<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:46:13.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>reddirtgirl</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7404265275497728076</id><published>2009-02-08T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T18:33:58.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February poem</title><content type='html'>I read this poem while I was in college.  I loved it and always remembered it.  I googled it a few months ago and thought I would share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Those Winter Sundays &lt;em&gt;by Robert Hayden&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sundays too my father got up early&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;then with cracked hands that ached&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;from labor in the weekday weather made&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When the rooms were warm,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; he'd call,and slowly I would rise and dress,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;fearing the chronic angers of that house,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Speaking indifferently to him,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;who had driven out the cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and polished my good shoes as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What did I know, what did I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;of love's austere and lonely offices? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7404265275497728076?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7404265275497728076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7404265275497728076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7404265275497728076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7404265275497728076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2009/02/february-poem.html' title='February poem'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-1669539096244326052</id><published>2009-01-03T02:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T18:22:28.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January poem</title><content type='html'>No sky&lt;br /&gt;no earth--butstill&lt;br /&gt;snowflakes fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;by Hashin&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-1669539096244326052?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/1669539096244326052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=1669539096244326052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1669539096244326052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1669539096244326052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2009/01/january-poem.html' title='January poem'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-6181610562224884269</id><published>2008-12-28T12:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T07:50:51.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Blogging is great because it's like scrapbooking without having to pull all that stuff out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway--CHRISTMAS DAY!  Snow, snow, snow and more snow.    A lovely, peaceful, quiet day, just the way I like them!  Happy kids, spoiled a little but  not too much.  Just our family and some phone calls ALL day long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-6181610562224884269?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/6181610562224884269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=6181610562224884269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6181610562224884269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6181610562224884269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-day.html' title='Christmas Day'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-8673368725073201041</id><published>2008-12-28T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T12:21:14.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>Bouche de noel at MJ's house and some last minute shopping.  Darn it, I didn't get a picture of the cake.  I did get a new camera for Christmas which I opened early supposedly so that I could take pictures Christmas Eve.  We watched Prince Caspian that evening and there was way too much fighting for both me and Sage.  At least too much for a Christmas Eve movie.  Kids in bed by 10:00, can you believe it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-8673368725073201041?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/8673368725073201041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=8673368725073201041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/8673368725073201041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/8673368725073201041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-153611523595530869</id><published>2008-12-23T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T13:14:45.882-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pre- christmas activity #4 Gardner village</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaXNXvfQ8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/-u1wc_b8C1c/s1600-h/100_3387.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284577468733146050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaXNXvfQ8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/-u1wc_b8C1c/s400/100_3387.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaXNAQI1jI/AAAAAAAAAMU/fZLgCeAJvfA/s1600-h/100_3388.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284577462427637298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaXNAQI1jI/AAAAAAAAAMU/fZLgCeAJvfA/s400/100_3388.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaXMw6B8JI/AAAAAAAAAMM/Q9Fb-sx0mXU/s1600-h/100_3381.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holy cow, are we done having fun yet?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is my tradition to take the kids to Gardner Village. We look at the elves, buy a Christmas ornament, oogle the candy at the Candy Shoppe and eat dinner at Archibald's. I love it when we make it there on a day that's not too busy. This year was perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time we went Sage was about 4 and she was so cute about it. It was absolutely magical to her. Those elves were REAL and she knew them and they were her friends and she had names for them and stories about them. It was hilarious!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Cash's fashion statement with the headband in these pictures. He was pretty serious about checking the naughty and nice list to see wich one he was on. I assured him that it wasn't a comprehensive list and he was relieved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorite part is the furniture store right next to the resaurant. If I could choose a house I think it would be that furniture store. I just wouldn't want to have to pay the heating bill--drafty big building.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-153611523595530869?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/153611523595530869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=153611523595530869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/153611523595530869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/153611523595530869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/pre-christmas-activity-4-gardner.html' title='pre- christmas activity #4 Gardner village'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaXNXvfQ8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/-u1wc_b8C1c/s72-c/100_3387.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-5969015399028672563</id><published>2008-12-22T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T12:54:54.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pre- christmas activity #3 Robin's house</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTk8fHslI/AAAAAAAAAME/Q-JSuDEZ8D8/s1600-h/100_3372.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573475687084626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTk8fHslI/AAAAAAAAAME/Q-JSuDEZ8D8/s400/100_3372.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTkkOrbhI/AAAAAAAAAL8/FXFrz88IytY/s1600-h/100_3374.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573469175672338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTkkOrbhI/AAAAAAAAAL8/FXFrz88IytY/s400/100_3374.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTjyXKDpI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YcmlLLeDLyw/s1600-h/100_3377.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573455789461138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTjyXKDpI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YcmlLLeDLyw/s400/100_3377.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTMG4a-gI/AAAAAAAAALs/XmB2ZTMkxPM/s1600-h/100_3380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573048980830722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTMG4a-gI/AAAAAAAAALs/XmB2ZTMkxPM/s400/100_3380.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTLbWgwHI/AAAAAAAAALk/Kmrdb0ABHhM/s1600-h/100_3375.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573037295878258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTLbWgwHI/AAAAAAAAALk/Kmrdb0ABHhM/s400/100_3375.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTK5I1Y-I/AAAAAAAAALc/VdZK84-0PNc/s1600-h/100_3368.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573028111705058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTK5I1Y-I/AAAAAAAAALc/VdZK84-0PNc/s400/100_3368.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTKhztm-I/AAAAAAAAALU/MrXy3P1PMoA/s1600-h/100_3359.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573021849099234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTKhztm-I/AAAAAAAAALU/MrXy3P1PMoA/s400/100_3359.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTKSrX9mI/AAAAAAAAALM/dcOo-Hlujtk/s1600-h/100_3367.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284573017787594338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTKSrX9mI/AAAAAAAAALM/dcOo-Hlujtk/s400/100_3367.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I need to figure out how to do a picture collage so that I do not have just endless lines of photos.  Here Diane these are for you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My boys slept at Robin's house Sunday night.  We spent most of Monday just hanging out, watching SNL top 100 moments (of which we missed the top ten or so, darn it!) and a Christmas Story.  Not to mention endless hours of computer and video game time.   Then we had a Christmas dinner with ham and Robin's famous sweet potatoes.  YUM.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish you were here Richman family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-5969015399028672563?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/5969015399028672563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=5969015399028672563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5969015399028672563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5969015399028672563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/pre-christmas-activity-3-robins-house.html' title='pre- christmas activity #3 Robin&apos;s house'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaTk8fHslI/AAAAAAAAAME/Q-JSuDEZ8D8/s72-c/100_3372.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-1589943505128762780</id><published>2008-12-21T23:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T12:37:09.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pre- christmas activity #2 Zoo lights</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaPRJqdhRI/AAAAAAAAAKs/bVvpVHvD0i8/s1600-h/100_3350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284568737580418322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaPRJqdhRI/AAAAAAAAAKs/bVvpVHvD0i8/s400/100_3350.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaPAZ_yqHI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GBHUmrSNURM/s1600-h/100_3358.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284568449907075186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaPAZ_yqHI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GBHUmrSNURM/s400/100_3358.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaO4P4hy_I/AAAAAAAAAKc/eE_bnxDco38/s1600-h/100_3356.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284568309753302002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaO4P4hy_I/AAAAAAAAAKc/eE_bnxDco38/s400/100_3356.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This was so fun we will do it again next year.  We slid in through the zoo gates just after 8:00 so we had only an hour to walk around.  The lights are cool and a little more exciting that temple square.  We didn't see too many animals but it was fun to see the ones that we did in a different setting ( they were not all  hot and lazy and hiding from the sun.)  The coolest by far was the sloth (see top picture).  If I had the new camera that I got for Christmas I could have taken a better picture of him.  He was in the snake house in the middle part that was roped off for the winter.  He was literally 2 feet in front of us with no cage and no glass.  It looked like he had accidentally come down out of the trees and was stuck on the rope fence.  He kept trying to get back up there and couldn't quite figure it out.  We watched him for probably 15 minutes and could have stayed longer if we had the time.   So cool!  Then right outside of the snake house the wolf was howling on the ridge of the hill.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Isn't Keagan just about as cute as they come?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-1589943505128762780?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/1589943505128762780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=1589943505128762780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1589943505128762780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1589943505128762780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/pre-christmas-activity-2-zoo-lights.html' title='pre- christmas activity #2 Zoo lights'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaPRJqdhRI/AAAAAAAAAKs/bVvpVHvD0i8/s72-c/100_3350.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-1983423331232975288</id><published>2008-12-20T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T12:22:46.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pre- christmas activity #1 Wiggins party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaNVzlhRYI/AAAAAAAAAKU/KINFSC4t2TA/s1600-h/100_3348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284566618530203010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaNVzlhRYI/AAAAAAAAAKU/KINFSC4t2TA/s400/100_3348.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Not the best picture, but the only one I took.  This is always a very fun party for the kids.   They look forward to it all December.   Grandma goes over the top even when she thinks she's cutting back.  Tons of food and treats and they get to open a present from G &amp;amp; G Wiggins and one from a Wiggins cousin.  This year they got to help decorate the downstairs Christmas tree.  Aaron made the YUMMIEST white cranberry fudge.  I ate it all. (All that he sent home with us anyway.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-1983423331232975288?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/1983423331232975288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=1983423331232975288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1983423331232975288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1983423331232975288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/pre-christmas-activity-1-wiggins-party.html' title='pre- christmas activity #1 Wiggins party'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVaNVzlhRYI/AAAAAAAAAKU/KINFSC4t2TA/s72-c/100_3348.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-2211457131042172438</id><published>2008-12-20T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T08:27:05.625-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVOx_VKmlrI/AAAAAAAAAKM/v3N_yU1kRCo/s1600-h/blog+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283762489407215282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVOx_VKmlrI/AAAAAAAAAKM/v3N_yU1kRCo/s400/blog+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Priase the lord and pass the clam dip winter break is here. I helped with the party in Sage's room and I had the worst migraine headache that I have had in a very long time. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BAD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; The sounds and smells of 25 second graders just about killed me. I made it through pasting 25 little candy cane bags together with Christmas music blaring in the background and I didn't even throw up. Here's what I love about my little sister. When I say to her, "I have a headache." She oozes sympathy. She knows what I am talking about. It is the curse of the Dalley genes. Luckily I don't get them often anymore but it looks like I have passed the curse on to Cooper. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, the relief of having winter break start was wonderful-- like laying down a backpack filled with homework that hasn't been turned in, lunch boxes that have gone moldy at school and wrappers from every snack eaten this year. I don't have to cajole anyone out of bed in the morning or push them to get their homework done at night for 2 whole weeks. I came home, made myself some comfort food (clam dip, potato chips and coke) , and took four ibuprofen and a hot bath. Ah, these are the moments that life is made of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-2211457131042172438?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/2211457131042172438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=2211457131042172438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2211457131042172438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2211457131042172438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/priase-lord-and-pass-clam-dip-winter.html' title=''/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SVOx_VKmlrI/AAAAAAAAAKM/v3N_yU1kRCo/s72-c/blog+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7125032494390464747</id><published>2008-12-19T15:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T15:34:00.357-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem of the month November</title><content type='html'>I will be posting a favorite poem once a month. The purpose of this is 1-- to share a little of what I like with my readers (all four of them, okay maybe five) and 2-- when my kids read my blog they will be reading things they wouldn't normally read. Although Sage just told me she doesn't read my blog "because it's not that much interesting".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TE DEUM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;by Charles Reznikoff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not because of victories&lt;br /&gt;I sing,&lt;br /&gt;having none,&lt;br /&gt;but for the common sunshine,&lt;br /&gt;the breeze,&lt;br /&gt;the largess of the spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not for victory&lt;br /&gt;but for the day's work done&lt;br /&gt;as well as I was able;&lt;br /&gt;not for a seat upon the dais&lt;br /&gt;but at the common table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When will you make hot chocolate mom?" says Sage for the 4th time in 6 minutes. And this is probably the reason I don't blog much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7125032494390464747?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7125032494390464747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7125032494390464747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7125032494390464747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7125032494390464747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/poem-of-month-november.html' title='Poem of the month November'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-2219782965799273052</id><published>2008-12-19T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T15:15:58.522-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Or I should say November passed without major event except for the fact that Barack Obama won the presidential election and brought hope to the hearts of the WORLD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  (And Thanksgiving was lovely.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-2219782965799273052?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/2219782965799273052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=2219782965799273052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2219782965799273052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2219782965799273052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/or-i-should-say-november-passed-without.html' title=''/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-6477288201013279052</id><published>2008-12-19T14:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T15:11:49.309-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skip this if you'd like but for documentations sake...</title><content type='html'>GEEZ!  I let all of November and most of December pass without posting even once. What is my problem?  I like to tell myself that maybe I am too private of a person to blog at all but it might have more to do with lack of focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, November passed without major event.  Thanksgiving was lovely at my mom and dad's house with Jennifer, Paul and Kira.  Jen, my mom and I cooked up a storm.  Jason made the gravy and Paul (as always) hopped right to the dishes before everyone was even finished eating.  No pictures because that is not the Dalley way of doing things.  Jason and Samantha and Cooper went rock hounding at the iron mines and found some &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;VERY &lt;/span&gt;cool rocks.  I helped my mom with her office and Kira kept the twins entertained.  We watched John Adams and just hung out and talked.  I feel very lucky that I enjoy my family of origin.  I mean really enjoy them, choose to spend time with them, look forward to it even.  Brother's-in-law included.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-6477288201013279052?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/6477288201013279052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=6477288201013279052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6477288201013279052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6477288201013279052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/12/skip-this-if-youd-like-but-for.html' title='Skip this if you&apos;d like but for documentations sake...'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-3231556464736430033</id><published>2008-11-18T16:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T16:38:46.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventurous eating</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXoWzWjI/AAAAAAAAAJc/FfkHfPpKHBI/s1600-h/100_3226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270160848528300594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXoWzWjI/AAAAAAAAAJc/FfkHfPpKHBI/s400/100_3226.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXqSGScI/AAAAAAAAAJU/1MqrMMXmNp0/s1600-h/100_3222.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270160849045440962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXqSGScI/AAAAAAAAAJU/1MqrMMXmNp0/s400/100_3222.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXWrnwCI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Bmi7k6clwH4/s1600-h/100_3225.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270160843783782434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXWrnwCI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Bmi7k6clwH4/s400/100_3225.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cooper and I went to the oriental market to get dried fish snacks (he absolutely loves them.) We couldn't find the ones that he wanted. I say find because you can't read any of the packages, you just have to go by how something looks. Well, here is what Cooper picked based on looks.  Cash would  not even try them:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-3231556464736430033?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/3231556464736430033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=3231556464736430033' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3231556464736430033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3231556464736430033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/11/adventurous-eating.html' title='Adventurous eating'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SSNfXoWzWjI/AAAAAAAAAJc/FfkHfPpKHBI/s72-c/100_3226.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-4826646373401136474</id><published>2008-11-02T15:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T15:24:41.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4zWVX8L5I/AAAAAAAAAI8/XshmI22PPOA/s1600-h/halloween+08+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264201473230385042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4zWVX8L5I/AAAAAAAAAI8/XshmI22PPOA/s400/halloween+08+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4yn97DCzI/AAAAAAAAAIs/OjFr03whts0/s1600-h/halloween+08+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264200676661201714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4yn97DCzI/AAAAAAAAAIs/OjFr03whts0/s400/halloween+08+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4ynn_QLwI/AAAAAAAAAIk/jyvrAxoJwzg/s1600-h/halloween+08+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264200670773260034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4ynn_QLwI/AAAAAAAAAIk/jyvrAxoJwzg/s400/halloween+08+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4ynuh7UoI/AAAAAAAAAIc/xVJotFfOWS0/s1600-h/halloween+08+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264200672529306242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4ynuh7UoI/AAAAAAAAAIc/xVJotFfOWS0/s400/halloween+08+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was I thinking letting them do this in the kitchen? Oh, well a little orange goo never hurt anyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had lots of fun trunk or treating and trick or treating with the neighbor kids and partying at the school earlier that day.  I have about ten lbs. of candy on top of my fridge. Cooper and Adam went all by themselves for the first time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say I miss the days when you celebrated each holiday ONCE--on the day of the holiday.  Not twice the week before, once the day before and two times on the day of--craziness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't it cool how a raindrop on the camera lens made it look like the moon is full inside my house. Or maybe it was a halloween spirit.  Ooooh.  Spooky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-4826646373401136474?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/4826646373401136474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=4826646373401136474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4826646373401136474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4826646373401136474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQ4zWVX8L5I/AAAAAAAAAI8/XshmI22PPOA/s72-c/halloween+08+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-3796270115141304223</id><published>2008-10-26T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T17:27:40.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy thoughts</title><content type='html'>Maybe things are getting better.  Obama is ahead in the polls (cross my fingers, throw salt over my shoulder, knock on wood) and I just filled my car's tank for  $46.00 istead of  $60.00. Gas for $2.95 a gallon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-3796270115141304223?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/3796270115141304223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=3796270115141304223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3796270115141304223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3796270115141304223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-thoughts.html' title='Happy thoughts'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-4920520696952490138</id><published>2008-10-24T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T17:28:43.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbreaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQKFvc-Kl6I/AAAAAAAAAIE/g5mrMl2qetk/s1600-h/100_3200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260914364999440290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQKFvc-Kl6I/AAAAAAAAAIE/g5mrMl2qetk/s400/100_3200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQKFvCZwNcI/AAAAAAAAAH8/gjMp0gKHKTk/s1600-h/100_3197.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260914357867394498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQKFvCZwNcI/AAAAAAAAAH8/gjMp0gKHKTk/s400/100_3197.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think he is so handsome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I asked how he liked the whiskers I had given him. He told me, "They're not perfect. But you did your best."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-4920520696952490138?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/4920520696952490138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=4920520696952490138' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4920520696952490138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4920520696952490138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/10/heartbreaker.html' title='Heartbreaker'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQKFvc-Kl6I/AAAAAAAAAIE/g5mrMl2qetk/s72-c/100_3200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-5631870121732007535</id><published>2008-10-24T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T11:47:45.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My mormon food storage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQS5jnd12RI/AAAAAAAAAIU/9CUBd4naXbs/s1600-h/100_3206%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261534286216288530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQS5jnd12RI/AAAAAAAAAIU/9CUBd4naXbs/s400/100_3206%5B1%5D" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was at the store the other day and EVERYTHING had gone up in price. I mean EVERYTHING. The stock market is diving and people are loosing their houses and it seems like the world is going to hell in a hand basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Mormon instincts kicked in to overdrive. I wanted to load my cart with bags of sugar and flour, jars peanut butter and boxes of powdered milk. WHEAT! I need WHEAT! Not to mention batteries, first aid supplies and a gun. I used all my self control and stuck to my list with the exception of some extra boxes of baking soda, containers of salt and a huge bag of brown rice (I don't think my kids would eat wheat even if they were starving.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then I went back the next day and bought 25 lbs of sugar and flour.  (I have gallons and gallons of water right next to the wine rack.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-5631870121732007535?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/5631870121732007535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=5631870121732007535' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5631870121732007535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5631870121732007535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-mormon-food-storage.html' title='My mormon food storage'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SQS5jnd12RI/AAAAAAAAAIU/9CUBd4naXbs/s72-c/100_3206%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7920948095672953326</id><published>2008-10-19T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T06:06:29.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Canyonlands #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3TgG1kssI/AAAAAAAAAHk/eOh1Z4NSLkE/s1600-h/100_3187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259592488383197890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3TgG1kssI/AAAAAAAAAHk/eOh1Z4NSLkE/s400/100_3187.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3TglF0DDI/AAAAAAAAAHs/mOV2D0tWKAY/s1600-h/100_3188.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259592496504376370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3TglF0DDI/AAAAAAAAAHs/mOV2D0tWKAY/s400/100_3188.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3ThCJIpVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/YD3bpglHe9o/s1600-h/100_3190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259592504302937426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3ThCJIpVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/YD3bpglHe9o/s400/100_3190.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say that bad things come in 3's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) We arrived after dark and the campground was packed. No moon. Steep rutted roads. Impossible to find a camp site in the dark.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Jason's climbing partner flaked out and didn't show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) The fire ring is "not official". No campfire.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) The battery on the trailer is toast. It won't hold a charge and the propane detector's alarm will go off in the middle of the night if it doesn't have a steady voltage supply.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) I left the hot cocoa at home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Cash cut his finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we came home a day early. And good things come in threes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Freshly roasted New Mexico Chile's in Moab . &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Hurray!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Rock hammers at the rock shop for 8 bucks a piece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Winter melons in green river and the trip is saved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7920948095672953326?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7920948095672953326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7920948095672953326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7920948095672953326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7920948095672953326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/10/canyonlands-2.html' title='Canyonlands #2'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SP3TgG1kssI/AAAAAAAAAHk/eOh1Z4NSLkE/s72-c/100_3187.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-4572939313872684738</id><published>2008-10-15T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T10:03:25.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday Coop lost his favorite rock in the lunch room at school.  You would have thought he lost a million dollar diamond.  Seriously.  My friend K came to get me and she had given him gloves to check through the trash to see if he could find it.  One of our young janitors was helping him with a smile on his face.  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I SO APPRECIATE THIS.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes think we get so busy getting kids where they are supposed to be and making them do what they are supposed to do that we forget that they are individuals and that these days they spend at school are their LIFE.  They may be one among many but they still have their own interests and feelings.  Each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so I may be a little hormonal but the compassion that these two people showed my little guy really matters to me (and Cooper.)   Thanks K and Thanks young janitor guy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-4572939313872684738?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/4572939313872684738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=4572939313872684738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4572939313872684738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4572939313872684738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/10/yesterday-coop-lost-his-favorite-rock.html' title=''/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-5482909161638859629</id><published>2008-10-08T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T12:03:46.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wouldn't it be better if we were all born bald and just stayed that way?  We don't really need our hair anymore.  We have hats and coats with hoods and heaters and most people don't spend enough time outside to worry about heat stroke.  Think of all the time and emotional turmoil that would be saved if we didn't have to fuss with our hair.  No kids going to school with bedhead from hell.  No bad haircuts.  No bad experiences with hair dye.  No $60-$100 bucks every two months just to maintain it.    No hair in the bath tub.  No hair in your food at a restuarant. For years I have thought about cutting mine really short but I just don't dare.  It is such a ridiculously emotional thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I run away to live in the desert I am just going to NAIR it off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-5482909161638859629?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/5482909161638859629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=5482909161638859629' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5482909161638859629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5482909161638859629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/10/wouldnt-it-be-better-if-we-were-all.html' title=''/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-1322592010713167456</id><published>2008-09-17T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T19:04:06.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My twins turn 8</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG2QGKtaAI/AAAAAAAAAHc/VYkJ7y1rEKo/s1600-h/100_3020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247175428513032194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG2QGKtaAI/AAAAAAAAAHc/VYkJ7y1rEKo/s400/100_3020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG13vLXH5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/H7DADpPnNNo/s1600-h/100_2922.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247175010024890258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG13vLXH5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/H7DADpPnNNo/s400/100_2922.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG0zz971CI/AAAAAAAAAHM/JBS_yPFHhi0/s1600-h/100_3020.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG0dr2bqxI/AAAAAAAAAHE/dIiEgIc9P3E/s1600-h/100_2922.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx9CPvIlI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vGirsC2ZCtM/s1600-h/100_3103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247170702996349522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx9CPvIlI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vGirsC2ZCtM/s400/100_3103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx9Vu-QnI/AAAAAAAAAGc/V9zFuoCU82Y/s1600-h/100_3080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247170708227637874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx9Vu-QnI/AAAAAAAAAGc/V9zFuoCU82Y/s400/100_3080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx9uCIDmI/AAAAAAAAAGk/LaRrnj8vf3E/s1600-h/100_3077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247170714750422626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx9uCIDmI/AAAAAAAAAGk/LaRrnj8vf3E/s400/100_3077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx91FzwFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2kUPQgwtHlY/s1600-h/100_3095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247170716644917330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx91FzwFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2kUPQgwtHlY/s400/100_3095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx-FjwH4I/AAAAAAAAAG0/xb7pVuIQnyo/s1600-h/100_3107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247170721065475970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNGx-FjwH4I/AAAAAAAAAG0/xb7pVuIQnyo/s400/100_3107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How does this happen? From 13 lbs of baby to 100 lbs of personality.  I can't believe they are 8 years old. I also can't believe that I miss the baby days now. Happy Birthday Cash and Sage!  You are wonderful kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-1322592010713167456?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/1322592010713167456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=1322592010713167456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1322592010713167456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/1322592010713167456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-twins-turn-8.html' title='My twins turn 8'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SNG2QGKtaAI/AAAAAAAAAHc/VYkJ7y1rEKo/s72-c/100_3020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-8532433013728888441</id><published>2008-09-13T11:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T11:17:37.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfectionist</title><content type='html'>Oh, all the mispellings and grammatical errors in my blogs are driving me nuts.  I will have to read more carefully before posting in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-8532433013728888441?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/8532433013728888441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=8532433013728888441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/8532433013728888441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/8532433013728888441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/09/perfectionist.html' title='Perfectionist'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-3493284782541261471</id><published>2008-09-13T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T10:37:20.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv5ns7MUrI/AAAAAAAAAGM/p6Gt3Iu02nU/s1600-h/100_3007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245560651472720562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv5ns7MUrI/AAAAAAAAAGM/p6Gt3Iu02nU/s400/100_3007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv5Si3oK7I/AAAAAAAAAGE/5Cu8RWOS1V8/s1600-h/100_2984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245560287996160946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv5Si3oK7I/AAAAAAAAAGE/5Cu8RWOS1V8/s400/100_2984.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv4__vAx3I/AAAAAAAAAF8/8UnA9WEE_kA/s1600-h/100_3002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245559969327138674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv4__vAx3I/AAAAAAAAAF8/8UnA9WEE_kA/s400/100_3002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv4kM3QrjI/AAAAAAAAAF0/EiE9arAo3w8/s1600-h/100_3002.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am the queen of my pop up trailer. I'm not sure if this is better of worse than being the queen of a double wide (does anyone remeber THAT song) but I love it. No more sleeping on the ground. No more freezing all night and checking the kids 50 times to make sure they are not freezing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took it on it trial trip to Maple Canyon. It was my first time there. The rock formation is this cool conglomerate that looks like cobble stones all glued together.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-3493284782541261471?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/3493284782541261471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=3493284782541261471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3493284782541261471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3493284782541261471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-am-queen-of-my-pop-up-trailer.html' title=''/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv5ns7MUrI/AAAAAAAAAGM/p6Gt3Iu02nU/s72-c/100_3007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-667743535787664260</id><published>2008-09-13T10:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T10:23:36.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1oH0K2lI/AAAAAAAAAFk/PO4Gzht1NO0/s1600-h/100_2884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245556260644510290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1oH0K2lI/AAAAAAAAAFk/PO4Gzht1NO0/s400/100_2884.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1YV-P32I/AAAAAAAAAFU/MzBnuiKIZe0/s1600-h/100_2885.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245555989566971746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1YV-P32I/AAAAAAAAAFU/MzBnuiKIZe0/s400/100_2885.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1Y1fOaXI/AAAAAAAAAFc/8HWyHRJDiYo/s1600-h/100_2893.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245555998026787186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1Y1fOaXI/AAAAAAAAAFc/8HWyHRJDiYo/s400/100_2893.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv09xVpdhI/AAAAAAAAAFM/YpbIBY9P5oA/s1600-h/100_2892.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245555533056407058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv09xVpdhI/AAAAAAAAAFM/YpbIBY9P5oA/s400/100_2892.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of a fantastic rock art panel located in an undisclosed place outside of Beaver, UT.  I will not give an exact locatation for fear that the locals will take their guns and shoot it up. (They do that sometimes you know.) Actually the picture with my Dad is evidence of this.  The other pictures are of my Mom, my kids, my sisters and my super model neices.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These pictures make me miss summer and fall has only just barely started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-667743535787664260?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/667743535787664260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=667743535787664260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/667743535787664260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/667743535787664260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/09/rock-art.html' title='Rock art'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SMv1oH0K2lI/AAAAAAAAAFk/PO4Gzht1NO0/s72-c/100_2884.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-2186848319610126852</id><published>2008-08-19T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T08:40:36.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Summer is officially over.  I dropped the kids off at school an hour ago.  I have eaten a lovely breakfast of eggs and toast, talked to my mom on the phone and started the laundry (which I am behind on and which also smells REALLY bad.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a list of my top 5 things that I did this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1-- This is the place monument and village with kids.  (We had so much fun!  I might post this event later.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2--Taking the kids to see Fiddler on the Roof with my mom and sisters and their kids.  ($40.00 a seat to have Cash squirm and ask for skittles the whole time:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3--Going to Houston with Jason to see the Astros vs. Red Sox game. I am not much of a sports fan but the game was actually really enjoyable.  I enjoyed lots of time with my husband, lots of good food, lots of good company, time to read, and a visit to the Houston Fine Arts Museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4--Opal mines!  (See cool rock entry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5--Reading "Little House on the Prairie" to my kids.  The kids enjoyed it.  I enjoyed it.  My mom read it to me when I was young and I feel like a good mother when I read to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not exactly a jet setting list, or a drinking tequila and dancing on the tables list, or a my children are going to grow up to be the most accomplished people in the world list, but it's MY list.  All in all a satisfying summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-2186848319610126852?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/2186848319610126852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=2186848319610126852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2186848319610126852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2186848319610126852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/08/summer-is-officially-over.html' title=''/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-106548743364587336</id><published>2008-07-28T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T10:59:36.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The coolest rock!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SI4EXFdwVBI/AAAAAAAAADU/1903PNRUN_Q/s1600-h/100_2929.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228121012074206226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SI4EXFdwVBI/AAAAAAAAADU/1903PNRUN_Q/s400/100_2929.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got back from a trip to Cedar City last week.  My older sister comes with her family every summer for  a month and we have started making it a tradition to go out to the desert somewhere with my dad.  We caravan to the middle of nowhere and then load every extra body into the back of Grandpa's pick up truck and drive to the hard to get places.  One year we did this in St. George when it was 108 degrees and some of the grandchildren have never forgotten or forgiven.  We usually look at some native american rock art ( my dad's an archeologist).  But this year we took two trips--one for rock hounding and one for rock art viewing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is this not the COOLEST rock?  It's called banded opal.  It's purple and yellow and white and clear and it's just SO cool!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Funny story-- My dad drove the truck away from the rest of us looking for a better rock spot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cash says  "Why is Grandpa leaving us here?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say  "He's not.  He's just looking for a better place.  Do you think Grandpa would really leave us here in the desert?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cash looks at the awesome hammer that he is holding and says  "Well probably not.  These ARE his tools we're using."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-106548743364587336?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/106548743364587336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=106548743364587336' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/106548743364587336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/106548743364587336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/07/coolest-rock.html' title='The coolest rock!'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SI4EXFdwVBI/AAAAAAAAADU/1903PNRUN_Q/s72-c/100_2929.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-3367942469285248207</id><published>2008-07-17T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T08:39:28.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lake Solitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SH9nO3939kI/AAAAAAAAADM/KFL82xeI7o4/s1600-h/100_2775.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224007598012364354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SH9nO3939kI/AAAAAAAAADM/KFL82xeI7o4/s400/100_2775.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SH9ilZWn74I/AAAAAAAAAC8/vch0BS-PJSM/s1600-h/100_2782.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SH9ilkYlCYI/AAAAAAAAADE/tdCjVO1o8CU/s1600-h/100_2777.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last Friday I took the kids hiking. (Good Job reddirtgirl!) We hiked the trail to lake Solitude which starts at Brighton and goes for about 1.5 miles to the lake and then the same trail back. The kids were GREAT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sage did not say she was scared even once. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cooper's informed me in a matter of fact way the he felt "like his ankles were going to break". ( We threw his shoes away when we got home. They were turning his feet in.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Cash kept saying "My legs are sure tired but I am just going to DRIVE ON. Right Mom?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(We had a talk about what Johnny Cash says a few days before.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all though, not a hike a would recommend for kids. It's pretty enough. The wild flowers were nice and there was some snow. The lake is a little anitclimactic--small and you can't get to the shore to throw rocks. The most exciting part was the very BOLD squirrels. As soon as they heard the crinkle of a Dorito bag they were withing 6 inches of us. We were good. We didn't feed them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-3367942469285248207?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/3367942469285248207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=3367942469285248207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3367942469285248207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3367942469285248207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/07/lake-solitude.html' title='Lake Solitude'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SH9nO3939kI/AAAAAAAAADM/KFL82xeI7o4/s72-c/100_2775.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-2437400977324603514</id><published>2008-07-08T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:30:07.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime list</title><content type='html'>So far this summer we have done the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Dinosaur Musuem with Melanie and Kalli.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Children's Garden with Robin and her boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Camped and climbed at City of Rocks with Pam and her family.  Cooper got to drive the car on the dirt roads for his birthday.  He was amped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Aquarium with Kendra and her kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Downtown library and Salt Lake Roasting Co. ( yummy pasteries).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Planetarium and fountains at the Gateway with Susan and Kendra (add a little Ben and Jerry's ice cream).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Cedar City for the 4th of July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  A couple of Movies and popcorn -- Wall E and and Kit Kitteridge The American Girl Movie.(This one was fun.  I took Sage and Haley and their dolls.  They were SO stinking cute.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  Lots of swimming.  Lots of legos.  Lots of snow cones.  Lots of peeling kids off the couch and away from the TV and monitoring video game time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's it.  Not a bad list except at the beginning of the summer I said I really wanted to get the kids out hiking once a week. Step it up, MR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-2437400977324603514?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/2437400977324603514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=2437400977324603514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2437400977324603514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2437400977324603514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/07/summertime-list.html' title='Summertime list'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-3727290888841269325</id><published>2008-07-08T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T10:58:52.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>commitment to blog renewed</title><content type='html'>I am going to try a little harder to blog a little more.  That doesn't really sound like a COMMITMENT does it.  Anyway, I think I'll start by posting some old ones that I thought needed more editing and upon re reading them were not so bad.  And then I think I'll not worry so much about editing and just write a little more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-3727290888841269325?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/3727290888841269325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=3727290888841269325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3727290888841269325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3727290888841269325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/07/commitment-to-blog-renewed.html' title='commitment to blog renewed'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-8443767900224664558</id><published>2008-06-09T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:07:23.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime is here or is it?</title><content type='html'>Summer time was supposed to officially start on Friday at 12:40 (school was out). By Saturday at about that same time I had eaten out 3 times, yelled at my kids 4 times, sworn at them once and it was still cold and kind of gray outside. This was not what we had all been anxiously awaiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOOOO..... Cooper and I pulled out the monopoly game and settled in for a few hours. I left the kids with Jason that night and went out with girls to eat and see an old friends band play at the Hard Rock Cafe. I got home late, went to bed without brushing my teeth and when I woke up on Sunday morning the sun was shining and we could go to the pool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-8443767900224664558?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/8443767900224664558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=8443767900224664558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/8443767900224664558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/8443767900224664558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/06/summertime-is-here-or-is-it.html' title='Summertime is here or is it?'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-4571850263052474861</id><published>2008-06-09T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T11:17:35.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A wish from me and Cash</title><content type='html'>On Saturday Sage had a birthday party.  She was making a card and Cash said he wanted to sign it even though he doesn't know the little girl it was for.  He writes in great big letters taking up one whole side of the card.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  I HOPE YOU GET LOTS OF PRESENT AND APPRECIATIONS!  I might settle for lots of appreciations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-4571850263052474861?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/4571850263052474861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=4571850263052474861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4571850263052474861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4571850263052474861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/06/wish-from-me-and-cash.html' title='A wish from me and Cash'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-3912450175731962039</id><published>2008-05-29T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T12:27:55.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmmm...</title><content type='html'>My head is full of  these two thoughts today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  I just want to go home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  I want my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is I AM at home and I AM the mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-3912450175731962039?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/3912450175731962039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=3912450175731962039' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3912450175731962039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/3912450175731962039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/hmmmm.html' title='Hmmmm...'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-6849823879553799760</id><published>2008-05-15T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:06:14.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jacob</title><content type='html'>Edward is not a bad guy for a vampire, I don't hate him or anything. I just think that the right choice for Bella's long term happiness is Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons I think that Bella should choose Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He is warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When he kisses her he thinks of real SEX and not just the possible food source flowing through her veins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He would do anything for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*She can have children with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*His skin doesn't sparkle in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*They enjoy each others company in many satisfying ways, not just the heart racing blah blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*She doesn't have to give up who she is to be with him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He may seem a little young and rough around the edges, but he's only 17. Edward has had hundreds of years to develop charm etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Will Edward really love her when she is a vampire. It seems the things that he is enamored with are her scent (which will change when she becomes a vampire), her humaness, (which will also change) and his inability to read her thoughts (which makes her a mystery to him, will this change? We don't know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edward is her first love. He is something between a teenage crush and hero worship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Jacob is loyal, giving, funny and strong.  He can eat food, real food.  And he's warm.  And Bella feels good about herself when she's with him instead of feeling like she'll never measure up. And, and, and.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-6849823879553799760?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/6849823879553799760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=6849823879553799760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6849823879553799760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6849823879553799760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/jacob.html' title='Jacob'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7773519632449165093</id><published>2008-05-15T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T09:51:08.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mother's day report (just a little late)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlK6rjsFI/AAAAAAAAACk/09ZW2klb0TA/s1600-h/100_2655.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200642907931127890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlK6rjsFI/AAAAAAAAACk/09ZW2klb0TA/s400/100_2655.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlMarjsGI/AAAAAAAAACs/qKfgRjK2ZBk/s1600-h/100_2654.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200642933700931682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlMarjsGI/AAAAAAAAACs/qKfgRjK2ZBk/s400/100_2654.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlNarjsHI/AAAAAAAAAC0/yeaJwrUxMLE/s1600-h/100_2660.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200642950880800882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlNarjsHI/AAAAAAAAAC0/yeaJwrUxMLE/s400/100_2660.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;TRADITIONS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1-- Breakfast in bed with flowers, bouncing kids and coffee almost spilling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2-- Presents and cards. I received 8 cards from my 3 kids and 1 husband. How much do they love me? You do the math. Cash's card read "Mother's Day has bloomed in love" and Sage's cards are, of course, amazing and varied in their artistic approach. I'll add pictures later. Cooper didn't have time to finish his gift coupons from school and told me I could fill them out. We settled on "Slave for a day".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3-- A hike to Rocky Mouth waterfall to measure how the level of whining has changed from year to year. I almost thought we would have to find a new hike because the kids did not whine AT ALL on the way up, but Sage saved it for us by having a breakdown because she didn't eat the mac and cheese I fixed for them before we left and she was starving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;NON-TRADITIONS that I think we will make traditions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1-- A nap. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2-- Sushi for dinner. Jason made the fancy stuff. I made the tempura battered spicy tuna rolls. (All of it delicious. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mmmmmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7773519632449165093?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7773519632449165093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7773519632449165093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7773519632449165093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7773519632449165093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day-report-just-little-late.html' title='mother&apos;s day report (just a little late)'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCxlK6rjsFI/AAAAAAAAACk/09ZW2klb0TA/s72-c/100_2655.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-4808586590215683603</id><published>2008-05-10T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T12:13:06.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the miracle of life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCXzbvqObjI/AAAAAAAAACc/fddT4LMLmHc/s1600-h/100_2638.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198829002844696114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCXzbvqObjI/AAAAAAAAACc/fddT4LMLmHc/s400/100_2638.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids planted their Joshua Tree seeds that we brought back as souvenir for them.  They LOVE watching things grow. Our strawberry plants are flowering and the tulips are dying and my flower beds are full of grass that I need to remove. And the seasons keep passing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't even yell when Cash spilled his potting soil all over the place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-4808586590215683603?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/4808586590215683603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=4808586590215683603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4808586590215683603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4808586590215683603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/miracle-of-life.html' title='the miracle of life'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SCXzbvqObjI/AAAAAAAAACc/fddT4LMLmHc/s72-c/100_2638.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-4969073675004355087</id><published>2008-05-08T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T16:22:31.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>advice from cash</title><content type='html'>This morning Cash said to me, "Mom, try not to get mistaken about if your hungry or thirsty or sick."  Wisdom in his own way?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-4969073675004355087?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/4969073675004355087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=4969073675004355087' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4969073675004355087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/4969073675004355087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/advice-from-cash.html' title='advice from cash'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7806022712619375542</id><published>2008-05-02T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T12:04:44.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>money and friends</title><content type='html'>Hooray! George Bush just sent me some money. He shouldn't have. I mean he REALLY shouldn't have. For one thing, I don't think its going to help the economy. It's not going to get anyone out from under a mortgage that shouldn't have been given to them in the first place or pay for an illness that they don't have insurance coverage for. Our government is overburdened right now. We are funding an immoral war, the environment is going to hell, and the national deficit is at an all time high. For another thing, I still don't want to be his friend. It didn't work the first time. It's not going to work this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like money. I love money. I want LOTS of money. When I have lots of money, I can travel and eat anything I want, I can have nice things and maybe a bigger house and a car that doesn't smell like stale french fries. I can take my sisters and all their kids to France. But do I care if YOU have money? Not so much. I am happy for you if you do (at least if you are also a kind person)(okay and maybe a little jealous). If you are mean or thoughtless then I think you don't deserve your money and God (or someone) should see to it that you don't have it anymore. It's too bad that's not the way the world works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to George Bush. He is like a little boy--his swaggering, his snickering, his blustering and bullying, his trying to pay the american people to raise his standing in the public opinion polls. Seems his Mama did not teach him the lesson about how money can't buy friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that was a rant. Thanks for the money George. Your still not invited for Sushi on Saturday night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7806022712619375542?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7806022712619375542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7806022712619375542' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7806022712619375542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7806022712619375542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/money-and-friends.html' title='money and friends'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-5323651337773612130</id><published>2008-05-01T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T11:33:18.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cash</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoK3RGLi1I/AAAAAAAAACU/ZnLI8wWNjjw/s1600-h/100_2186.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195477064723696466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoK3RGLi1I/AAAAAAAAACU/ZnLI8wWNjjw/s400/100_2186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoKlxGLi0I/AAAAAAAAACM/QlmPhBDUFhQ/s1600-h/100_2140.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoIhxGLixI/AAAAAAAAAB0/VfijtzVEEjo/s1600-h/100_0476.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195474496333253394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoIhxGLixI/AAAAAAAAAB0/VfijtzVEEjo/s400/100_0476.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoHyBGLiwI/AAAAAAAAABs/2G1Um5b_a4A/s1600-h/100_0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195473675994499842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoHyBGLiwI/AAAAAAAAABs/2G1Um5b_a4A/s400/100_0006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cash is an ordinary kid. Cash is an extraordinary kid. And that's the way it is with Cash. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When he was a baby I called him a screaming ball of baby flesh. He was one of those little humans that cries, eats, sleeps and then does it all over again for about six weeks straight. He was also one of those babies that you want to hold forever because he was so pleasingly plump and SNUGGLY. As he got a little older he would COO at his toys in the sweetest way. And then he played with his toys in an extremely focused and intense way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He does all the normal kid things and he says the most hilarious and unusual things. He is my only child that was ever attached to one particular stuffed animal. Well, actually two stuffed animals. He had a little polar bear named George who was supposed to keep the bad dreams away and George wasn't doing the job so we got George a polar bear friend who was bigger and could keep the bad dreams away. It was so cute. He really believed it would work and it did. He loved them and would play for hours with them. One day when he was about 5 I heard him crying in his bed. He said "I can't hear them talking to me anymore. I keep trying but I just can't hear them." He was heart broken. It was like he was mourning the passing of his own childhood. It hurt to hear it. Then when he was 6 he said "This is stupid. I am 6 years old. What am I doing sleeping with these teddy bears." And that was the end of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He pretty much taught himself to read when he was 4 years old. All due to his love for electronic things with buttons and the fabulous invention of computer reading games. (OK I did read to him alot from a very young age too.) Because he learned to read so early and because he is so literal about things he says a lot of things that crack me up. I have found him in the bathtub wondering what to do because the shampoo says "for dry, damaged hair" and he wasn't sure if he should use it or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He would do anything for his sister. He tells her "Sage, we have loved each other from the very beginning. We have always loved each other because we're twins, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He looks up to Cooper and believes everything he says. He is also fiercely competitive with him. "Somedays we are best friends and somedays we are arch enemies." Cash's words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He experiences the world so intensely. When he is joyful, it is a beautiful thing. When he is angry, it is an all consuming thing. When he is bored, it is a miserable thing. But when he says he loves you, it is a true thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-5323651337773612130?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/5323651337773612130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=5323651337773612130' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5323651337773612130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/5323651337773612130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/cash.html' title='Cash'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBoK3RGLi1I/AAAAAAAAACU/ZnLI8wWNjjw/s72-c/100_2186.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7568992094098431822</id><published>2008-05-01T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T16:25:45.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven on earth</title><content type='html'>Kendra and I took the kids to the grand opening of the new Harmon's. The kids enjoyed snacking around the store and carried their free vitamin water and popcorn home with pride. Sage won a key chain with a secret compartment and I found heaven on earth-- Spotted Dog Creamery Dulce &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Leche&lt;/span&gt; ice cream. All the fat with none of the guilt. (It's a local small business that uses fresh local ingredients and has humane society dogs.) Your doing a good thing. Unbelievably tasty!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7568992094098431822?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7568992094098431822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7568992094098431822' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7568992094098431822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7568992094098431822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/05/heaven-on-earth.html' title='Heaven on earth'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-6943710231170180889</id><published>2008-04-26T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T12:31:08.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN_hxGLivI/AAAAAAAAABk/56ywW817e_s/s1600-h/100_2190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193635013379984114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN_hxGLivI/AAAAAAAAABk/56ywW817e_s/s400/100_2190.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN-7xGLiuI/AAAAAAAAABc/yHMdgnymNeQ/s1600-h/100_1641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193634360544955106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN-7xGLiuI/AAAAAAAAABc/yHMdgnymNeQ/s400/100_1641.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN-gBGLitI/AAAAAAAAABU/5Re0OQ9Ye9k/s1600-h/100_0836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193633883803585234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN-gBGLitI/AAAAAAAAABU/5Re0OQ9Ye9k/s400/100_0836.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's what I love about Cooper. He's funny. And he loves to be funny and to laugh. You know how they say babies don't really do much until they are about 6 weeks old and then they start to smile and coo and then you start feel like all your hard work is paying off. Cooper was not one of those babies. He belly laughed when he was 2 weeks old. If I sneezed or flipped my hair down in front of his face he would belly laugh. It is still one of my favorite sounds to here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is tender, emotionally sensitive and loving. I love to tell the story about when he was 2 years old and the twins were born. He absolutely gooshed over them, saying how cute they were and kissing them. He was a HUGE help even though he was only 2.  At night I would lie down by him when he was going to sleep and if he heard Cash or Sage crying he would jump up and say "Babies crying. I'll get it!"  He is still so sweet with babies and younger children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is so smart and interested in the world! He loves to talk about politics, history, war, science, religion, ethical issues, different cultures, etc. He will go to all the museums and historical places with me and not complain at all. He loved Jamestown and Williamsburg. He is dying to go back to Washington D.C. For one of his special days with me he chose to go to the "This is the place" village and walk through EVERY building . He would love to do the Blacksmith apprenticeship right now (not when he is fourteen).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last but not least (and I could go on and on) he's almost 10 and he still wants me to sing him songs at night before he goes to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-6943710231170180889?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/6943710231170180889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=6943710231170180889' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6943710231170180889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/6943710231170180889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/04/cooper.html' title='Cooper'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/SBN_hxGLivI/AAAAAAAAABk/56ywW817e_s/s72-c/100_2190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-2044432302091534881</id><published>2008-04-26T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T12:27:12.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have blogger anxiety</title><content type='html'>Really. It's like how I felt when I was ten years old and planning a birthday party. Will anybody come? Will they like the things we do? What if they say mean things about me afterwards? Am I the only one who feels this way? Well, actually I know I'm not the only one. My little girl Sage has this same tendency to think of all the horrible things that could happen. I tell her it's her fantastic critical thinking skills and encourage her to focus on thinking the good things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll take my own advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-2044432302091534881?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/2044432302091534881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=2044432302091534881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2044432302091534881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2044432302091534881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-have-blogger-anxiety.html' title='I have blogger anxiety'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-7099813815730183223</id><published>2008-03-29T09:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T09:18:21.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just got back from the desert</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q9ntE51I/AAAAAAAAAA0/FA8mw9Py-ck/s1600-h/100_2187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183197828012631890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q9ntE51I/AAAAAAAAAA0/FA8mw9Py-ck/s320/100_2187.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q-HtE52I/AAAAAAAAAA8/GUwnuZMhReM/s1600-h/100_2192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183197836602566498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q-HtE52I/AAAAAAAAAA8/GUwnuZMhReM/s320/100_2192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q-ntE53I/AAAAAAAAABE/KJAebk-ICO4/s1600-h/100_2247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183197845192501106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q-ntE53I/AAAAAAAAABE/KJAebk-ICO4/s320/100_2247.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We just got back from a trip to the desert over spring break. We spent 3 days in Canyonlands and stopped in Arches to hike to delicate arch on the way home. A thoroughly satisfying trip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cash spent half the time "just digging up nothing and burying nothing" with the camp shovel. Sage was fantastic on her bike. Cooper was running a fever the whole time and we didn't know it. They were all pretty good in the car and the Easter Bunny got our note and came to our campsite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the desert!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-7099813815730183223?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/7099813815730183223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=7099813815730183223' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7099813815730183223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/7099813815730183223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/03/just-got-back-from-desert.html' title='Just got back from the desert'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mpfTASvLMcI/R-5q9ntE51I/AAAAAAAAAA0/FA8mw9Py-ck/s72-c/100_2187.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-2026032713095213490</id><published>2008-03-28T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T12:25:50.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why don't you do that mom?</title><content type='html'>My children just saw Kendra's blog with pictures of her kids and thought it would be great if I did that too. I'll give it a shot. I'll do just about anything for my children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-2026032713095213490?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/2026032713095213490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=2026032713095213490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2026032713095213490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/2026032713095213490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-dont-you-do-that-mom.html' title='Why don&apos;t you do that mom?'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320327430119625453.post-471016426092038551</id><published>2008-03-27T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T08:11:11.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so now I have a blog</title><content type='html'>Okay.  So now I have a blog.  But what I really wanted to do was check my friends blog to give her an honest opinion about her last entry and if it is too inflammatory.  I am also wondering if blogger has spell check?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/320327430119625453-471016426092038551?l=isitsomeday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/feeds/471016426092038551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=320327430119625453&amp;postID=471016426092038551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/471016426092038551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/320327430119625453/posts/default/471016426092038551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isitsomeday.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-now-i-have-blog.html' title='so now I have a blog'/><author><name>reddirtgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18061283650219439615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
