money."<br />
<br />
Anyway, we had a magnificent time. Which I will now recount to you, using the alphabet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6C0xv8GaLoT4MaW6NzGmbouyuaUMc9X7g4wB8VCe1s3IWiwjaTujwVF1A_Ih1-tmoeuFgt4k3hjSxNwrzFAccILe-PaEna8uklghFHHBHAxoZYqOkkZXKdQVUk0Ezejgi9TkzVz16P0/s1600/IMAG0472.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lZ17EzPOvCsCYdeH2pZXuUns4DOBgNQeIoBoercs3IRfP4bROey8nbbaLl_o51sxj9Y3hQ3sRgbq1JWewZfv-KeFM_CtUz7PmAl8r-r6w2CzSaViF2twyi3ZIbfdd_2R0KaBDNOxP_Q/s1600/IMAG0488.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lZ17EzPOvCsCYdeH2pZXuUns4DOBgNQeIoBoercs3IRfP4bROey8nbbaLl_o51sxj9Y3hQ3sRgbq1JWewZfv-KeFM_CtUz7PmAl8r-r6w2CzSaViF2twyi3ZIbfdd_2R0KaBDNOxP_Q/s320/IMAG0488.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Airplane</span>. This was Jonathan's first ever airplane ride. It was fantastic. He loved it. He wasn't scared, and had a lovely time looking at the "christmas lights" out the plane window. And I had a great time, because on our return flight (that departed at 9:25 PM) as the flight attendant was picking up the last round of trash, looked at me with a genuine smile and said, "You have a very well behaved little boy." And I figured, if anyone would know, she would.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJqpxIZMhyphenhyphen0wQPoK_NxMkzzX2XRlw15XeLhknwTMICzB9TPT9ubS5qVMoW_H4hIu_Yhl7IPT_om7zsMhqaalYrayTn8yIwejJ7CzyROBOLQdhpVOaKfWtM4F2UTVzvRZAfkejjO-zwio/s1600/IMAG0429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">B</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Bicycle</span>. Let's just get this out of the way now, none of these are in any sort of chronological order. Brad, inspired by his brother's recent athletic accomplishment (this may not be true, but since it's my blog, that is what I am sticking with) has been thinking about getting a bicycle to take to work.He and Everette have been trading emails, but on Sunday afternoon in between football games while Jonathan was napping, Brad and Everette walked down to the bike store to check things out. The next day they went back and Brad purchased a bicycle. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">C</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Carseat</span>. Jonathan is old enough now, that the amount of special equipment needed to travel with him is minimal. He can sleep in a regular bed. He uses regular underwear. He can sit in a regular chair... but he still needs a carseat. We planned mostly to take the Metro where a seat wasn't needed, but if we were to ride in Uncle Brad's car we would need at least a booster. Brad and Meghan graciously agreed to find one for us, and as I suspected, they actually just bought one. So when we met Brad at the airport in his super fancy Audi A4 with leather seats, there was a booster seat in the back and present waiting for Jonathan. He was even kind enough to let Jonathan have a drink in the backseat. Uncle Brad is the best.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJqpxIZMhyphenhyphen0wQPoK_NxMkzzX2XRlw15XeLhknwTMICzB9TPT9ubS5qVMoW_H4hIu_Yhl7IPT_om7zsMhqaalYrayTn8yIwejJ7CzyROBOLQdhpVOaKfWtM4F2UTVzvRZAfkejjO-zwio/s1600/IMAG0429.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJqpxIZMhyphenhyphen0wQPoK_NxMkzzX2XRlw15XeLhknwTMICzB9TPT9ubS5qVMoW_H4hIu_Yhl7IPT_om7zsMhqaalYrayTn8yIwejJ7CzyROBOLQdhpVOaKfWtM4F2UTVzvRZAfkejjO-zwio/s320/IMAG0429.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super Daddy</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">D</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Daddy</span>. We have to give a major shout out to daddy, who made this trip possible. Everette goes to DC for work once a quarter. He usually leaves Monday evening and returns LATE Tuesday. But he looked at his airline points and his hotel points and thought he could swing two tickets and a few extra hotel nights. So we got to spend a long weekend with Uncle Brad and Meghan. So thanks Daddy for all of your hard work, and taking all those business trips so we could have a fun weekend. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">E</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Escalator</span>. As parents, we were talking up the airplane ride as some great milestone in Jonathan's life, and while he enjoyed it, it was nothing compared to the escalators and elevators he got to ride on. And another big thanks to Uncle Brad for encouraging Jonathan to push every button in the elevator EVERY time we got in. This is what uncles are for n'est pas? (sorry, I don't know what possessed me to bust out some french right there).<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9iWWZ8R5ziMyw-NCsPJbx7RcWiIUyMD1X7Mdwp6gbtDcavcX8-Xug2ZMrn2zVqi6nNMDRxpVWiGmrLDiQ6KbrFKN8DGrbCbFw_VaD0ab8Ki61c34iH0SFOBkWv7eEYB0MLw-vCXpb28U/s1600/IMAG0467.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9iWWZ8R5ziMyw-NCsPJbx7RcWiIUyMD1X7Mdwp6gbtDcavcX8-Xug2ZMrn2zVqi6nNMDRxpVWiGmrLDiQ6KbrFKN8DGrbCbFw_VaD0ab8Ki61c34iH0SFOBkWv7eEYB0MLw-vCXpb28U/s320/IMAG0467.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uncle Brad and Meghan</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">F</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Fairfield Inn</span>. So despite Everette's massive hotel points, and Brad and Meghan's amazing hotel connections to two different hotel chains, the best deal we could come up with was a room at the Fairfield Inn in Chinatown. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice hotel. Recently renovated. Clean. near the metro. Free Breakfast!! But it was a single room with a king and a pull out. Which meant that every night we put Jonathan to bed and then hid in the bathroom until he went to sleep. On the downside, tile and granite are not comfy or cozy. But on the plus side, I think I managed to locate and remove every freak hair on my face. Sorry, too much. But I am just keeping it real.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">G</span> is for<span style="font-size: large;"> Giant Squid</span>. And I mean giant. On Saturday we went to the Natural History museum and the had a real preserved giant female squid. It was freaky! And giant. And amazing. And did I mention giant. And as it turns out even though it was giant, it was not fully developed<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">H</span> is for <span style="font-size: large;">Holocaust Museum</span>. When our amazing trip planner, Meghan Houlihan asked what we wanted to do, I only had two things on my list. One of them was the Holocaust Museum. But I was pretty certain I did not want to take my four year old son, for a number of reasons. So after a morning of museums Brad and Meghan agreed to take Jonathan back to their apartment so we could go. I am not sure what I was expecting, but it was pretty amazing, and pretty intense. There was a lot of reading. Here are a few things of note. There were probably a couple hundred people walking through the exhibit with us, and it was almost completely silent. There was a tower in the middle of the exhibit that you could walk through on two levels and it was filled from top to bottom with photographs. They were all taken in the same town by a family of photographers. The town (I can't remember the name) was largely jewish and the photos were taken before the war. THey were just pictures of families and friends living life. It was very powerful to see all of these happy faces of real people that lived and breathed, and almost an entire town that was wiped out. I could go on and on and maybe someday I will, but just two more things. There was a room, almost completely full of shoes. Shoes of people who were gassed in the concentration camps. There were so many shoes. It was so tangible, and so real. You could smell the aging leather. It was very powerful. And written in the lobby of the museum before you go in, Isaiah 43:10 "You are my witnesses."<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I </span>is for <span style="font-size: large;">Isabelle</span>. Isabelle is Meghan's dog (and I think Brad claims her too most days). She is a tiny lhasa apso. As far as tiny dogs go, she is pretty cute. Jonathan loved her. He was constantly trying to play with her, corral her, and pester her. She was mildly terrified. But it kept Jonathan pretty occupied.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">J</span> is for<span style="font-size: large;"> Jonathan</span>. Jonathan was amazing on this trip. He was phenomemal on the airplane, in the subway, on the sidewalks. He was the picture of the perfect child. Especially since he was never in bed before 10 PM and he was always up before 8 AM. He was really great, which made the trip great for everyone. Jonathan the super trooper.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">K </span>is for <span style="font-size: large;">Kapleece Car</span>. Everywhere we turned there were police cars and ambulances. Jonathan, was in transportation heaven. Including a police blockade Saturday night that made it impossible for us to reach our hotel by car. We had to get out and walk it the last two blocks. Who loves the Big City?!<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">L </span>is for <span style="font-size: large;">Luggage</span>. Before we left Everette told me that we could check two bags for free. Sweet! Especially since the forecast was cold and rainy. Which means, when you are staying in a hotel, you have to bring lots of pairs of jeans, and warm clothes in case you get wet and muddy. Which equals two large HEAVY suitcases. To my credit, all of our stuff was in two large suitcases and one carry-on backpack. Everette was only moderately embarrassed to be seen with us.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned it gets better I promise..<br />
I will give you a little preview...<br />
<br />
O is for Orangorangtang pee...Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-65846658549940286692011-09-20T21:25:00.000-04:002011-09-20T21:25:14.160-04:00Coming out of Hiding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvME-kJzXtXfr6xJff1_Wt-NaPqfjOrRu5DBS9UGdvZXiGMuDCW3GEqIJl-xp3gSlaYZQHKisHcdWxvi0ZDnjEjuzGttBKRQgGnusFWaxrH7_DoTRWFo5XjAKrqL4Tadb-F4zc5hsjY2M/s1600/IMAG0421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Hey Everybody!<br />
I just wanted to let you know that I was a juror on a high profile criminal case all summer and I was sequestered. I was banned from communicating with the outside world. <br />
Really... <br />
really.<br />
<br />
So today is Jonathan's birthday and I plan on posting about that, but before that happened I had to write about this. This was worth coming out of seclusion for. <br />
<br />
Last spring, when the weather was warm, Everette and I got our bikes out and started riding them. And decided that we actually liked it. Everette and I move at different paces, both physically and mentally. Everette is full speed on everything, and I am more like the three-toed sloth. So we have difficulty finding activities, other than sitting on our butts watching television, that we enjoy doing together. But as it turns out, strapping forty pounds plus to the back of Everette's bike (read: Jonathan) adds enough drag for my slow lazy butt to keep up. SO we spent the summer scouting different bike paths around the state and braving the county roads near our house. <br />
This got Everette thinking... thinking he might like to do... a triathlon. <br />
A what? <br />
I know. crazy right. <br />
So he did some research, and found out Mississinewa state park does a sprint triathalon in early September. He debated, but eventually signed up.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLwQzigAzHQm8QIoCtC0ig8RCzJUyiOKyK_eA3ewQ2ZLMFILo8VFf4cyqICH5HP0Q15A6OH410xUoYea9CDOhBIEZq4q-LMFSrpIF95t8NWVyAyeGShVbuPSfEdRf1mHRlN4_ra8qFds/s1600/IMAG0415-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLwQzigAzHQm8QIoCtC0ig8RCzJUyiOKyK_eA3ewQ2ZLMFILo8VFf4cyqICH5HP0Q15A6OH410xUoYea9CDOhBIEZq4q-LMFSrpIF95t8NWVyAyeGShVbuPSfEdRf1mHRlN4_ra8qFds/s320/IMAG0415-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
He spent the summer training. <br />
Here are some highlights from his training. <br />
1. He decided going on a 25 mile bike ride with an impending hailstorm in the dark, was a good idea. As it turns out, it was not. I came home at 8:30PM to find him sprawled out on the bed, unable to move. He almost died, from stupidity. <br />
<br />
2. In an effort to train his body to perform well in any circumstance, he regularly went out to run or ride in the blistering, sweltering, scorching, disgusting heat of the day. I mean off the charts heat (remember July, people). He would come back and collapse into a sweaty heap on the floor. He almost died, from stupidity. <br />
<br />
3.My job was to funnel iced blue Gatorade down his gullet while he laid there until he recovered. He repaid me in hugs. Full-contact, stinky, sweaty, body hugs; requiring a complete change of clothing. Jonathan,and Everette both thought this was hilarious. Everette almost died, from stupidity.<br />
<br />
4. Whenever possible, Jonathan was his running companion, which meant he rode in the jogger sipping juice boxes, yelling, "faster! faster! Daddy!"<br />
<br />
5. We saved a lot of money on hot water, as there were a lot of cold showers this summer. <br />
<br />
6. Everette dropped 30+ pounds and what we saved in water, we made spent on new clothes. But it is worth it, because he is seriously looking sexy. <br />
<br />
Two weekends ago, was the big day. <br />
We packed up a crapload of camping gear and headed to Peru for an overnight campout. We set up the camper and two seconds later, the heavens opened and the left over tropical storms dumped buckets on us, as we tried to remember how to set up the awning. Everette sacked out early, and I stayed up stupidly late, reading a book and relishing the quiet. <br />
We woke early, and made breakfast, anxious to see what the day would bring. <br />
The afternoon before as we drove the bike route, I told Everette he had two additional goals to add to his one, of finishing under 2 hours. <br />
They were: 1. do not die. 2. do not get injured. <br />
To which he replied, "what do you mean, injured?"<br />
I said, "I don't care if you are sore, I mean, not requiring medical attention."<br />
His response: "Ok, I will not seek medical attention."<br />
I said, "not funny."<br />
<br />
at early o'clock in the morning, Everette went to the transition area, and set up all his gear. I followed with Jonathan, and then proceeded to stand around nervously for the next hour.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK00XeHkyx1-nzLfKfs9q1F7S2J6p5LBl9Uquz0N0-JFiH74u0I3MsQP0Am-QdRth-1BrYUlzrYJ7sY4Zbi_rE6xiQQ2yR4g8I-6DGnVYbPjToI34pAN8ENAt74QYvPWxgJ3gfl_jgLCo/s1600/IMAG0416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK00XeHkyx1-nzLfKfs9q1F7S2J6p5LBl9Uquz0N0-JFiH74u0I3MsQP0Am-QdRth-1BrYUlzrYJ7sY4Zbi_rE6xiQQ2yR4g8I-6DGnVYbPjToI34pAN8ENAt74QYvPWxgJ3gfl_jgLCo/s320/IMAG0416.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Meanwhile his parents and my mom showed up.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxmMkuUeClG7BB9WO2RezO3M9eSytA2diNVCzU1Os2PwvOrHTXEHdbOCy5hbEus3WdmAzC9TvC3ivEaHdzaW3r1ULZ6pxNF2JgLkYLnPaw9_SjpUwQTxznbHDwCNJLbpGL5N3A5giaAU/s1600/IMAG0417.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxmMkuUeClG7BB9WO2RezO3M9eSytA2diNVCzU1Os2PwvOrHTXEHdbOCy5hbEus3WdmAzC9TvC3ivEaHdzaW3r1ULZ6pxNF2JgLkYLnPaw9_SjpUwQTxznbHDwCNJLbpGL5N3A5giaAU/s320/IMAG0417.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
at 8:30 the race started, in the lake, it was chilly outside.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzdQPdQ9_NWVzfESeuZsLkFUdqEQFW761CwJJ-8WciUre9_HuCGXnUPIVzqIqwgJZHYG3DMZ-zPtmlpsfMOVBTCxqk-iR9AupWemOWgsWlSROFY1PKCJaUD3MHNrsan3eyQ2RY6ja4SY/s1600/IMAG0419.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzdQPdQ9_NWVzfESeuZsLkFUdqEQFW761CwJJ-8WciUre9_HuCGXnUPIVzqIqwgJZHYG3DMZ-zPtmlpsfMOVBTCxqk-iR9AupWemOWgsWlSROFY1PKCJaUD3MHNrsan3eyQ2RY6ja4SY/s320/IMAG0419.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Everette's sexy anklet, it tracked his time, that way if he didn't come out of the water in an hour they would go in looking for him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOM7reHN2DnptGhybEM4KKPDFQ8gPoZv0V_B3meTkCV3nVa1bmlYYt1N34wTmZMHBy3VR3QpWoGQT8IgkfYL2WQ5NTzwKF2Z7yT2Wr1bJ0u6QJjZpZ16jxvmmckOOmvqS6y_rVi3640mE/s1600/IMAG0418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOM7reHN2DnptGhybEM4KKPDFQ8gPoZv0V_B3meTkCV3nVa1bmlYYt1N34wTmZMHBy3VR3QpWoGQT8IgkfYL2WQ5NTzwKF2Z7yT2Wr1bJ0u6QJjZpZ16jxvmmckOOmvqS6y_rVi3640mE/s320/IMAG0418.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wrote his number on his arm and leg (125) in sharpie, but on his calf, they wrote his age. We aren't sure why, but I am guessing it has to do with medical treatment, in the event you should collapse. Everette is 30!!!! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvME-kJzXtXfr6xJff1_Wt-NaPqfjOrRu5DBS9UGdvZXiGMuDCW3GEqIJl-xp3gSlaYZQHKisHcdWxvi0ZDnjEjuzGttBKRQgGnusFWaxrH7_DoTRWFo5XjAKrqL4Tadb-F4zc5hsjY2M/s1600/IMAG0421.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvME-kJzXtXfr6xJff1_Wt-NaPqfjOrRu5DBS9UGdvZXiGMuDCW3GEqIJl-xp3gSlaYZQHKisHcdWxvi0ZDnjEjuzGttBKRQgGnusFWaxrH7_DoTRWFo5XjAKrqL4Tadb-F4zc5hsjY2M/s320/IMAG0421.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lovely silhouette Everette's new hot bod!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwX9WPBHN7k7CzFNL_Y7c1oMYJF3A4H7sxiWVTFH5LDC4_14jQvcgzRl-Wi4WQzZ4J63s-MpUjZE1BWCjYvfLaPQ74h7zbJZE1Mh-u80Rs-j4OpBA3-2TZK_L5YyqKdiYWHPOCY23TnY/s1600/IMAG0424.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwX9WPBHN7k7CzFNL_Y7c1oMYJF3A4H7sxiWVTFH5LDC4_14jQvcgzRl-Wi4WQzZ4J63s-MpUjZE1BWCjYvfLaPQ74h7zbJZE1Mh-u80Rs-j4OpBA3-2TZK_L5YyqKdiYWHPOCY23TnY/s320/IMAG0424.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right before the gun. Everette is right next to that giant red ball!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgiW0i8dYFEFGPpo2fUMwP3mxAMCk6-jLVqiru3_U4wA5VoE73ZJBF5DsuQfCNpAovTT-6OKBCVKyMoRejioCb-SQLZUkO16fOJUVjEbPB05QH5yAPI6shRQqQPnSAA-RGnpBDsxY_OoI/s1600/IMAG0426.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
Everette was in the fourth wave. so at 8:38 the gun went off and he started swimming. 11 minutes later he emerged onto the shore in 48th place. Not bad.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgiW0i8dYFEFGPpo2fUMwP3mxAMCk6-jLVqiru3_U4wA5VoE73ZJBF5DsuQfCNpAovTT-6OKBCVKyMoRejioCb-SQLZUkO16fOJUVjEbPB05QH5yAPI6shRQqQPnSAA-RGnpBDsxY_OoI/s1600/IMAG0426.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgiW0i8dYFEFGPpo2fUMwP3mxAMCk6-jLVqiru3_U4wA5VoE73ZJBF5DsuQfCNpAovTT-6OKBCVKyMoRejioCb-SQLZUkO16fOJUVjEbPB05QH5yAPI6shRQqQPnSAA-RGnpBDsxY_OoI/s320/IMAG0426.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
<br />
He trudged up the hill barefooted and soaking wet to the transition area to pull on socks, shoes, and jersey and other bike gear.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyhHKn5to4r0u-SeqIStVi0Ha5G26xtbGoa1zn1WWGdTmOY4wQ08GA6daj2n5ZCFIc3qR0NI2ScNQv1XjoVc96iPKlu3Jy2tDNhN_t5FvaZuT7kHSBtsVfn_JUoq12hzN9YSkiRA-xYk/s1600/IMAG0427.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyhHKn5to4r0u-SeqIStVi0Ha5G26xtbGoa1zn1WWGdTmOY4wQ08GA6daj2n5ZCFIc3qR0NI2ScNQv1XjoVc96iPKlu3Jy2tDNhN_t5FvaZuT7kHSBtsVfn_JUoq12hzN9YSkiRA-xYk/s320/IMAG0427.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After a 16 mile bike ride he arrived back to dismount and change shoes. <br />
Thus beginning the end. <br />
Many of you know that Everette is a pretty decent swimmer. The dude looks like he would sink to the bottom, but he has some serious power in the water. Like he currently holds the backstroke record at Harrison High School. So we weren't too worried about the 500 M swim. <br />
And since Everette had repeatedly trained 25+ miles on his bike, we were pretty certain he could accomplish that portion. <br />
This left the running. There is something about the way God designed Everette's body that is contrary to running. When Everette starts running, his body kicks on his internal furnace full blast. The dude, get's hot. More than once he started out on a run, and only made it a few miles because, is body just crapped out, and he stopped sweating and overheated and occasionally puked. <br />
And while he managed to accomplish the distance required during training, his time was slow, and environmental factors were extremely influential.<br />
So this was the nail-biting portion. <br />
<br />
We (my family and I) positioned ourselves near the finish line to wait. <br />
Knowing Everette ran about a 9 and half minute mile I rounded to 10 and did some mental calculations (not my forte). I watched and I waited. I was pretty confident Everette would be ok, because he trained well, and it was a pretty cool day. Low to mid 70's. Not like the 105 heat index he trained in. <br />
But still, I had images of him lying in some bushes passed out awaiting medical attention. <br />
But right on time I saw his bearded face, round the corner. He made it.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCddpO2DJeNPA6UO8RAGCQEGD87v2cgtQ3trmg8vrST-PTFZOug9bvawxgz5KsDdggY4QFDR0ArXP2vDZ984XkJ-6iQ4MaJP5Tlg1u7j9TqpyKozWgn-_2os49TBoSTu4J5531c7WI9sE/s1600/IMAG0428.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCddpO2DJeNPA6UO8RAGCQEGD87v2cgtQ3trmg8vrST-PTFZOug9bvawxgz5KsDdggY4QFDR0ArXP2vDZ984XkJ-6iQ4MaJP5Tlg1u7j9TqpyKozWgn-_2os49TBoSTu4J5531c7WI9sE/s320/IMAG0428.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is as good of a finish line shot as I was willing to risk. I didn't want to miss him crossing trying to take a picture. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
His official time was one hour forty-five minutes fifty-nine seconds. And he placed 147 out of 241. Not bad I say. Sixth out of 18 in his division. Mission accomplished. <br />
And what is more, he looked and felt good. I mean, I saw some people cross the finish line, and they did NOT look good. Not at all. Not even one little bit. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJqpxIZMhyphenhyphen0wQPoK_NxMkzzX2XRlw15XeLhknwTMICzB9TPT9ubS5qVMoW_H4hIu_Yhl7IPT_om7zsMhqaalYrayTn8yIwejJ7CzyROBOLQdhpVOaKfWtM4F2UTVzvRZAfkejjO-zwio/s1600/IMAG0429.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJqpxIZMhyphenhyphen0wQPoK_NxMkzzX2XRlw15XeLhknwTMICzB9TPT9ubS5qVMoW_H4hIu_Yhl7IPT_om7zsMhqaalYrayTn8yIwejJ7CzyROBOLQdhpVOaKfWtM4F2UTVzvRZAfkejjO-zwio/s320/IMAG0429.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everette post-race. Still standing!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To show him just how proud I was, I gave him a full body contact hug, even though I didn't have a change of clothes. And I didn't even mind. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIRWef5hipJH2pf6pSqZ_y44h__A6vYmVEMY_x4VZwP_AGX4Ze3T5zu-mqH7FzHaq57BhlI8w0NtcrGuADT-L76_hZ02s-Z_FdjS_eo_bi0LO_CBkl0exvOHO9PNdgVXKHWiK76eE77Q/s1600/IMAG0430.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIRWef5hipJH2pf6pSqZ_y44h__A6vYmVEMY_x4VZwP_AGX4Ze3T5zu-mqH7FzHaq57BhlI8w0NtcrGuADT-L76_hZ02s-Z_FdjS_eo_bi0LO_CBkl0exvOHO9PNdgVXKHWiK76eE77Q/s320/IMAG0430.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everette trudging back to the parking lot to load up all the crap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Just to show you really how good he was feeling, after a nap, we packed up the camper, headed home, unloaded the camper, and Sunday we took our bikes to Prophetstown for a bike ride and a picnic.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-43520917290550897542011-04-24T12:27:00.000-04:002011-04-24T12:27:44.378-04:00Breaking the SilenceI know, I know.<br />
And you are going to hate me even more when your realize I have no real content.<br />
So today is Easter.<br />
I took Jonathan home after church so he could nap and found myself on the Internet with a few moments to spare.<br />
I came across this video.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8KX2-J6uS-o" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
The moment I started watching, my eyes started rolling and my uncool radar was going off the charts.<br />
That was twenty minutes ago, and I have watched it four times and every time I watch it I cry harder and sooner. And when I am done writing this, I am going to watch it again.<br />
<br />
Yes, the voice-over is melodramatic, and the lady dancing with the scarf is cliche. Yes you could tell exactly what was going to happen the moment you click play. Yes, it is obvious the people in the background are going to suddenly "spontaneously" start dancing, in their bright multi-colored, yet still random looking shirts.<br />
Yes, everyone thinks flash mobs are cool, and it was only a matter of time until Christians got their claws into it. I like to think I am cooler than other Christians. I like to keep it below the radar. I don't wear oversized t-shirts with giant praying hands on them. And I tend to think people who do are, well, annoying.<br />
So the moment I started watching the video and heard the cheesy christian techno. I groaned inwardly, and watched with my eyes poised to roll and deep patronizing sighs ready. But then, as I watched the awkward and non-uniform choreography something happened. I started seeing the faces of the people dancing. It was different. It was sincere, and there was great joy. Then I began to see the diversity in the crowd, not just racially, but in age, and personality. But they were all united, under One Name. I could see people I knew (not literally) but people I could identify with. And I began to see, just maybe, just maybe what heaven will be like. When we dance, all of us. Those with rhythm, those without, the young, the old. All of us, together. And then I started crying. Especially when I saw the old lady and the old man dancing. Maybe because it's Easter, or maybe not.<br />
So hopefully, you can enjoy it, without all the criticism, but if you're like me, try to get past the first minute and a half, and see if you can't just get past your cynicism.<br />
<br />
2 Corinthians 5:13<br />
"If it seems we are crazy, it is to bring glory to God. And if we are in our right minds, it is for your benefit."Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-86159780711494969652011-03-10T23:28:00.000-05:002011-03-10T23:28:05.248-05:00Rendered UselessTuesday Jonathan had a severe hand injury. So severe it rendered his entire arm useless. <br />
There were tears. There was blood. It was gory. <br />
It all started when I sent Jonathan upstairs to get his shoes on. I know what was I thinking right?<br />
After several moments of waiting, I ventured upstairs to check on him. <br />
I found him, dinking around in his room. When I walked in, he looked at me and tears welled up in his eyes. <br />
"Mommy, I hurrrrted my fingerrrr" (Jonathan is really getting into his 'r's lately)<br />
<br />
"Jonathan, what happened?"<br />
Leaning over to pick up a book on the floor, he looked at me and said, "the book hurrted me, the book hurrrted my fingerrrr."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://csfunguy.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/chickens-to-the-rescue.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://csfunguy.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/chickens-to-the-rescue.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the offending book.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Taking his wound in my hand, I assessed the situation. It was indeed a paper cut. There was indeed blood. The cut was right in the crease of the thumb join, and it was deep, I mean I could see sinews (ok, maybe not, since I don't actually know what sinews look like, and it really wasn't that deep, but people always say they could see the sinews, in a really bad injury).<br />
<br />
Like any good mother, I took him to the bathroom to clean the wound. <br />
After cleaning the cut, I realized it was still bleeding, requiring a band-aid. <br />
Again, being the super-spectacular amazing mother that I am I was prepared. I had Curious George Band-Aids.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.buyitsellit.com/1563730.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://images.buyitsellit.com/1563730.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><br />
Jonathan was uhhh... rather resistant to the band-aid. But since I am the mother of a three-year-old I am becoming quite skilled in the art of calf-tying.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1294/848429879_9e75249700.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1294/848429879_9e75249700.jpg?v=0" width="320" /></a></div><br />
So I was able to pin him down and strap on the band-aid. <br />
Then something amazing happened. The moment Curious George wrapped his cute little monkey face<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.buyitsellit.com/1563731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.buyitsellit.com/1563731.jpg" /></a></div><br />
around my son's injured thumb, his entire hand became useless.<br />
<br />
His thumb was straight out perpendicular to the rest of his hand. His fully functioning four other fingers were wrapped in an imaginary splint, unbending. <br />
His wrist was instantly immobilized. <br />
Suddenly, Jonathan could not bend his elbow to put his sleeve through his jacket. And let's not even discuss what happened when his thumb reached the elastic wrist on the jacket sleeve. Have you ever seen terror in a child's eyes? Think Blair Witch project people (I shouldn't say that, because I have never really seen that movie).<br />
<br />
He could no longer hold things in his hand, or even brace himself on the potty (this is especially dangerous). <br />
<br />
And of course once his doting parents realized his plight, we began to tease him mercilessly. Handing him things he asked for in front of the injured hand. <br />
To which Jonathan would cry out, "NO Daddy, my haAAND!!" "My hand is hurrted!"<br />
Everette relentlessly tried to hold his hand, the rigid rigor mortis like hand. When Everette grasped his hand, Jonathan, gingerly, yet persistently slid Everette's thumb over so that there was a clear space for Jonathan's protruding thumb to poke through.<br />
This paralysis lasted for two full days (minus the times he was so engrossed in what he was doing, he plumb forgot), until the wound at last was healed enough to remove the band-aid. And life has returned to normal. Whatever that means.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-51690588782941887732011-02-22T00:57:00.001-05:002011-02-22T01:00:40.953-05:00My apologiesMy sincerest apologies to those of you living in the greater Lafayette area.<br />
This recent disgusting weather we are having, my fault.<br />
I seriously contemplated putting our winter coats away for the season.<br />
My bad.<br />
Isn't that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murphy%27s_law">Murphy's law</a> or something? or something...<br />
Lets all be thankful I didn't actually put them away.<br />
And by the way, as a peace offering, I leave you with this....<br />
<br />
<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lSA-1tZZTPM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-10691217527011739522011-02-18T23:16:00.000-05:002011-02-18T23:16:00.232-05:00A Taste of SpringI was not anxious for warm weather. If we had to spend all of February snuggled up warm and cozy inside, while outside the world was under a blanket of snow, I would be delighted.<br />
It isn't until I get a taste of spring that I start hungering for more.<br />
Sunday... was tasty.<br />
In fact, it was delicious. It was sunny and warm and glorious.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWg2eq9ua2-QbPwKhMElc5SwaKMgvT57-VzKw3A7HJ7is2ZCaK7vtHMqKoZ5DXOFBA-pWOC6CUODHxSg3eAbIgTjnmbT1yu9h-_sptAaycQvgmvvQICSqvHBJ7dyK7fs_fnUiGfszCr4/s1600/30578572153_ORIG.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWg2eq9ua2-QbPwKhMElc5SwaKMgvT57-VzKw3A7HJ7is2ZCaK7vtHMqKoZ5DXOFBA-pWOC6CUODHxSg3eAbIgTjnmbT1yu9h-_sptAaycQvgmvvQICSqvHBJ7dyK7fs_fnUiGfszCr4/s320/30578572153_ORIG.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJ3pZzXioZgiRCmcUbAGs-LE-HuKnG_clWtzIErQCzxoUB7YcWPNpH65Mn8lb-51SGU4v-JOnxnwmGCrf79EnB5Phd0YmBzRFw76raQ17gvoo4szTVnG7FbG2a_1p9FRZJ1HRFFMnxNY/s1600/370053680773.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
So glorious, that the Mills clan decided to head out for a walk.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzxVLcSMc97dg9JqX_ZvdT9W2q1EG_kvwUGN0MA9_Ji3rYgDWawIXwZjC4urloqQWm2LblEYbqG0h1aSDXUAARToThF5Y4KZbY9lWbbMVgisygeyIKWNL1xiYS9J3DbBy6XZ8nifn77A/s1600/370054054021.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzxVLcSMc97dg9JqX_ZvdT9W2q1EG_kvwUGN0MA9_Ji3rYgDWawIXwZjC4urloqQWm2LblEYbqG0h1aSDXUAARToThF5Y4KZbY9lWbbMVgisygeyIKWNL1xiYS9J3DbBy6XZ8nifn77A/s320/370054054021.jpeg" width="320" /></a> <br />
In only our <i>jackets</i>. Our jackets people.okay okay maybe our mittens too.<br />
It was fantastic.<br />
Spring was in the air, and it made me want more.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPy_TsqTr1C3khR0hWmyeZmFnQhC5_0Y2MWRsUeygeCCCaOPtQox_jHGZ6B1fh1FewumNsyCia-SUxxkWSQA6usvkSUz_FCHtqfCNVRRk5evD9_e54S7-643z2akznobzFJ4o1jE_2lc8/s1600/370054015365.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPy_TsqTr1C3khR0hWmyeZmFnQhC5_0Y2MWRsUeygeCCCaOPtQox_jHGZ6B1fh1FewumNsyCia-SUxxkWSQA6usvkSUz_FCHtqfCNVRRk5evD9_e54S7-643z2akznobzFJ4o1jE_2lc8/s320/370054015365.jpeg" width="320" /></a><br />
Except I live in Indiana and the last great ice storm came in March. So I can't get my hopes up.<br />
But we had a great time on Sunday... and I took pictures...<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxGb2zinmBQdk4eKXkcYeXLeQLVsOGwhFS22eOZX-LX0VHq1jQYP0fbo-7kGPTL0kDAeJGCO6C0LkSTyYU-7m61WeX0_P3xxqpl4Y9fWgPYF2gLu5WudnwWNfuqjotqkJufjJuXJJPZc/s1600/370053770629.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxGb2zinmBQdk4eKXkcYeXLeQLVsOGwhFS22eOZX-LX0VHq1jQYP0fbo-7kGPTL0kDAeJGCO6C0LkSTyYU-7m61WeX0_P3xxqpl4Y9fWgPYF2gLu5WudnwWNfuqjotqkJufjJuXJJPZc/s320/370053770629.jpeg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcb3_pKYExZsjHy21KQcJZkjdWpZDyXRCYEqfye6iyjmASSd9f9I2sj28Z7IvugpR0Em7kI2NLPkMJyfFIU3daOi38NCtcHpCFzj7jj6pMPGap2EHsnK4Fo8cHQ_Fo_RPErrSBy2Wvul8/s1600/370053954565.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcb3_pKYExZsjHy21KQcJZkjdWpZDyXRCYEqfye6iyjmASSd9f9I2sj28Z7IvugpR0Em7kI2NLPkMJyfFIU3daOi38NCtcHpCFzj7jj6pMPGap2EHsnK4Fo8cHQ_Fo_RPErrSBy2Wvul8/s320/370053954565.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-53480892653859998152011-02-17T22:36:00.000-05:002011-02-17T22:36:51.082-05:00Copy CatEverette has a blog, did you know that? A lot of the time, it is full of techno jargon, and nerdy stuff. Because Everette, is a big nerd. Don't worry, he knows that. That is what I love about him.<br />
Anyway, he posted something recently and it is super duper cute, and about Jonathan so I am just going to <a href="http://elmills.net/">send you over there to read it.</a>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-89739446840555775592011-02-16T21:59:00.001-05:002011-02-16T21:59:00.321-05:00Lost in TranslationIt all started with my mother (I am really starting to like saying that).<br />
I have been translating for people all my life.<br />
In fact I spend a great deal of my time translating for people.<br />
Growing up, my mom in conversations with other people, tended to leave large details out of her conversations. Frequently, when I was around, I would step in, summarize what she was saying and explain it to the person on the otherside of the conversation with the extremely confused look on his face.<br />
<br />
Sometimes when I am standing next to Everette, I hear him say something... odd. Then I feel the need to jump in and translate.<br />
<br />
I cannot even begin to count how often I translate for Jonathan.<br />
<br />
Recently, I was sitting at the table eating lunch with Jonathan. He was eating a turkey sandwich and peeled apple slices. He picked up an apple that was brown and spotty and said "desssskunk"<br />
I asked him to repeat.<br />
"deskunn" he said emphatically holding the apple.<br />
<br />
<br />
Admittedly I was stumped.<br />
<br />
"deskunn"<br />
the skunk"? I asked.<br />
<br />
No "desskunn"<br />
"disgusting"? I asked...<br />
"yeah"<br />
"uhhh ok"<br />
<br />
We continue munching our turkey and non-"deskunn" apples.<br />
He picks up the same apple slice and says with great emphasis..."DesKUNNN"<br />
I stare blankly until it dawns on me...<br />
the "SKIN"!!!!<br />
The apple skin! Jonathan is "deathly allergic" to apple skins. even the sight of an apple skin get's his gag reflex going. The boy cannot stand the sight of an apple skin.<br />
<br />
<br />
Deskunn<br />
The skin<br />
<br />
Mystery solved.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-80188217701718781432011-02-15T20:55:00.001-05:002011-02-17T23:22:21.620-05:00For your listening earsWe interrupt your normally scheduled brainless dribble for a music break.<br />
More and more, I am less impressed with artists as a whole. I am uninclined to actually buy an album that I love from the first song to the last. I am more pick and choosey.<br />
Although... I still love anything Avett Brothers<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aE7rkSELM3I" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
This cafeteria style especially applies to Christian music... <br />
But here are a few I am loving recently...<br />
<br />
Christ is Risen-Matt Mahar<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/N-EzVteRq1k" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
This song was inspired from <a href="http://orthodoxwiki.org/Paschal_Homily">this homily</a> by John Chrysostom, it might be familiar to some of you. <br />
<br />
<br />
I am New-Jason Gray<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-w6YG2NZguc" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
I do not know this guy, but I am digging this song...sorry for the advertisement at the beginning, barf.<br />
<br />
<br />
Children of God-Third<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/IEzpkbC1TyM" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
It has been awhile since Third Day did anything I was REALLY excited about, but those kids at the end, are adorable... I am trying to figure out a way to do this at church. <br />
<br />
Glorious Day-Casting Crowns<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xODpgyqGCYM" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
I have mixed feelings about this song... I love the lyrics, but it is a little "moody radio" if you know what I mean. <br />
<br />
What Love Really Means-JJ Heller<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PgGUKWiw7Wk" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
ok so the first time I heard this song was early in the morning when I was getting ready for church, and I cried like a baby, then made Everette listen to it later that day.<br />
I might actually say that I like her. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlL8LayF0uw">This was her first single</a>, and I loved it, we'll see how the rest goes.<br />
<br />
No need to thank me, just doing my part.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-34145713037421327672011-02-10T23:44:00.001-05:002011-02-11T09:21:31.605-05:00My Pastor the SuperheroThis is my pastor.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi985LmwcOJPOKobboOOXNBPEJAtK1VbJKqrC5n0duUu04Vjsyvyz1sVW-nq9f1gJajQUX1Rt1b6HVqESwRnoJElS1NNVlMyR_JRXPzS8_yPUg_MNIGmbNIExm11xMzv0U0SqRQsmlRytw/s1600/DSC_6714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi985LmwcOJPOKobboOOXNBPEJAtK1VbJKqrC5n0duUu04Vjsyvyz1sVW-nq9f1gJajQUX1Rt1b6HVqESwRnoJElS1NNVlMyR_JRXPzS8_yPUg_MNIGmbNIExm11xMzv0U0SqRQsmlRytw/s320/DSC_6714.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Dan S. Te<span id="goog_135955867"></span><span id="goog_135955868"></span>efy (the "S" stands for Smokin' in case you were wondering...)<br />
<br />
Please ignore the slightly cheesy smile. He is cursed with a generally cheery disposition, and he just can't help himself.<br />
<br />
You might think I am being silly or exaggerating, but he really is a superhero. He has real super powers.<br />
<br />
For one he can fly....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QU26qRTE5DHPO-VPD_BLTM8R8Rh7BEhADg9CFqjMZOfr1pbKMGvxJvF0p-EE8890eOoQ24t4MTAvtQkWMePvyvd3zkWS7VBd2riGtnEdxcMzT3EOBY8g35uLId3n61pEKDs_IvUVlC8/s1600/dteefey1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QU26qRTE5DHPO-VPD_BLTM8R8Rh7BEhADg9CFqjMZOfr1pbKMGvxJvF0p-EE8890eOoQ24t4MTAvtQkWMePvyvd3zkWS7VBd2riGtnEdxcMzT3EOBY8g35uLId3n61pEKDs_IvUVlC8/s320/dteefey1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwk1pbiD3gPmxgLL2YThcOsGyrtAG-Oku6-dfmkM9fbCaTbzF6zml9wzM63PaQlkJDH17iB0n6_wHm8LBlLje_A0YiuOGCeYoeV4PZCT05nfagD0QKsdrNOwGp0LIPil1m_4cYNLPP9CQ/s1600/dteefey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
<br />
For two (yes, I really said "for two")<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2gnMMNaWtN7ngXfy-pTpLHNveroBJgMAJspxkoAMmKREp4_EsPvxbeKWSVBGzaZVYyJQNFBAoPjEo6lj9yA0xYPkOwzPVBJKm5uo2FQBPH8LoUdFKVQEg0hTQ10AUw1FFnO09aFlqik/s1600/dteefey4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2gnMMNaWtN7ngXfy-pTpLHNveroBJgMAJspxkoAMmKREp4_EsPvxbeKWSVBGzaZVYyJQNFBAoPjEo6lj9yA0xYPkOwzPVBJKm5uo2FQBPH8LoUdFKVQEg0hTQ10AUw1FFnO09aFlqik/s320/dteefey4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>He drank from the fountain of youth, and while he appears to be in his early thirties he is really 65, a nice respectable age for a pastor. Alright, he <i>is</i> in his early thirties, but he definitely has the wisdom of a 65 year-old.<br />
<br />
For threes (now I am pluralizing, you might want to sit down),<br />
He has an indestructible immune system (his words, not mine).<br />
<br />
For fours, He is a super dad.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfA3wDiwxxJlynATHQa9ZSEt7biYjj-e_SQoVmHZlDyiqy0uPpYeb4Lm8ilXVH0Vo_ONsNxHOxyPcVm-EmKRrsEO_xe0h2cnBk96vFTwVsIVzE5YTQMrX-2vvZFVEq2PhmZ-fcsFwypU/s1600/dteefey3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfA3wDiwxxJlynATHQa9ZSEt7biYjj-e_SQoVmHZlDyiqy0uPpYeb4Lm8ilXVH0Vo_ONsNxHOxyPcVm-EmKRrsEO_xe0h2cnBk96vFTwVsIVzE5YTQMrX-2vvZFVEq2PhmZ-fcsFwypU/s320/dteefey3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
His girls are 8 parts adorable, and 12 parts crazy adorable.<br />
And they have super powers too. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKp97YA9ydWT2nSfNgbHuTTerBHOnWUj7BmE2QuRKH0MhRvAnZjI6MzECsP7_Tpb-WhnoDaVQJES7w6srJ6D1_5PV0A-pc93eLrxOiJWuPRRVj2MOguM_sgmlQ7EY_uSRgk1KkWZqP38/s1600/ateefey1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKp97YA9ydWT2nSfNgbHuTTerBHOnWUj7BmE2QuRKH0MhRvAnZjI6MzECsP7_Tpb-WhnoDaVQJES7w6srJ6D1_5PV0A-pc93eLrxOiJWuPRRVj2MOguM_sgmlQ7EY_uSRgk1KkWZqP38/s320/ateefey1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-ogyzkpk7tpzdPMrGxtF1EF2p1DdCusR_lQiGBSVCYN5ot_5SkGidh769HrsvyUXsc-2TPawSkk6W5572e5Yxou_hnqcm2TEbu0N08u78Lhkd10TppfllV-Ve8uIin5mHwejnRlpFks/s1600/mteefey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-ogyzkpk7tpzdPMrGxtF1EF2p1DdCusR_lQiGBSVCYN5ot_5SkGidh769HrsvyUXsc-2TPawSkk6W5572e5Yxou_hnqcm2TEbu0N08u78Lhkd10TppfllV-Ve8uIin5mHwejnRlpFks/s320/mteefey.jpg" width="286" /></a></div><br />
<br />
For Fives<br />
He married <a href="http://capesforacause.com/">Wonderwoman</a> (who happens to be quite possibly the very best friend I have ever had in my entire life--sisterS excluded of course).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHd0fkdekcxTWb6pO6raK8QczNsusUMZy8-GNrEcspElAnC1q1wkP4f1V7mifPFDRoxMljRaAp4_3umL5Dgk58w6GgsUi794d2i3WPXo-ZYdrQK1NQnJTjXes6AsIdV-IKTacpgBerjE/s1600/drteefey1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHd0fkdekcxTWb6pO6raK8QczNsusUMZy8-GNrEcspElAnC1q1wkP4f1V7mifPFDRoxMljRaAp4_3umL5Dgk58w6GgsUi794d2i3WPXo-ZYdrQK1NQnJTjXes6AsIdV-IKTacpgBerjE/s320/drteefey1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
He will also freely admit that he used his super stealth power to stalk her (in the most UNcreepiest way) across the campus of Illinois University to woo her with his Super charm.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQNd0C_bu2leCJDYF5IP-wMfc59sEEi7cmT2mNLucLVF0Eo0ASPpbWq-xF_oyWQURLGTp5ch7ni-1lUCUCS9sZcUQSFs0Vm6kqQSGznbKyxkBvKc1Dvuli6_HMVHV8a1fPQ_Z_fnnZCI/s1600/drteefey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQNd0C_bu2leCJDYF5IP-wMfc59sEEi7cmT2mNLucLVF0Eo0ASPpbWq-xF_oyWQURLGTp5ch7ni-1lUCUCS9sZcUQSFs0Vm6kqQSGznbKyxkBvKc1Dvuli6_HMVHV8a1fPQ_Z_fnnZCI/s320/drteefey2.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is their actual wedding photo. How do do you resist a man dressed like that.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
For Sixes <br />
And I think this is probably the most important. He will do your personal shopping for you.<br />
<br />
SuperDan was in Chicago for a superhero convention, under the guise of our Denomination's Midwinter Conference. He will tell you they talked about church politics but I know they were practicing burning things with their laser beam eyes and bending steel with their super strength.<br />
Anyway below is an email Wonderwoman sent out to fifty of her closest friends last week while SuperDan was away.<br />
<i></i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> Hey ladies.</i><br />
<i> My husband is going to <span class="il">ikea</span> tomorrow around 1pm. If there is anything (within reasonable size) that you would like him to pick up for you call him @ xxx-xxx-xxxx (</i>did you really think I would give out the personal cell phone number of a real honest to goodness superhero?)<br />
<br />
Sooo. She offered, and I called. I left Dan a message that sounded something like this...<br />
<i>Hello, you have reached the voiceBOX of Dan Tee.fey....</i><br />
<i> </i> <br />
"Heeeyy Dan, I don't know if you know this, but your wife sent out an email offering your personal shopping services. uhh.. If you're cool with that, there is something I want from IKEA. But it isn't a big deal and don't spend a ton of time looking for it. blah blah blah." <i>(any of you who have ever received a phone message from me knows it definitely did NOT sound like that, because I sound like a babbling idiot on people's voiceboxes. And when I say "babbling idiot", I mean I sound <a href="http://jemtrulyoutrageous.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-mother-has-hex-on-her.html">just like my mom</a>. Seriously, I have left messages for family members that began with..."Hi, it's Megan, sooo this is going to be a Susan message, so I am really sorry, but, blah blah blah." Sorry mom, you know I love you! And just as an aside, aside for anyone who might be concerned that I just called my mom a babbling idiot, I will bet you five million dollars that when she reads this part she will laugh so hard that she cries and falls out of her chair, and she will then go on to read it to every single person she knows. My mom has been known to read my blog to strangers at parties.)</i><br />
<br />
So anyway, back to SuperDan. Like any great superhero he rose to the occasion, because he loves a challenge, and he loves people. He is cool like that. And also for the record, he had no idea that Wonderwoman even sent that email out. Of course the one item I wanted was impossible to find, that even his x-ray vision was useless. He scoured and he searched for hours, he descended into the bowels of IKEA just for me (I am sure there is a sermon analogy in there somewhere). He went into the bowels of IKEA, and returned victorious! He drove home through treacherous road conditions (last week was <a href="http://jemtrulyoutrageous.blogspot.com/2011/02/surviving-snowmageddon.html">Snowpacalypse</a>, remember) to deliver, safely, my six white ceramic pots. I told you, it was really important.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwk1pbiD3gPmxgLL2YThcOsGyrtAG-Oku6-dfmkM9fbCaTbzF6zml9wzM63PaQlkJDH17iB0n6_wHm8LBlLje_A0YiuOGCeYoeV4PZCT05nfagD0QKsdrNOwGp0LIPil1m_4cYNLPP9CQ/s1600/dteefey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwk1pbiD3gPmxgLL2YThcOsGyrtAG-Oku6-dfmkM9fbCaTbzF6zml9wzM63PaQlkJDH17iB0n6_wHm8LBlLje_A0YiuOGCeYoeV4PZCT05nfagD0QKsdrNOwGp0LIPil1m_4cYNLPP9CQ/s320/dteefey2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
So Thank you SuperDan. For everything. Everything you do, everything you are. And for trading in your superhero cape to lead our church with humility, and wisdom, and compassion. And mostly dragging your wife's sorry butt all the way over here to Indiana, so we could stay out late and eat pie!Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-72756265488561227482011-02-04T22:21:00.001-05:002011-02-04T22:21:00.126-05:00A worthwhile thoughtEvery once in a while I come across something, I feel is worth repeating.. And since I have this blog, I am repeating it here. And since you were foolish enough to click on the link, you have to read it.<br />
<br />
This is from a Bible Study I am currently in....<br />
<br />
<br />
"...true conviction doesn't look for loopholes, and it isn't sad. Of course, we may feel grief when parting with something we enjoy, but if true conviction is present we will begin to look at that thing as something that was taking the place of God, something that was stealing from us. As we rid it from our lives we will be hopeful with anticipation, anxious to see what God will do in this newly-created space. We will not look for loopholes. We will be resolved. We will know that we are in a position to gain, not to be stolen from any longer."<br />
-Kelly Minter<br />
<i>No Other Gods</i><br />
<br />
Something to think about.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-26028595174197040522011-02-03T21:05:00.000-05:002011-02-03T21:05:01.341-05:00Surviving SnowmageddonIt is 8:30 PM and Everette is on the phone still working. A rarity even for him.<br />
Jonathan is in bed, and dinner is cleaned up....mostly.<br />
So I thought I would leave you a few tips on how to survive the BLIZZARD OF THE CENTURY: a.k.a SNOWMAGEDDON a.k.a. SNOWPACALYPSE<br />
<br />
1. Go to the store and buy every egg carton on the shelf, 10 gallons of milk, and 12 pkgs of Double Suff Oreo Cookies (to go with the milk).<br />
<br />
2. Check the weather for updates every 3 minutes.<br />
<br />
3. Check the real time weather updates (i.e. look out the window).<br />
<br />
4. Prance around your house yelling, "the blizzard is coming! the blizzard is coming!"<br />
<br />
5. Realize it is possible that the power might go out. Check to make sure outward facial expressions reflect the solemnity of the situation. Squeal with delight, inwardly. The power <i>might</i> go out!<br />
<br />
6. Begin to frantically do laundry in case the power goes out.<br />
<br />
7. Strip your bed to wash your sheets, the pray that the power <i>doesn't</i> go out... until your sheets are dry and back on your bed.<br />
<br />
8. Begin to fill jugs of water, because the <i>power MIGHT</i> go out!<br />
<br />
9. Bathe yourself and your entire family, because the power might <i>go out!</i><br />
<br />
10. Sit and listen to the sleet pelt your window.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>11. </i>Peer out your window every 5 minutes to check if the snow fall has reached catastrophic levels,and wonder when the power is going to go out.<br />
<br />
12. Slump your shoulders in disappointment because it NEVER reaches catastrophic levels.<br />
<br />
13. Remember that you live in Indiana and snow storms are NEVER as bad as predicted.<br />
<br />
14. Sigh. blow out your candle (that you lit, <i>in case the power went out</i>) and slink off to bed in your warm toasty fully powered house, because you know you have to shovel your driveway tomorrow.<br />
<br />
15. Head outside the next morning to assess the situation... quickly realize you are standing on TOP of 4 inches of sleet and snow. on TOP of it people. It was like walking on a snow cone.<br />
<br />
16. Put your shovel down to make that first cut across your driveway.<br />
<br />
17. Fall on your butt because you completely underestimated the fact that the sneet (snow and sleet, people) is glued to your driveway, and it weighed 12 tons.<br />
<br />
18. Go whine to your husband, who doesn't get a snow day because he works from home, that your back hurts and you can't shovel the driveway because it's too hard.<br />
<br />
19. Sit inside all warm and cozy (because the power <i>didn't</i> go out) while your husband breaks up the sneet with a jackhammer and crowbar.<br />
<br />
20. Feel guilty because he has a bad back too, and go out and help.<br />
<br />
21. Regret not putting on a sports bra, because this is some serious cardio.<br />
<br />
22. Feel triumphant because you and your husband with two snow shovels and a snub nosed regular shovel shoveled out your much longer driveway before your neighbor (who even started before you) did with his fancy pants snow blower.<br />
<br />
23. Go back inside, drink 12 cups of hot chocolate (and 2 packages of Oreo cookies) and never leave the house for the next 3 days, it is Snowmageddon after all.<br />
<br />
24. Open the fridge and wonder what in the crap you are going to do with all those eggs.<br />
<br />
25. Go to the store because you are out of milk, and oreos.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6524646823935816955.post-57120932170451304452011-01-27T15:53:00.000-05:002011-01-27T15:53:23.553-05:00<span style="font-size: large;">This</span>.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPulpPGb5Tmi1FLfpZTvVEoXz9o5uHAwuNSP5i0C0xQV6M_BFNh9GxZDfh4Uz-RsUHQ8bQ0BS-3c7WznfKxfChQXvT9_se5tgdblM7addeSIQkHg7NYXJ7uYv8Gsc6PkJhqVylD43wkDU/s1600/ddmw1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPulpPGb5Tmi1FLfpZTvVEoXz9o5uHAwuNSP5i0C0xQV6M_BFNh9GxZDfh4Uz-RsUHQ8bQ0BS-3c7WznfKxfChQXvT9_se5tgdblM7addeSIQkHg7NYXJ7uYv8Gsc6PkJhqVylD43wkDU/s320/ddmw1.jpeg" width="240" /></a><br />
This is <span style="font-size: large;">Diet Dr Pepper Chocolate Milk Water</span>. It is the newest hottest trend in America's quest for hydration.<br />
<br />
It's delicious... sort of...<br />
You might think, wow that's a weird combo. How do you get <span style="font-size: large;">Diet Dr Pepper Chocolate Milk Water</span>?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DVvD3JFWIh4eR3fQkq9A_eVPkunwpD8Hvn5088PS4NUmsaGXHr-oYzpysGqgIHUZTJdzQmUBqlNnF1yPHJBmwsnT0N73SXI1XtlnfU1SBgByCvqDTCiL8tF_vtX3mLlPmF9u_KqaPaA/s1600/ddmw+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DVvD3JFWIh4eR3fQkq9A_eVPkunwpD8Hvn5088PS4NUmsaGXHr-oYzpysGqgIHUZTJdzQmUBqlNnF1yPHJBmwsnT0N73SXI1XtlnfU1SBgByCvqDTCiL8tF_vtX3mLlPmF9u_KqaPaA/s320/ddmw+2.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Easy.<br />
Allow me to explain.<br />
<br />
First, you give birth to a boy. You instill in this boy a love for all acceptable forms of liquid hydration. Then, you fill up his Nalgene bottle with chocolate milk (you do this, even though it is early in the morning, because you are trying to get out the door without the beginning of World War III, and you justify it because you are absolutely planning on stopping at Starbucks for a latte).<br />
Then, you take the boy on a road trip. To O'Hare to drop your brother-in-law off to board a plane bound for Spain (where he plans to be a world famous matador).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etftrends.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/photo_lg_spain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://www.etftrends.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/photo_lg_spain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Then you let your son watch "bideos" the whole way up. Then you turn directly around and head back to Lafayette. And you suddenly realize, that this is not really a short trip to Chicago, it is really an all day 6 hour journey.<br />
Then you let your son fall asleep in the car, which he does, and you are happy for one hour. Then you realize that you drank 700 ounces of Diet Dr Pepper and you have to pee. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.aerostar.com/JPEG_Current_photos/Dr-Pepper-&-DDr-Pepper_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.aerostar.com/JPEG_Current_photos/Dr-Pepper-&-DDr-Pepper_sm.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So you try to stop gradually hoping he will stay asleep... No luck.<br />
<br />
It is 15 minutes later when you realize that you must have left your son back at the gas station, and instead strapped a screeching howler monkey into his seat, you cry a little inside.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://cache1.asset-cache.net/xc/6591-001235.jpg?v=1&c=IWSAsset&k=2&d=910C62E22B9F47AA1CEAC92BB76B5B1713DCAA0F8A1456B39F452D7B4B4DEE04E30A760B0D811297" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://cache1.asset-cache.net/xc/6591-001235.jpg?v=1&c=IWSAsset&k=2&d=910C62E22B9F47AA1CEAC92BB76B5B1713DCAA0F8A1456B39F452D7B4B4DEE04E30A760B0D811297" width="211" /></a></div><br />
You refuse to let him watch any more "DBDs" because you are really into self-torture and you have deluded yourself into thinking he will go back to sleep.<br />
He begins to scream for chocolate milk, which of course you don't have. So you offer water. He screams in protest.<br />
Because you are an awesome mother, you attempt to pour the bottle of water into your Diet Dr Pepper cup while driving so your beloved son can drink through a straw. He chucks it on the floor and you are right back where you started, except the delicious pellet ice in your cup is now melted.<br />
He then demands the water in his chocolate milk "cuppy". And because you are in bondage to your tyrannical screeching howler monkey you carefully remove the lid and bravely place the cup between your legs. And while drving 70+ mph on the Interstate you pour the Diet Dr Pepper water into the green nalgene bottle. At this moment, you realize that you probably would have been better off just peeing your pants because at least that would have been warm water in your crotch... and your howler monkey would still be asleep.<br />
Because you are human, and sometimes you need to feel vindicated, you put the lid back on the bottle, give it a good shake to completely mix in the residual chocolate milk sludge and hand it back to your monkey.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPulpPGb5Tmi1FLfpZTvVEoXz9o5uHAwuNSP5i0C0xQV6M_BFNh9GxZDfh4Uz-RsUHQ8bQ0BS-3c7WznfKxfChQXvT9_se5tgdblM7addeSIQkHg7NYXJ7uYv8Gsc6PkJhqVylD43wkDU/s1600/ddmw1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPulpPGb5Tmi1FLfpZTvVEoXz9o5uHAwuNSP5i0C0xQV6M_BFNh9GxZDfh4Uz-RsUHQ8bQ0BS-3c7WznfKxfChQXvT9_se5tgdblM7addeSIQkHg7NYXJ7uYv8Gsc6PkJhqVylD43wkDU/s320/ddmw1.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Waiting for him to take his first drink of the wretched concoction, smirking a little to yourself.<br />
But alas, he drinks it happily and remains silent for the remainder of the trick. You are one part disappointed, then you remember that this is the same kid to who dips his potato chips in applesauce and his apples in ketchup. So mostly you are grateful to have appeased the howler monkey. <br />
<br />
You get home, and it dawns on you that the combination must have created some strange chemical reaction, and the liquid turned into some sort of baby crack. So you decide to bottle it and make a million dollars so you can call up those silly "Baby Einstein" inventors and tell them that they can stick it! That you can take something incredibly dull and common and make a fortune from it too!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DVvD3JFWIh4eR3fQkq9A_eVPkunwpD8Hvn5088PS4NUmsaGXHr-oYzpysGqgIHUZTJdzQmUBqlNnF1yPHJBmwsnT0N73SXI1XtlnfU1SBgByCvqDTCiL8tF_vtX3mLlPmF9u_KqaPaA/s1600/ddmw+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DVvD3JFWIh4eR3fQkq9A_eVPkunwpD8Hvn5088PS4NUmsaGXHr-oYzpysGqgIHUZTJdzQmUBqlNnF1yPHJBmwsnT0N73SXI1XtlnfU1SBgByCvqDTCiL8tF_vtX3mLlPmF9u_KqaPaA/s320/ddmw+2.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
bottoms up everyone!Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15390597643211504122noreply@blogger.com1