tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92972102024-03-06T22:00:28.671-07:00The Second HalfA record of our lifeCarolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.comBlogger732125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-80617198796076628232012-02-12T19:05:00.007-07:002012-02-12T20:34:55.178-07:00two moves later<div><br /></div><div>Last post here, according to my dashboard, was March 27th, 2009. We have moved twice since then. To California and then to Minnesota. Sold a house, rented a town home, lived with my dad and finally bought a house. The kids have grown. Ben is 18, Harrison is 11 and Ella is 9. Basie is still a huge part of our life and is 4 and a half. Chris and I have switched jobs a few times, but are still in the same fields - I'm a middle school counselor and Chris is still in commercial construction. In fact, we have purchased my childhood home and live in a suburb of Minneapolis. </div><div><br /></div><div>I feel like I'm on the phone with an old friend who I haven't talked to in a long time and there is so much to say that that I don't know how or where to start...so I'll show pictures.</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2gcuIfHTs2xCf6HVk5lGgxqWNP35JSfdta8OQi15wfqWOGW0bC1oh0avbRVOgGTrhEnjmG7wKa0gFayLCRKSjf8f8x9UWa0zNJEkd65CtI0XuxUTpC4SNRLe1g7VuY_rQQc88Q/s1600/coach+dad.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2gcuIfHTs2xCf6HVk5lGgxqWNP35JSfdta8OQi15wfqWOGW0bC1oh0avbRVOgGTrhEnjmG7wKa0gFayLCRKSjf8f8x9UWa0zNJEkd65CtI0XuxUTpC4SNRLe1g7VuY_rQQc88Q/s400/coach+dad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708454838800047570" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Chris coaching Ella's soccer team <div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60X1ubwJswymy0egdGC6cqAXFHvQITE8yeRApCQ8iF7htrCKOInxtikIEfH0_3Gklt3JWs1Z08s_KLI7UUUaJYUMzncbJ9Fi2epfPiLHGUkKm0Kcw0y7E9mTIKm-Js_m-oSu7-w/s1600/ellaandharryxmas-2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60X1ubwJswymy0egdGC6cqAXFHvQITE8yeRApCQ8iF7htrCKOInxtikIEfH0_3Gklt3JWs1Z08s_KLI7UUUaJYUMzncbJ9Fi2epfPiLHGUkKm0Kcw0y7E9mTIKm-Js_m-oSu7-w/s400/ellaandharryxmas-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708450088284415026" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Christmas 2011<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgLJgftkKqPxyD46yg9-SIlzZcsqFE6eQzwMs3ITS3XX11yK0PJ160Z6ZDfwa6CDWqFoKpN3en2kLe8icgJnd9xjjU9oclf-TO-s_j4_s-qRVvdMM4WjjLBHZXvmg9x7QKutwmg/s1600/basie+bw+cu.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgLJgftkKqPxyD46yg9-SIlzZcsqFE6eQzwMs3ITS3XX11yK0PJ160Z6ZDfwa6CDWqFoKpN3en2kLe8icgJnd9xjjU9oclf-TO-s_j4_s-qRVvdMM4WjjLBHZXvmg9x7QKutwmg/s400/basie+bw+cu.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708443660480852642" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Basie finally has a fenced in yard</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bZWI02nNOeCbtCanL3R8HtBWPuUqqof6B2lqaH6JqSvDanhj9Luh9La8NBnh-0M4i_lvjfhjbF-o0lu3CCDcIHRv8SQJxIfrB2mEHd6F5vl7b_XRdbQ8tof9kVjJ_4ViA1LtJw/s1600/4675921356_3ee63d7403.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bZWI02nNOeCbtCanL3R8HtBWPuUqqof6B2lqaH6JqSvDanhj9Luh9La8NBnh-0M4i_lvjfhjbF-o0lu3CCDcIHRv8SQJxIfrB2mEHd6F5vl7b_XRdbQ8tof9kVjJ_4ViA1LtJw/s400/4675921356_3ee63d7403.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708435776453916082" /></a><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div></div></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-57005128271851819192009-03-27T09:05:00.002-07:002009-03-27T09:08:24.203-07:00She's "famous"I submitted a picture to <a href="http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/2009/03/fix-it-friday-8.html">I Heart Faces</a> for their "Fix-It Friday" series. I was surprised to see my beautiful Ella up on their site today! It is so fun to see how so many people edited the shot. Some of the criticism (of my photography skill) was a bit hard, but I need to take it constructively and learn. Right?!! Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-43129198587708780422009-02-23T22:10:00.001-07:002009-02-23T22:12:17.967-07:00how can so much go wrong in one day?I'm having one of those days which involves no liquor, but desperately NEEDS liquor. And it's only Monday. Pray for a short week.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-21039782040488530732009-02-18T12:03:00.003-07:002009-02-18T12:09:26.790-07:00I feel like I'm having an affair!I have been neglecting this site due to some extra energy trying to put together a photography portfolio. During this process, I have started another blog <a href="http://www.blacksalt.wordpress.com">www.blacksalt.wordpress.com</a><div><br /></div><div>Slowly, but surely, I'm getting closer to my goals.</div><div><br /></div><div>Other news - started a another job at an elementary school nearby. It only involves an hour a day, but they would also like me to sub. That might just be perfect. Until I make millions selling my "art" - I'll have to supplement! I am no longer going to be able to take the kids to school. This is a big change for all of us. Chris is being great and has taken over, but it's a tough job moving my two slowpokes out the door each morning. I'm so lucky to have his support during this "exploratory" phase of my life.</div><div><br /></div><div>This putting myself first stuff is hard!</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-19516045927112989042009-02-14T22:31:00.003-07:002009-02-14T22:37:32.808-07:00long weekend<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkvXCJRPOPHCUwPHbruewRVLPF-Sr8x3yL9nNLmUba6tVO4fmyitTcS2xUYe6Wm1oymo8jNL209_k6gs8U2TpkNFfnTky67KG3-e-7svg_mqRco_klIh8pc_HvUmX2yiSOKCiLQ/s1600-h/harryonEsshoulderw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkvXCJRPOPHCUwPHbruewRVLPF-Sr8x3yL9nNLmUba6tVO4fmyitTcS2xUYe6Wm1oymo8jNL209_k6gs8U2TpkNFfnTky67KG3-e-7svg_mqRco_klIh8pc_HvUmX2yiSOKCiLQ/s400/harryonEsshoulderw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302894068540414450" /></a><br />The kids had two half days to end their week, and then they are off on Monday and Tuesday. Luckily we've had playdates and birthday parties to fill in the gaps between playing make believe with their Webkinz and rockin' out to Guitar Hero (why did I think this was a good game for them???)<div><br /></div><div>I will be getting out of the house a bit more. I just got a second/third? job as a morning assistant/monitor to all the students who arrive at this private school before the school day begins. I'll just be out for an hour and 10 minutes, but it will bring in a couple of bucks. Also, they were so thrilled to interview someone with an educational background that they had me fill out the substitute teacher application. I could really get busy.</div><div><br /></div><div>As much as the large amounts of time indoors gets on all of our nerves, I just have to look at a photo like this one to remember how precious this time is.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-29277966705480061152009-02-13T19:36:00.004-07:002009-02-13T19:40:57.892-07:00Ellastyle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0t2Kx5_r1oAtEhh-J6cY4jzofU4l7lc-SJT6k2UBuxqpukpO0H9INab7Vdl29q1H79jwQKGC9U0GlM5jqQI3UB2gKBTsTNM3OFnP3oIApXU3iYZOgou8h86rHery6bsNlslVdlA/s1600-h/ellahair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0t2Kx5_r1oAtEhh-J6cY4jzofU4l7lc-SJT6k2UBuxqpukpO0H9INab7Vdl29q1H79jwQKGC9U0GlM5jqQI3UB2gKBTsTNM3OFnP3oIApXU3iYZOgou8h86rHery6bsNlslVdlA/s400/ellahair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302477287447080930" /></a><br />Ella got her haircut again. She tries to grow it out, but it gets so messy and unruly that we always agree that the pain and anguish she claims to experience while combing it isn't worth it. I took her to my stylist this time and it was worth it. Ella got her head massaged and everything!<div><br /></div><div>Here's a shot "in progress" and I have yet to take a good picture of her new do. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have started a new blog just for my photos. www.blacksalt.wordpress.com</div><div><br /></div><div>This business is all about baby steps.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-34365998574499702792009-02-03T11:13:00.003-07:002009-02-05T11:47:56.472-07:00I heart faces - adult<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrvTyTd-XGil6Idtlz1x6Jq_bgvXk-iHSOTt5NJi5X-SNKewFbnPxepcjx5C-Utoz8PeKZGY8ncBiWFlz38v21Jpxqkk2pK9WR2qzSMThMMiaBFH46bAJEcFhMTF6vpFW324NJg/s1600-h/eyesadult72.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrvTyTd-XGil6Idtlz1x6Jq_bgvXk-iHSOTt5NJi5X-SNKewFbnPxepcjx5C-Utoz8PeKZGY8ncBiWFlz38v21Jpxqkk2pK9WR2qzSMThMMiaBFH46bAJEcFhMTF6vpFW324NJg/s400/eyesadult72.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298636184575351314" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>My neighbors actually asked me to take their holiday family photo this year. I think they just wanted someone to push the button! :) This is a shot of one of the girls alone. Isn't her skin amazing? For more pictures of adults - click on the button below.</div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/smallbutton.jpg" /></a></center>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-4922348084349245382009-02-02T16:05:00.008-07:002009-02-05T11:49:10.452-07:00I Heart Faces - Pets<center><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/smallbutton.jpg" /></a></center><center><br /></center><center>My second attempt</center><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP28JAjAnTYg0ZR0WLBvKJv97vYP4YwlE39WzMDzXgg5amWG0d8QHe3Caw5jWC00R1O9HiIqJAm1g5fB2Z1cXEaecCZa4zfuTl49Po5aPpx1F8laIYhffRFJ8JkeyffXpwYK8YPA/s1600-h/basie+blog4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP28JAjAnTYg0ZR0WLBvKJv97vYP4YwlE39WzMDzXgg5amWG0d8QHe3Caw5jWC00R1O9HiIqJAm1g5fB2Z1cXEaecCZa4zfuTl49Po5aPpx1F8laIYhffRFJ8JkeyffXpwYK8YPA/s400/basie+blog4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298347436039551634" /></a>My attempt at funkiness (is that a word?) If you want to see more normal pet pics, click on the button at the top.<div><br /><br /></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-50015869478111719202009-02-02T14:37:00.005-07:002009-02-05T11:45:19.467-07:00Passion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xKnRZmPhLQXElvSrHeASXbzxIBdX0i3x7UqzRwl_vjfFXf8hA3ecmsPs6y9IxePQ907FJWjDJuo4qFQykqlJyH_TPDS_IsPqnEj7KI-jVo_CXrxj8CRvXzB1EMU7TKNnNNHHLQ/s1600-h/slyella2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xKnRZmPhLQXElvSrHeASXbzxIBdX0i3x7UqzRwl_vjfFXf8hA3ecmsPs6y9IxePQ907FJWjDJuo4qFQykqlJyH_TPDS_IsPqnEj7KI-jVo_CXrxj8CRvXzB1EMU7TKNnNNHHLQ/s400/slyella2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298334346549487634" /></a><br /><br />As long as I can remember, it's been common knowledge that money isn't that important in a career - loving what you do is. Baloney. I think they both are important, but it doesn't always work out that you can get both. I used to have a job that paid the bills and gave us great health insurance, but it became emotionally burdensome. Now that I'm working on something that I really love - starting my photography career - however, we are not getting my income and are paying more for less insurance. I fight back the urge to feel guilty daily. I know that if I was still working as a school counselor we wouldn't have as many financial worries, but I really can't remember being this excited about anything in a long time.<div><br /></div><div>I gave myself a daily schedule starting January 5th, the day the kids went back to school, and it involves learning as much about photography and Photoshop as I can. (It also includes time to walk the dog, of course!) So I now scour websites, follow tutorials, read books, take classes and have started acquiring some of the bare necessities needed to take and edit better photos. </div><div><br /></div><div>One of the things I'm pushing myself to do is enter photography contests. Today, I'm entering my first one. It's sponsored by a blog called "I Love Faces" and is very low key which is the way I like it! So here goes....the picture above is my entry into this week's contest that has the theme "The Eyes Have It - Kids". If you want to see more of the entries - click on the button below.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><center><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/smallbutton.jpg" /></a></center>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-87831235057633431212009-01-08T21:49:00.004-07:002009-01-08T22:19:27.949-07:00this and that in pictures<div>A resolution, of sorts, that I made this 2009 was to spend more time on photography and learning how to "enhance" the photos I take through Photoshop. Easier said than done. After looking at all the pictures below, I see that I still need to work on my color balance and hues. Anyway...here are a few shots from the last week or so.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKAfDGcFrugs3LWMs_l7KCGLyC4MRm085CZg3A9cUSIYdAJXTMsIkhg5DeDdE4V3uYzuHqw0LhG722w35iBxZueOt3JdgHMOhxytjnGOgZcN3OgCP7YTBN9-Lr27k3WKMOl6FRA/s1600-h/cjxmasweb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKAfDGcFrugs3LWMs_l7KCGLyC4MRm085CZg3A9cUSIYdAJXTMsIkhg5DeDdE4V3uYzuHqw0LhG722w35iBxZueOt3JdgHMOhxytjnGOgZcN3OgCP7YTBN9-Lr27k3WKMOl6FRA/s400/cjxmasweb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289155535263453826" /></a>This is my nephew, CJ. He is 19 months old and one of the most well-behaved toddlers I've ever met. Of course I think he's extra special because we share the same birthday.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8KkQOThTDsabaduPBAwKytX39lO4yJE0LVZVwttZCswV-f7ohxPJ_67OgyO_hyphenhyphenzklHWx4eg8dkyka2f2z0VB-sRjJchOFPl2vzHmAoOBMP6GrzR7xp1e2dkMyEFeVmVxc2JOig/s1600-h/harrywii.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8KkQOThTDsabaduPBAwKytX39lO4yJE0LVZVwttZCswV-f7ohxPJ_67OgyO_hyphenhyphenzklHWx4eg8dkyka2f2z0VB-sRjJchOFPl2vzHmAoOBMP6GrzR7xp1e2dkMyEFeVmVxc2JOig/s400/harrywii.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289152311456681026" /></a>Harry was pretty attached to the new Wii Santa splurged on for Christmas. He sat in this particular spot, on the couch, for most of Winter Break. There were a couple days that the only reason he got out of his pajamas was to go down to his friend's house to ask advice on how to get to the next level in "Lego Star Wars." I felt a little like a bad parent, for letting him play so much, but I knew it was just the newness of it. Once school started, I was sure the "need" to play would wane - and it has.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pB5t1ynPMHPZ4A46eu2fVo3R7z_NbM1vRWKSiiu5jgN7Om3sJ-3xCL8VnlRugJ6aqdgxGj4wQEEs312JFJcwM893zJUSQSIUl70PDaFH4KU58rPzawgPMDiHtEhAxadQWwVuAw/s1600-h/ellajammies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pB5t1ynPMHPZ4A46eu2fVo3R7z_NbM1vRWKSiiu5jgN7Om3sJ-3xCL8VnlRugJ6aqdgxGj4wQEEs312JFJcwM893zJUSQSIUl70PDaFH4KU58rPzawgPMDiHtEhAxadQWwVuAw/s400/ellajammies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289152308424277362" /></a>This little girl also fought getting out of her pajamas for most of break. This independence is great - it means she'll be a strong woman - but for now it just really gets in the way. Ella was always my compliant one. The rule-follower. Now she has her own opinions and (gasp) actually makes her own decisions ALL the time. It's completely scaring the hell out of me. (Oh - and check out the pajamas. Backwards AND inside out. They won't wear them any other way. This is one battle I really don't feel like fighting.)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPByr05I4vFQYqlQ1FVKiyDuNmyLl56SXyT2gTyQalpwBAubqvlfmYUUON7_j5bJ3___nq8V89PKe8DpDRZKop80YRtNrM6TetjNsftnoH8K4xGQv6u2FVpx6fOdyA9d1hpkkUHA/s1600-h/crazedbasie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPByr05I4vFQYqlQ1FVKiyDuNmyLl56SXyT2gTyQalpwBAubqvlfmYUUON7_j5bJ3___nq8V89PKe8DpDRZKop80YRtNrM6TetjNsftnoH8K4xGQv6u2FVpx6fOdyA9d1hpkkUHA/s400/crazedbasie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289152050609013026" /></a>Of course a picture montage wouldn't be complete without Basie. Her limitless energy is a constant issue for me. I am always looking for ways to exhaust her. Two doors down, there is an adorable Goldendoodle (half golden retriever/half poodle). He looks the exact opposite of Basie. He is thick, curly-haired and tall. I'm not sure what attracts them to each other, but these two dogs are in love. They play on my tiny front yard as often as they can. Here is a shot from today's session. They both look pretty ferocious, but look below...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEFjVuxP1En9uVrwHpIzLPlTLFHaZM_v5c0x17MniqY0EUd-VRNDvTDhDIZ1PZu8sWaeQZJznsH154Uo2xNwldxzSnQVRX4Xa2oEqgnmBJ1mqZjaq3P3x7XOI9vR-M1ZhR5kXpA/s1600-h/sporttounge2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEFjVuxP1En9uVrwHpIzLPlTLFHaZM_v5c0x17MniqY0EUd-VRNDvTDhDIZ1PZu8sWaeQZJznsH154Uo2xNwldxzSnQVRX4Xa2oEqgnmBJ1mqZjaq3P3x7XOI9vR-M1ZhR5kXpA/s400/sporttounge2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289152046510147970" /></a>...who wouldn't love this dog!</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-487803629927438862009-01-03T15:50:00.001-07:002009-01-03T15:52:58.374-07:00View down my street<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-B6fPWSm0QEXuKRmKiEOwpLgo9cEwbg60wrnSFU0fiWnEbZcM4kqzGV2Cn9RcJp3GHmGeDuC0urhuYY03tHAc0ouzbi9K02Z_hzdITZyRRU9CYxjMfLIfKFI8e4laALjLSZRfQ/s1600-h/street+after+snow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-B6fPWSm0QEXuKRmKiEOwpLgo9cEwbg60wrnSFU0fiWnEbZcM4kqzGV2Cn9RcJp3GHmGeDuC0urhuYY03tHAc0ouzbi9K02Z_hzdITZyRRU9CYxjMfLIfKFI8e4laALjLSZRfQ/s400/street+after+snow.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287203861557930674" /></a>It snowed last night and took away all the gray, brown icky snow. Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-53012982557916838622009-01-03T10:49:00.003-07:002009-01-03T10:52:31.596-07:00Go Vikes!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Jk-egtWiefyXSxetImWh0_PxHNdbZ2dkmV7RoSFWfqkL7Q3U63tuh006Ha6m_1xjuIzbTjNvLZze7yBbAHQjPbmXLXkqX_2CcQkHNmcZ6ISb7YI7K-tlMB60spIuiUFdHjVm8g/s1600-h/vikingfanella2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Jk-egtWiefyXSxetImWh0_PxHNdbZ2dkmV7RoSFWfqkL7Q3U63tuh006Ha6m_1xjuIzbTjNvLZze7yBbAHQjPbmXLXkqX_2CcQkHNmcZ6ISb7YI7K-tlMB60spIuiUFdHjVm8g/s400/vikingfanella2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287126328110729970" /></a>We moved her from the midwest when she was two, but it's engrained. She is a Minnesota Viking's fan. (NFC Wildcard game tomorrow - Vikings vs. the Eagles)Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-13747524613288212082009-01-01T21:47:00.003-07:002009-01-01T21:57:48.120-07:00I lied<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSanvTFTertsOaEirl_fRvjsE-xOd8ow5ysOhFCrmzgBsFaKrk7pSX8S-4SNnovqp80_00eFexOYbdRasqrRgbXam8aCFfFVydCV2tZg7RE-oqKSHwz4bLm-hzg83nti4N1489A/s1600-h/champagne+web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSanvTFTertsOaEirl_fRvjsE-xOd8ow5ysOhFCrmzgBsFaKrk7pSX8S-4SNnovqp80_00eFexOYbdRasqrRgbXam8aCFfFVydCV2tZg7RE-oqKSHwz4bLm-hzg83nti4N1489A/s400/champagne+web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286553509907775762" /></a>Not only did I stay up till midnight, I didn't lay my head on the pillow until a little after 1 AM. A time of day/night I haven't seen since forever. Two families joined us, and all the kids got along, which allowed for much eating, talking and drinking by the adults. This champagne glass was given to us, as part of a set, for our wedding almost ten years ago. I don't think it's been used since.<div><br /></div><div>I walked the dog at about 12:40 AM and didn't really think about the fact that I was outside, after midnight, walking alone until I was a few blocks away. As for protection, Basie was a total wuss. There were lots of fireworks going off and she cowered and literally turned around - telling me that she was not going to have any part of the festivities. I met some neighbors on the walk. I will venture a guess that this couple was WAY more entertaining last night due to many scotches. </div><div><br /></div><div>We need to remember, for next New Year's Eve, not to let Ella stay up. She has been a complete puddle all day - whining, snotty and completely out of sorts. Hoping she sleeps till noon tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy 2009! Cross your fingers that it is full of happiness.</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-33166083136970542232008-12-31T11:46:00.004-07:002008-12-31T12:18:17.481-07:002008<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAg4tNQ0iNf26HVuI6ZH6tmSCo7ECMuCQOJ7vKugJ_plgTbx5RM4CftwskO9XmZEn2voIPAWlicUbMuOQJ4h5ZYzyl7uUea37IxxG5VTZX34zl6xGV52XVNrL6SJicC3yxnXWtg/s1600-h/xmas+trees+web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAg4tNQ0iNf26HVuI6ZH6tmSCo7ECMuCQOJ7vKugJ_plgTbx5RM4CftwskO9XmZEn2voIPAWlicUbMuOQJ4h5ZYzyl7uUea37IxxG5VTZX34zl6xGV52XVNrL6SJicC3yxnXWtg/s400/xmas+trees+web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286031223690976738" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">These trees were given to me by my mom. In fact, all of the classy Christmas decorations I own were given to me by my mom.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I will remember this year as "The Year of Many Firsts". <div><br /></div><div>The first year that I started to feel better about losing my mom. I don't mean that I forgot her, or that I don't grieve for her still, but I don't have the deep sadness I used to.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first year that I have ever owned a dog. Ever. She is a lot of work, and fills the house with black hair, but I wouldn't trade her for anything. She has brought so much to our family. She has been one of the best decisions we've made - and we don't make positive choices too often!</div><div><br /></div><div>The first year I haven't worked full time since I was 22. My part time job from home has become pretty part time, about 8 - 10 hours a month, so I was able to start my photography business. Have I made any sales? Taken any photos for money? Have a website? No, but that doesn't mean I haven't started something! 2009 will be the first year I make money from it!!</div><div><br /></div><div>The first year I've regularly volunteered in the kid's classroom's. I'm teaching art. Poor kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first year that I peed in our SECOND BATHROOM! The toilet is in. We don't have a vanity, sink, shower, door, woodwork or tile, but the toilet works. That's all that really matters in this household.</div><div><br /></div><div>We're having a quiet evening at home tonight with neighbors. We won't make it till midnight, but it doesn't bother me at all. This is also the first year I've been able to catch up on my sleep - why would I stop now?</div></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-38089334452800817122008-12-27T21:59:00.004-07:002008-12-27T22:11:25.794-07:00I always thought I looked younger than my little brother until I saw this photo.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhul5w1QpECwnmXbzmvptWJhyMi01mtZsI39dsMNbUaKTZtt_ufARodLvULnwTG6cLP28VEwGsIyen01Cp6jSTXRsRrWFS6ldGgROVHDteRk-cpxtyKpBIXk8WWh0tR_eXLGRKpgQ/s1600-h/harry's+photo+of+me.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhul5w1QpECwnmXbzmvptWJhyMi01mtZsI39dsMNbUaKTZtt_ufARodLvULnwTG6cLP28VEwGsIyen01Cp6jSTXRsRrWFS6ldGgROVHDteRk-cpxtyKpBIXk8WWh0tR_eXLGRKpgQ/s400/harry's+photo+of+me.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284701795039170482" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Basie needs to be walked about four times a day. Somehow, this "family" pet has become my main responsibility as I do most of the walks. I don't really mind the midday walks - it's the crack of dawn walks that bug me. My favorite time to walk her is at night, though. We've had a ton of snow lately and there is that bright, crisp coldness outside at night. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Tonight I recruited Harrison to come with me. He is so full of energy now that school is out. Ella is having a friend over for a sleepover and that just jacks him up even more, so I pulled him out into the darkness with the enticement of my camera. I told him that he could take as many photos as he wanted. He loved it. This one of me, above, completely caught me off guard when I was downloading the images. I don't even remember him aiming at me. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Just when I thought I was getting better at Photoshop, I can't figure out how to "airbrush" all my smile wrinkles away! This embarrassing moment is meant to kick me in the ass to brush up on my skills.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-62906428120639271422008-12-22T22:44:00.003-07:002008-12-22T22:54:35.680-07:00Snow dayI have been in a terrible mood for a few days now - it really doesn't mix with the whole Christmas spirit thing. I wouldn't care, but I have kids - little kids who CANNOT wait till December 25th. Today was the first day of their holiday break. They'll be home for two whole weeks which means that I will not be on holiday break. I took the kids, and some friends, sledding. I wasn't really looking forward to it, but knew it would be much appreciated.<div><br /></div><div>I was right. Basie ran like crazy for two whole hours. I think she went up and down the hill about 50 times at full speed. The kids separated into two camps - the avid sledders and the fort builders. It was so fun to watch them laughing. I actually forgot about all the stuff that's been bugging me lately. It was like I was on an island - an emotional winter wonderland!</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't have photos because a large storm was expected and I didn't want my camera to get wet, but I wish I had risked it. Ella tried snowboarding on her friend's board. She did great. The mom of this friend started the snowboarding lessons program up at a resort in Park City three years ago. She is a great teacher - she had Ella going down the hill immediately. She fell. Everyone who snowboards falls, but she got back up and kept on going. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm so glad that my kids get to grow up here. The opportunities for experiencing wonderful things are endless. All it needs are more lakes. Without salt.</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-84131137429703904802008-12-16T20:00:00.003-07:002008-12-16T20:22:58.429-07:00Pickup<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW01JwTmvzRscWqhXTPKbvcRYS7eycGR2bK5SzeK8P9ixfUOlETChyJxFNX4WVR5ezpnGHNuU_g5x7izBs4NfeqH_WpKcde5p7mzgSPte6X3L9OdYl4-UZvz0r_1ad4zyWUDqxXw/s1600-h/red+pickup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW01JwTmvzRscWqhXTPKbvcRYS7eycGR2bK5SzeK8P9ixfUOlETChyJxFNX4WVR5ezpnGHNuU_g5x7izBs4NfeqH_WpKcde5p7mzgSPte6X3L9OdYl4-UZvz0r_1ad4zyWUDqxXw/s400/red+pickup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280588883934465010" /></a>When we first moved to Utah, four years ago, we would make it a point to explore a new canyon or resort, each weekend that first summer. <a href="http://www.sundanceresort.com/index.html">Sundance Resort </a>quickly became our favorite spot. We love going up there and just hiking around. Several times that I've been up there, there has been this incredibly cool red truck in the parking lot. It's even been featured in the catalog. It might not be the same truck, but I like to think it is. <div><br /></div><div>A new neighbor moved in about two years ago. We haven't really gotten to know her. She has a huge, friendly dog and an active lifestyle - lots of comings and goings. Every once in awhile there is this great red pickup parked in front of her house that closely resembles the Sundance truck. It's been there about six or seven times, and I've always wanted to take a picture of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last week I forgot to worry about what she might think of me standing in front of her house with a camera, and shot away. This is one of the images I took.</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-10012286170507816482008-12-15T22:10:00.004-07:002008-12-15T22:36:13.719-07:00Everything all at once<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMKxyKaaOdZzCnoZclEX_rXjc19_DIWZ0fpnuzt5giUDy43tNCK59urN74zKar0NmtVNgh6o_4P8hLv2kuVjtjvDrvpZ6YTulKJxAr2E-lOPZqmuHeVe-dD-i-qSEs5QPGS2j7A/s1600-h/IMG_7163.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMKxyKaaOdZzCnoZclEX_rXjc19_DIWZ0fpnuzt5giUDy43tNCK59urN74zKar0NmtVNgh6o_4P8hLv2kuVjtjvDrvpZ6YTulKJxAr2E-lOPZqmuHeVe-dD-i-qSEs5QPGS2j7A/s400/IMG_7163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280257120046185762" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsL1DhAp6bV1LEkmnhX2jdXNFNN_FqXKe6-iNcEelwZmmOR94pSB0c6waHmNVpzODckMJoNqgQLySrhamxB-64H4X_VUmqqw7uIrrXQ_zT4SakbyiFs9Kn1wENObgUvJvQUdM_sg/s1600-h/IMG_7159.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsL1DhAp6bV1LEkmnhX2jdXNFNN_FqXKe6-iNcEelwZmmOR94pSB0c6waHmNVpzODckMJoNqgQLySrhamxB-64H4X_VUmqqw7uIrrXQ_zT4SakbyiFs9Kn1wENObgUvJvQUdM_sg/s400/IMG_7159.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280257108062593890" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The kids have started piano lessons this fall. They had their first recital last week. Harry played "Up on the Housetop" and Ella charmed us with "Jolly Old Saint Nicholas". </span><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br />When my mom was alive, I would talk with her at least once a week and fill her in on every detail of our life. She was intensely interested in the silliest things, like the paint color I chose for the nursery or the idiosyncrasies of one of my co-workers. My dad is a bit different. He usually dominates the conversation with details of his social life (he is down to one girlfriend) and the latest scores he received playing golf. After about 30 minutes, he'll finally ask, "So, how are things with you?" By this time, I am tired of being on the phone and usually just give him a cursory overview. Since he doesn't want to hear it all, I'll just write it down.<div><br /></div><div>There is so much going on right now. It's overwhelming and exciting, but hard work and exasperating all at the same time. Christmas is taking somewhat of a back seat. We've got so many construction projects going on that it doesn't allow for cookie-baking and/or craft projects. The downstairs office and bath we are adding is fifty percent done. The bathroom is painted, but doesn't have any fixtures. The office has become our bedroom. We moved down here last week and I just use the adjoining "bathroom" as a dressing room/Christmas present hiding spot. Our old bedroom has become Ella's. I've been painting for a week. She picked the colors - three pink walls, one brown. Polka dots as accents. Purple and brown on the pink walls - purple and pink on the brown wall. It is done and looks great. It is definitely a girl's room. Harrison is staying in the kid's old room and we'll repaint over the school break. He doesn't know what he wants. I'm just trying to keep him from painting everything navy, gray and black - like Star Wars.</div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't been getting too many hours at my little assistant job. I was supposed to get about 8 - 10 a week, but it's become about 8 - 10 a month. This has, however, offered me the opportunity to get more serious about trying to become a professional photographer. It's one of the "overwhelming" parts of what has been going on, but also the most exciting. I haven't felt this positive about anything in a long time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Basie has become more and more an integral part of things. She is such a people dog. Has to be near us all the time and has the greatest expressions. After all the illnesses, and a bit of poor behavior, at the beginning - we are all thrilled that she is with us. We don't have a fenced yard so I walk her about 3 - 4 times a day. I have started meeting all the dog people in the neighborhood. I also have a new appreciation for my neighborhood. I love looking at all the architecture.</div><div><br /></div><div>We always seem to get ourselves into too much, but it usually works in the end. Mom would be fretting for us so much - I guess it's better she doesn't know. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last Saturday was three years.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-65592481830438503342008-11-27T11:19:00.003-07:002008-11-27T11:21:13.554-07:00Ella America<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DHG9DYxhrJXbjzJOpk7JuOcp6s7A__uygpwIKzzt8kxoc22V3XeHz4IkvF0T533LrxVnNL87_Wc9cFtUELI3oRE2aADtUSqtdMahddqHEVexSVBHOcIsAzGacm-_8H_i3JEpfg/s1600-h/IMG_6916.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DHG9DYxhrJXbjzJOpk7JuOcp6s7A__uygpwIKzzt8kxoc22V3XeHz4IkvF0T533LrxVnNL87_Wc9cFtUELI3oRE2aADtUSqtdMahddqHEVexSVBHOcIsAzGacm-_8H_i3JEpfg/s400/IMG_6916.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273404036874560642" /></a>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-50047984004238965432008-11-04T23:17:00.003-07:002008-11-04T23:28:25.949-07:00Yes we canI wore my "I Voted" sticker all day and felt very proud about it. I watched the results come in on "mute" during dinner and then "out loud" while the kids were getting ready for bed. Chris made a fire, and our first snow fell outside the window, as the announcement was made. I feel so much more this election. I feel hopeful. McCain's speech was so gracious and Obama's was so inspirational. <div><br /></div><div>My dad and I argued yesterday about our respective choices for president. His opinions were so deeply rooted that nothing I said mattered. His voice rose - mine couldn't as I was wandering around Costco, but I also was truly trying to stay calm so that I could intelligently give him my differing views. Chris asked me why I bothered. I have to. I can't just ignore what's going on in our country. My dad has seen so much - he's a Depression baby, but I'm not - and I have kids and grandkids to worry about. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't think I'll call him for a few days. I can't wait for the kids to wake up so I can tell them. For the first time, in a very long time, I feel hopeful. It's somewhat of a cliche', but I really feel it. "The times, they are a changin'"</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-26939394301400039242008-11-01T20:25:00.005-07:002008-11-01T20:39:06.507-07:00Unexpected<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTSxezcI_iFZS3mEVU8d4xXsIA4eBwVvWkp5-v3tzkYlVcfggecXCpt_I1Au3GCpsZIU9JJlwlsW0Wb8K7r0DaEBzDOBow7i9aY0IYRGIe6652RjMlf2-pQUxe01DXcUt-F-wsEQ/s1600-h/IMG_6906.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTSxezcI_iFZS3mEVU8d4xXsIA4eBwVvWkp5-v3tzkYlVcfggecXCpt_I1Au3GCpsZIU9JJlwlsW0Wb8K7r0DaEBzDOBow7i9aY0IYRGIe6652RjMlf2-pQUxe01DXcUt-F-wsEQ/s400/IMG_6906.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263899304510494018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5rdpWKMpwbYoNdGcACUwjzitbHCVqaYBUxPQ4kRgm8SQS_u5hGKRmUH-6OuzFlpcxftyENnoG6A7VMfYYmGN8zGVIIkc1J1WY450QczER95RG0IsNqtPA6qPbL_BVSAteXFWLQ/s1600-h/IMG_6910.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5rdpWKMpwbYoNdGcACUwjzitbHCVqaYBUxPQ4kRgm8SQS_u5hGKRmUH-6OuzFlpcxftyENnoG6A7VMfYYmGN8zGVIIkc1J1WY450QczER95RG0IsNqtPA6qPbL_BVSAteXFWLQ/s400/IMG_6910.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263899297016854514" /></a><br />Working on the house, and day-to-day kid activities have consumed us for the last few weeks. It took free tickets to get us on a family outing today. We were able to watch the Real Salt Lake (our professional soccer team) play in their first playoff game. It is only the third game to be played in this new stadium, also. <div><br /></div><div>We were spoiled and hung out in the coolest suite full of really great catered food. We had a great view and enjoyed the fast-paced, exciting game. Some of the fans were crazy. Banging drums. Setting off fireworks in the stands and even smoke bombs. We just sat in our seats and screamed a lot. </div><div><br /></div><div>The kids both finished their soccer seasons this morning, so it was a big soccer day. Besides the joy of being together in a fun environment - I think the best part was that the whole event went smoothly and easily. Half the time we won't go places because we don't want to deal with the parking, etc., but this was all easy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even if you don't know anything about soccer - I highly recommend going to at least one professional game.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-35746394175774678692008-10-26T21:29:00.001-07:002008-10-26T21:33:47.959-07:00A boy and his dog<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sZWVv707Q2NN6PCh542bH3mascPcZMG3cqtCdZtzX8A4kVD0LYBNDS7gC-hgeu2VXjo3gW0ygknOji_2HwzdtKCFkVfbuOAF60IcYRw8PivdjSQofquYiR4dITJXKZepm7VFUw/s1600-h/IMG_6759.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sZWVv707Q2NN6PCh542bH3mascPcZMG3cqtCdZtzX8A4kVD0LYBNDS7gC-hgeu2VXjo3gW0ygknOji_2HwzdtKCFkVfbuOAF60IcYRw8PivdjSQofquYiR4dITJXKZepm7VFUw/s400/IMG_6759.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261686488164131874" /></a>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-85178174655359212522008-10-20T10:51:00.002-07:002008-10-20T12:40:30.296-07:00Getting rid of stuff<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMI2fcDauYm-aktQB29H80HDx-CzGGqwzSp5zfdREcjwrc2NJGq8hgEN-fgiF6UimvH-cxrCjsRulZYz706zODW_AEdd6cRPFeG4SVxHt3eSBUJBFsguQdfhZAcAZ-Nb0aTMzxfQ/s1600-h/IMG_6775.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMI2fcDauYm-aktQB29H80HDx-CzGGqwzSp5zfdREcjwrc2NJGq8hgEN-fgiF6UimvH-cxrCjsRulZYz706zODW_AEdd6cRPFeG4SVxHt3eSBUJBFsguQdfhZAcAZ-Nb0aTMzxfQ/s400/IMG_6775.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259295480922508210" /></a><br /><br />The kids have been off from school since Wednesday at 12:45. It's Monday and they're STILL home. We've made do by planning many play dates and I decided to fight boredom and throw a garage sale.<br /><br />I had pulled together most of the items I wanted to clean out of my garage weeks ago, but there has been a never-ending sidewalk repair project going on that didn't allow for much parking availability. Also we've had a few rainy weekends, so when I saw the gorgeous weather projected for this past weekend, I decided the time had come. Luckily I had a friend to help me, otherwise I would have exploded from the stress combustion inside of me. <br /><br />I'm not good at playing it cool. I fret. A lot. Where should we put the signs? How should we keep the money divided between the families? Do we need tables? I don't have any tables! What about a change box? Do we need to get singles? How much should I price things for? Luckily, my friend, Janet, is great in situations like this. She kept telling me it would all work out and we just needed to remember that we just wanted to get rid of stuff - making money would be the icing.<br /><br />Of course it went great. We had old men walking up the driveway a half hour early, but I didn't really care. Nothing was ready, but they still managed to buy some of my junk. I learned a few things: for instance, my friends want me to continue to be a hoarder! Every time I turned around, they were telling me not to sell this or that. My wonderful old neighbor from across the street even went so far as to bag up all the linens my grandmother had hand embroidered and put them back into my house. She has a great thick German accent, just like all my Tantes and my Oma, and she's hard to say no to. I also learned that people come to buy things to re-sell. I'm not dumb. I mean, I know that ebay exists, but I guess it was pretty weird to see it in action. There were two gentlemen who came for books. One guy was on the phone with someone for about 45 minutes reading numbers from the back of the books to another person. He then picked out some books and grinned REALLY big. Afterwards we decided that he was probably going to re-sell them all on Amazon and make big bucks because I sold them to him for 50 cents. Another guy had an actual machine that he held up to the books. I think it scanned those numbers on the back and then he could tell what they were worth. The best people to sell to were the kids. They would just find a toy they loved and carry it around begging until their parents relented and handed over the quarter.<br /><br />It felt so good to see the floor of my garage. Nothing went back into it - we filled the van (without seats) three times with all the stuff we donated. I have a long way to go, but I am bound and determined to de-clutter if it's the last thing I do. In that same vein, I have found a great book. It is all about the connection between the state of our homes and the way we feel. The book is <span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Apartment-Therapy-Eight-Step-Home-Cure/dp/0553383124/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1224531550&sr=8-1">apartment therapy: the eight-step home cure</a>. </span><span style="">The author has an eight week plan to "fix" my housing woes. I just have to wonder if he can send over a few carpenters and tile setters while he's at it. <a href="http://mountainfamily.blogspot.com/2008/08/basement-getting-closer.html">The basement project continues,</a> however the backyard deck and fireplace will have to wait till spring. My desire to leave education has left us without my income. I have been looking for something to do from home for months and finally found a great part-time position working for a PR firm. I'll work from home, have minimal hours so we have enough extra cash for groceries, and I can still be more involved in the kids' lives. It's so nice to get some good news.</span><br /><div><br /></div><div>If the job doesn't work, I think I could make a living helping people with their garage sales. It only takes one time to figure out all the mistakes and how you can make it better!</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-11433344633550142082008-10-12T20:17:00.004-07:002008-10-12T21:01:12.940-07:00The D-O-GSo. I'm a dog owner. How the hell did that happen? I have never had a dog. Never. Growing up we had gerbils. They reproduced like crazy which was really good because they died all the time. My parents wouldn't let us keep them upstairs and I think they all froze to death in our Minnesota basement. My brother and I begged for dogs or cats, but we were turned down cold. I didn't really know many dogs, so I had no idea what they were really like. <br /><br />When I got out on my own, I got a cat. Then I got another one. One was named "Dave" whom I rescued from a small cage at a pet shop next to a Thai place in Wausau, WI. I can remember everything from that evening. He looked so sad, but as soon as he came home he was pretty much a wild man. I can't remember exactly all of his antics, however I remember I could never have fresh flowers. He would knock them over.<br /><br />Fast forward a few years, and I met Chris. We dated long distance for a year, but would visit every other weekend. When he came to see me, his eyes would water and his head would get all stuffed up. It was the hardest thing to give up those two cats, but when we decided to live together it was necessary. As the kids have grown, they have always asked about getting a dog or a cat. We would throw out the "your father is allergic" excuse and it usually stopped the conversation for a few weeks. It wasn't hard for me to say "no". I am really not a dog person. I don't stop on the sidewalk and pet other people's dogs. I don't ask about people's dogs. I don't even like it when they come up and sniff me. Everyone knows this about me, but one of my friends must have known that inside my dog-disliking soul was really a dog-loving soul SCREAMING to come out. She knew that all she had to do was wait about four years and I would melt and cave. All she would have to do is call from the Humane Society and say, "You HAVE to come and see this dog. She is so wonderful. I would adopt her in a second if my husband would let me have a third dog." And all of a sudden, this switch went off and as I drove to the Humane Society, all my kids in tow, I knew that I would be coming home with this dog.<br /><br />My friend joined us so that she could show her to us. The dog was let out of her cage and we walked into a dog run. She started leaping around. Literally. Leaping like a gazelle. It was so obvious that she was thrilled to be out of her pen. She came up to each one of us, at different times, to greet us. She was affectionate and adorable. I called Chris and told him about her. He said that we should get her because it was obvious that we already had fallen for her. His allergies were never brought up.<br /><br />Basie has been with us for a few weeks now. I feel as if I've joined an exclusive club - dog ownership. It's the same feeling I got after Harrison was born. I no longer resented crying babies in restaurants - I just felt bad for their parents. Now that I have a dog, I no longer cringe when I hear the dog behind us barking late into the evening. I worry for him/her instead. <br /><br />The learning curve is steep and I've been thrown in feet first. She has been sick twice already each with their own medicines. First she had an upper respiratory infection. Through this experience I learned not to freak out every time she sneezed mucus all over my living room. Her nose was actually running. I WIPED A DOG'S NOSE! Then her nose dried out and I put Vaseline on it. I also learned how to give her pills pretty much from the first day we got her. I can whip my fingers behind her canines and open her mouth in a second flat. I throw the pill down her throat, rub her throat gently and keep her mouth shut until her tongue comes out and I know she's swallowed. Can you believe I know this? Non-dog-owners could give a shit, I know, but I just had to share. After she finished her first antibiotic, I had to go back to the vet for two booster shots. They casually recommended that I drop off a stool sample. "Here" the tech said, "Just put it in this tiny CLEAR bottle with this stick and then bring it back within two hours of collecting it. Do you need a glove?" I just stared. The pills were one thing, but this was a bit much. <br /><br />Sure enough the test came back positive for giardia. Something about the cell count on the slide being so high they couldn't count them all. More pills, and some powder for her food. At least she's eating now. She didn't eat the first two weeks, so nothing worked to entice her to take her pills.<br /><br />She may also have asthma. She has this reverse sneezing wheezing thing she does quite a bit. It usually happens when she's been exercising a lot, or sniffing a lot. Yes, Basie probably has allergies. <br /><br />So we've come full circle. Chris is indeed allergic to Basie, but he hasn't said that out loud. He is really stuffed up, and has been using his inhaler more, but we keep attributing it to the remodeling he's doing in the basement. And the dog is possibly allergic to us. The love we all have for each other, though, makes all of that go away. This dog is the most loving, fun animal I've ever known.<br /><br />I think it all comes down to this...Basie makes our family happier. She's been a ton of work. She's not fully potty trained, so I've been walking miles a day with her, but I can't help but accept that adding her to our home is one of the smartest decisions we've made.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9297210.post-18605157336243501652008-10-06T21:51:00.003-07:002008-10-06T22:00:55.540-07:00Just a little tidbit I don't want to forgetThe kids are at such a fun age. They actually have great senses of humor and can understand (and sometimes even appreciate) my sarcasm. Today after school, we went shoe shopping. Ella has outgrown everything except her sandals and suddenly the weather has turned blustery and cold. She was having a hard time picking out which shoes she liked the most. It was starting to drive me nuts and then Harry somehow got involved. Here's a quick recap of the conversation that followed:<br /><br />Me: You two are doorknobs. (my favorite expression for everyone. Clever? no. Creative? yes. Non-sensical? absolutely.)<br /><br />Harry: If we were "doorknobs" we wouldn't know anything.<br /><br />Ella: yeah!...like that 5+5=10. The only things "doorknobs" know is how to turn.<br /><br />We all cracked up. It was so fun to see them realizing that they could be funny.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07697664407174851116noreply@blogger.com2