tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82434650748732623902024-02-19T03:44:31.388-08:00An Unsuccessful BlogWell, here we are. What now?Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.comBlogger226125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-30849663415363448002020-08-26T17:27:00.006-07:002020-09-20T17:50:03.740-07:00How To Fill Up a Converted School Bus with Diesel in Oregon: An Informational Guide To Ensure a Smooth and Rapid Experience By Carol Vezzani, Certified Professional Private Citizen Driver<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-NPtatWVQgKV_eh_KXkuyWUYZst2WPWZI9NBp4lCIvdY_c7_33OgCqCvDi0wXA9g9B1IZqwpI5gu-Ntxz2qsnqFdqT0vKOL0jb6X102R71gUy0XZDy5zLHFComC_V5QpNv4m3cX1skY8/s640/IMG_6908.JPG" width="640" /></div><br /><p></p><ol id="docs-internal-guid-9199e842-7fff-f0c3-7ec0-cd5b57f1a7d3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 11pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Locate a gas station.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pull into the entrance designated for trucks.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Notice that every bay is only one truck wide and has pumps on both the driver and passenger sides.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pull into a bay that a truck has pulled forward out of.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pull in just far enough that you can see the pumps. DO NOT pull in far enough for a pump to reach the gas tank on the rear passenger side of the bus because the truck that pulled out of the bay in front of you actually parked right in front of it and left the vehicle so you can’t get further in.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While waiting for the driver to return, note that the pump on the driver’s side has all screens and buttons functioning, but the one on the passenger side is completely blacked out.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Note that the functioning pump also has the option to dispense diesel exhaust fuel.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Puzzle in perplexion about whether that might be the same thing as diesel or not and which pump you are actually supposed to use.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Determine it is not the same thing and that the unlabeled pump on the driver side console probably dispenses regular diesel.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Determine that, regardless, you will have to move to another bay that has a functioning pump on the passenger side.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Offer thanks that your husband pulled in behind you with the minivan full of kids and is there to help you back up out of the bay since the truck in front of you is still there and driverless.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While backing out, note that the person gassing up in the bay next to you is using a pump on the passenger side.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perform a delicate dance with a semi truck trying to pull in where you are backing up.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Offer thanks again for your excellent husband.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pull in behind the truck you saw using the passenger side pump and wait for him to finish.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back up again as he waves you to back away.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Silently apologize to all of the trucks trying to drive around you as you back out the wrong way once again.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Realize that you only needed to back up a few feet to allow him to back up a little bit, not actually the entire length of your bus.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once he leaves, finally pull forward into the bay far enough that you think the pump on the passenger side can reach the gas tank.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Release your husband to park and wait with the children.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Put the vehicle in park, but don’t turn it off, as you exit to make sure that you are, in fact, lined up correctly.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Silently congratulate yourself as you hop back in the bus and turn it off.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bring your credit card to the interactive pump.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Swipe card and follow directions, pressing “skip” whenever it comes to something you don’t understand.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Realize that there is no “skip” option when it asks for a Fuel Permit Number. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Press cancel instead.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Decide to park the bus so as not to create a blockage in the very active gas station.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Park in the overflow truck parking seven leagues away and hike back to the convenience station to ask for clarification.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Return to the bus to pick up the mask you forgot.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Actually enter the convenience station and talk to a person.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Learn that if you don’t have a fuel permit number, you need to prepay for your fuel.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trek the arid desolation back to your bus and maneuver it back into line.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pull up to a pump so that your tank access aligns with the pump on the passenger side.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bring a credit card and mask inside.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Confirm with the attendant that paying for the pump on the driver side will activate the one on the passenger side.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Try to remember how much it cost when you filled up the tank last time.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pre-pay that much money to the attendant.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Return to the passenger side of the bus. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remove the pump and lift the handle. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Open gas tank and insert pump.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Squeeze handle until it feels like gas is flowing, then set the latch to hold it in place. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Go to the front of the bus to clean the windshield while you wait.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After cleaning the windshield, return to the gas tank and note that it is no longer pumping.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Note that the pump does not indicate nearly enough gas has been dispensed. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Attempt fruitlessly to get it to restart.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Return inside to inquire and hear that your transaction timed out.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have the attendant reset the time.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Return to the passenger side pump. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Try fruitlessly to get gas to dispense.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Realize that it never did dispense in the first place before and the transaction shown is actually from a previous person.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Return inside again to inquire as to the nature of your cognitive deficiency.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Learn that the driver side pump must be removed and placed on the ground and the handle lifted in order to activate the passenger side pump.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Return to the bus again and follow the above directions.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Place the pump once again in the tank access and lift the pump handle. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dispense gas.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When the pump clicks off, note that the tank does not appear to be full yet. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Realize that you have reached to prepayment limit and your previous guess as to how much money it would cost to fill the tank was erroneous.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Decide it is not worth going back inside again and close up the tank.</span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Call your husband who has been waiting with the children for the last 30 minutes to let him know you are finally finished. </span></p></li><li dir="ltr" style="color: #201f1e; font-family: arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: decimal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 11pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Exit the gas station and drive away, silently cursing Oregon gas station culture.</span></p></li></ol><p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /></p><p><br /></p>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-53769335990710390322020-08-12T19:00:00.009-07:002020-09-20T20:32:54.657-07:00A New Adventure!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">This is Us:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmwSaRVtGlcWshuZTouDEo4AnZo7p-BWzOgddNZCDEqVDVLeLfI9iucVrFgv2ctMHRle_vqlYO6g2Bf4PxAdjKtncPEoiVJ6z2vGAiKxXDBwJ9J3xC-B5CA4BvRKekv4WVoSjaVIQpA3wE/s1280/IMG_6634.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmwSaRVtGlcWshuZTouDEo4AnZo7p-BWzOgddNZCDEqVDVLeLfI9iucVrFgv2ctMHRle_vqlYO6g2Bf4PxAdjKtncPEoiVJ6z2vGAiKxXDBwJ9J3xC-B5CA4BvRKekv4WVoSjaVIQpA3wE/w640-h480/IMG_6634.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">This is also Us:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk635z-Wygy9-VsmpCcr52Xav2akT6RDTa3IHilhXKfqTEFBr7Zj-SKlezo9oQ7Z5an8Xkd1MEN6Kdia466CcmnClBGRkalMPnbQ0dmM5_5A63fbRiUFynWwqZdJ3qFYggrbe1R9J72_mM/s1280/IMG_6647.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk635z-Wygy9-VsmpCcr52Xav2akT6RDTa3IHilhXKfqTEFBr7Zj-SKlezo9oQ7Z5an8Xkd1MEN6Kdia466CcmnClBGRkalMPnbQ0dmM5_5A63fbRiUFynWwqZdJ3qFYggrbe1R9J72_mM/w640-h480/IMG_6647.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">This is Us in a bathroom (seemed like a good idea at the time):</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlByMBc5MVcKTOES9uA6eZnlfVEz-xYXJ5WkGYPa9TBg6tTgstsEPRExGW6TFVqz9pw6-C3EWmtaWZlZZVbAiAopKlu8_n_xdH8ZGCliS9VIpdQEJrPNjI9FNDTj1oDWtlsUB-ciCa6vy/s1280/IMG_6782.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlByMBc5MVcKTOES9uA6eZnlfVEz-xYXJ5WkGYPa9TBg6tTgstsEPRExGW6TFVqz9pw6-C3EWmtaWZlZZVbAiAopKlu8_n_xdH8ZGCliS9VIpdQEJrPNjI9FNDTj1oDWtlsUB-ciCa6vy/w480-h640/IMG_6782.JPG" width="480" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">One upon a time we had a house.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw0hZP_MPvlPzI-J6wF80km9isUtPEcfv1mq_XihCVGMFeb-qiC2tbwV0FfcmRCp1XzUSCbtGejnO7Gc5UI8kevowmgS_jatUnSNrXknwnqHmbf53IjGxL5eu0UcBng5R64q118c8SMZh/s813/house+in+2012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="813" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw0hZP_MPvlPzI-J6wF80km9isUtPEcfv1mq_XihCVGMFeb-qiC2tbwV0FfcmRCp1XzUSCbtGejnO7Gc5UI8kevowmgS_jatUnSNrXknwnqHmbf53IjGxL5eu0UcBng5R64q118c8SMZh/w640-h426/house+in+2012.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">2012 </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">It was a good house. It was a clean house (once. See--pictures!):</span></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><span><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40iGBGUAnKNEZrVrjP8MJ3JbaGHrB2OXf5p9r-DYMDsGSQDM1dsERG9aq6iuamcaLGa5FKi33L8UTbYPakLdCQ4q6TcKqzJT9Kn0vFHEZrtAMU2P5NE8XW0vUprixnU8wD2mhBH7LHkju/s0/IMG_6707.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXNTvLy8Gl-dmLlcVLtsyABkqA0sLwoldNUWrVsgxYm93PqgaXFQOXIT-vyhup7Knex9zpyCTZzTg28j2PFAhV6zEBoA-SwHdYVmwpmggI2dmaPlkAhRWrvu_gjHfgTJf6WAATn9BcObx/s0/IMG_6706.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQK-vknDX_RRL_8uO_X4Yx6bhzHRSStw3FRRxcNMXkuQ-m8MjVgjrS37lIe7-E0VkDGk4fkhaaAFFosuEH3XX8bfE0RtYaUvvKqMZ70keysaCsbZwvEY3359R7p_WYClHuATbOla_RHr8e/s0/IMG_6708.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAH9AU6_Ln9jFgbFOUXW9VbSLZB-iPDTbspTyxdCbsfKlJD-lvdHnMQ5ul2oV-6YlFqANCkkIJFcIjI9WKmH_ZOfnM3XTJ7wREXZwkHnKd1_tZVWoWMFEMDmL-eDB5Wm_KQFYS8BA2LCjG/s0/IMG_6705.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDMLCMLaSbvE_B8LRfdrTM8vDf69tfuRL9UuAnSQMY6TdO4DTrI1LKIPgoODDzhR-NeV31rTyoo7bD5qbl_wfunun62odzXHfCHMn8nFQUkGOjLZLAMqlrPFiVwDia0LJ9x8P-WPEgwJI/s0/IMG_6704.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRhMABFfXwnrp05clBdL_HLYhAoHCcJC-xrqKoWWLfD8eK5jhmG9VCgutA-xkGpcC7nvr3XLXjR9CBdCOaUTrtDSvBuUIW3ZwUghPogdKALkMwdFVVm-krHub9x-AD63Q4SDs_2qUrxaB/s0/IMG_6691.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDxiN-v4xXwEnwpF51SbhtHYzhS1VF2NDycY9GVBggyoSMQA5ssioxRqo-yhTzjUDathWDLAVgTBLSQE-bw66wx6Zxmvzlvyfg5LrGZEr1saJPjLVqrAAHH-4p3GbpvVe3qCS2Y58DYWE/s0/IMG_6692.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g0xhz2NsBJ8yBgTkn-Um-mypOcd3xIh5AyF915_t1HLyMIKkS66qTYEH0F16Gx4AckW1J8N5q0ghcPFf_ZMCRt1KTHYMu-TibF_rEnO38rAeXlzau6W-PchIqgUDGr8b0J2_UfEcFCP-/s0/IMG_6693.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBA_b-og9ORfdpKkeE5UdZxxBMDbWmrC14FzSY8JF5DiBlMOKvC1HjFJcXEM18AjDxFNsFEx_JPEyuEz1FsGcpOxAanbgSqWqXEQDgCwgcLS3CiXlmG04plkBXjvysK-tb0czQBje_Q07A/s0/IMG_6694.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha23CouAY-dgQPpO1X8pZfH8oCt71w9EHTQKZjYh1NwimKCffH7a2bqeSEGNOglJ11HHY3yAxK3_7fWdVswPU53yrtyl65yWaQXMivTmNiCVZDJxoeSH8oe6jfn2RSQBvP2_LEXPGgjlP8/s0/IMG_6695.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99LFQJbyyE4EuLCS_cjEnl5Y8tG15Ix_DXH4G9VVLMsyTy3pC0RdWx-2qEx_zRa-6Y1hucoNI2C7q61dQ_O3e1oPMny_PFUz9-kyZlzhmyxwcbb5Zi-K7NBMDaB_wWDFgxAO1yRBli1wl/s0/IMG_6696.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAq7dZkSyYrCdx8WuMTW4gn-R9LEIc7yiZjRaaDSUX-hSfRrcJi29cULr6rF1U3yDTHLUXffXIXDQ0Fk9_LpHPJRZjWy5tjMSC47PRKGLMTgj_3SkIDaQMcl25p2aLYHz-FD2rZDKEsL2/s0/IMG_6703.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_MA-qTQQDD2LSTfQStx8uTdb4Jl_8TPwxYUJyLt3B2ALFp_UJsdM2rw-pqSuELc_Y2ZwQ7uLYM01SLjmedmAcHwyiUL6j4rgZrn_zkSpYlZ0Pzf46zAGGST3ksEYPg9Ys6m5wW6tGDfe/s0/IMG_6700.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_pUfAs4UT9mu0X3tj4GcineGgH3DPq6V-l7BgAXoMQHzSvPhpS-3wu742TQ6lC6Mo0OyZ_pYM9OzQvkOMVoo4bCtU1ZArI86i2wk24dmKTvUefxSSaycOow7Zt1yWboWq1TIgsfzbZr8/s0/IMG_6702.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_12Ajb1q_rKTBSq6_QZO58x3d_W-GwZTCNVvmg0gvyritR8Ox9t9nNjAiWkNnAtBsftJoxpl-BjTf6doyzUkw3fDaD6lwRD4SfM0mdUTPmIstMuCYJ1lgQd7bSlNGGa_Mzo5TybsktNi7/s0/IMG_6701.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXaBYay8HhZcHwh9pqW5ZVv0VDrEMTc-zr5MCaAWsjbe7s-CLs9MgbbmAPTVGYPz03lCi9glbYD6ZaWdwnCuThHHcatDTRAAW8IVlKgT_rn8o3ro-sXPHREjI_4-97PyCXTjN4icd26B8/s0/IMG_6697.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFSQQ3_ILW7yYr9In_Qec1kN-0LJ6zyaTJc1FTCGA4RcmM77sOL0DbXPEhZ6YtxDcr7ZZB0LxiwQpDSFfwwAEYwDRniSdvsIAa7MgYzShkbhX2rZ-Y4JZAugwM5NIw9aAoQjtKLnf8lfY/s0/IMG_6699.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN5bBalA2FWB9DxDzLi5_BUeSXdHMjmNSzns8FD6HD9qMz3r22v-xSwyYxGbG3WOAd8UBqJijHW4q7LXczUSP8TGm5gICU6BJS9CFwDEJRTwKUEmbMiOwoyT0pGLSDDB-SiweiPCirCwn/s0/IMG_6698.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUSchP1_XdA8e5MbhYhgyUOAgN54QTSULEwuty7KQYitgHDgeYbQwYcOgQUDexR1AA6p3nv1vNkcgKI3PWNLomHEPckFAHBuSyYWm9COY7L9Gb7iPXYywkQ2o9_8Bevg54jsYDw4m-cPV/s0/IMG_6715.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVsVQume5tPZdbg_SQqBTRGlTcKrqgMlqSlZ5VWHct_EMZ9iklwQxnx1I8GHRV2iei0YvYrJypim_6Pell8P68RgKrZyYjbIqEjpxh29mjjcZDe-H6NOu3ux-qH0KLw_NP2T_03j2bles/s0/IMG_6714.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHN0lapr9PXQWdBgkRsNN1L-1t9xUBqoSNx6Lp31Z7wJ43UrEviHeCbvO3Y3QhJHh4zRekDejrGIStmEpMUbYgckF_DsLMl4nCrNpJZDoVCRHu0OVz4LDNDLwCPLuTEsaUxckW5sgU4Yq-/s0/IMG_6712.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5NQNS1J5J9YGK63XcrcErrdYsulkTFY2hC5IhxdixRfhYGQ7PFHbi09JjE0po0MhAWCNukddxwp3-a_n05Hk8RYiY5CFScPIRAJP7zwhcNThyNIoBbeyhCErZmiEAE6yeK1h5Nfk5wTJ/s0/IMG_6713.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> <img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHr8-1KIuDflYp_lvvL10E9hsaBuw4qHnGIi2NhDIwUzkeuwQyv35IEAoeOvNi1_rGQiN-9Y2nGpFaC2nzx65kThO8eDSFXCJgq3mFYRsrrJ0UmdxU17N2-dcN5a9F6MFX1Fov6cADD4l/s0/IMG_6710.JPG" style="text-align: left;" /> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">We were happy there. We lived in love with those we loved. We grew! </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTo2hJ1y3BhAgl-4vhZVUPeCEIcTVrA5KgrsAtU5gWaYNHsbjXL0D7-Ug_vZ13uWloqHa3WrrbI_io5hnucgFSuomeSWNEZksNIfa1IU_2Gax3sl_sRVvbiIgASZvZB7LKr4Q_XOjOcEJD/s2048/us+in+2012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1216" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTo2hJ1y3BhAgl-4vhZVUPeCEIcTVrA5KgrsAtU5gWaYNHsbjXL0D7-Ug_vZ13uWloqHa3WrrbI_io5hnucgFSuomeSWNEZksNIfa1IU_2Gax3sl_sRVvbiIgASZvZB7LKr4Q_XOjOcEJD/s320/us+in+2012.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyKseQcrUkJ2PGw6bb4BZfSQBF_GRqOve92sloI4ejWVBG_d8YgkQcG0aecauJguz7pluuGm9KGq3HCFuYfojzfdSJdcqg70Syz_MqW569XJgJIKIlttrFvELiObE624Am-hcKYy_W59g/s2048/IMG_6846.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1538" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyKseQcrUkJ2PGw6bb4BZfSQBF_GRqOve92sloI4ejWVBG_d8YgkQcG0aecauJguz7pluuGm9KGq3HCFuYfojzfdSJdcqg70Syz_MqW569XJgJIKIlttrFvELiObE624Am-hcKYy_W59g/w400-h300/IMG_6846.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"> 2012 (Kevin was offshore) <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 2020 </span><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: large;"><div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div>It was a very good house. But I yearned for a little bit more. I little bit more land. A little more space to garden. A few more chickens. Goats. All the goats. So many goats!</span></span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><span>My heart delights in living viscerally close to the source of what I consume, and there is only so far I can take that on 1/4 acre in suburbia with zoning restrictions (<a href="https://www.amazon.com/The-Good-Life-Season-1/dp/B000MKGUCA" target="_blank">The Good Life</a> notwithstanding). So when, in April, we learned that Kevin's job would no longer have need of him at the end of May and almost simultaneously we learned of an opportunity to buy 2 acres to homestead as part of an <a href="https://osrcommunity.com/utah-co-op/" target="_blank">agricultural co-op in Utah</a> for only $20,000, we decided to take the plunge! I want to be able to say that the next two months were a whirlwind of activity and then we were off! But, alas, it was not so. It felt much more like running through molasses. So much effort was constantly being expended to try to get our home and affairs in order to the point that we could sell our home and leave, but progress was excruciatingly slow! But eventually, with the help of our rockstar realtor and amazing friend <a href="https://www.realtor.com/realestateagents/telishia-altis___3253919_460674921" target="_blank">Telishia Altis</a> </span><span style="text-align: center;"><span>we made it through and out the other side.</span></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">I love the Pacific Northwest. I was born and grew up there. So, too, my children (mostly). I have no love for the untempered sun. Yet the siren call of the land and the promise of a small personal dairy with all the kids I want has overcome my native inclinations. I'm chasing a dream, and, astonishingly, my husband is enthusiastically on board! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /> </span><p></p></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-52845549161090992562017-11-02T16:59:00.001-07:002017-11-02T16:59:56.165-07:00How To Get Rid of Plantar Warts on Children I had to write a blog post for this so hopefully someone else can find it and benefit from the knowledge.<br />
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The short story: nail polish.<br />
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The long story: There is one basic principle in killing off warts: suffocation. This is at the center of all of the folk remedies: castor oil, duck tape, bandaids, etc. Salicylic acid (the active ingredient in OTC wart removal kits) can help burn it off, but they still require the wart to be covered in an air tight bandage. The suffocation does not have to be constant—coverage for the majority of most days will do the trick. All of these remedies take at least a month of doing it consistently (a little less for Salacylic acid) before seeing any result, but when you persist, magically one day it will fall off and life will be beautiful (but not your skin yet—that takes a few more weeks to grow smooth again).<br />
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My daughter developed a wart on the ball of her foot. For a while, after realizing it was not a sliver, I just left it alone hoping it wold go away. After several months, I finally accepted that it was not going to resolve itself. With clearance from our doctor, I picked up an OTC remover kit and applied it to my 3 year old’s foot. The medicated pad stayed on all of 5 minutes. We tried taping it on, wearing a sock, wearing a shoe, all the things, but she would just get tired of it and take it off. I tried all the other things with the same result—she pulled it off almost immediately. Then I found the one she can’t pull off: nail polish!<br />
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I started carrying a bottle of nail polish in my purse and every time we got in the car I would put a fresh coat on her foot and it would be dry by the time we got where we were going. If I ever noticed it wearing off at home, I would let her sit down with a show for 10 minutes and re-coat it. She was really good about letting it dry, especially if I also painted her toe nails. It did come off in a day or so, but it usually stayed on at least 24 hours, which let it do the trick. Woohoo!<br />
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She has been wart-free for several months now. Nail polish for the win!Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-38308247992312403702017-09-20T16:02:00.002-07:002017-09-20T22:23:38.644-07:00Fried Eggplant (Parmigiana)For those of you wondering, "What do I do with all this eggplant?!" here is your answer:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiAchvf0mQ9NtHqyVMQ5Gwe2Ib2385EX_6ZID4BKpDI0kPeUG9EcP3WG3aHE8OvDJ5dHAjhVibILOxBNpdMeY1U8P_lhMqetsj8lTdNA9d92ZRs4CEbRiWA9uGKDkCWa7o5p5yfJCkvVA/s1600/IMG_2795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiAchvf0mQ9NtHqyVMQ5Gwe2Ib2385EX_6ZID4BKpDI0kPeUG9EcP3WG3aHE8OvDJ5dHAjhVibILOxBNpdMeY1U8P_lhMqetsj8lTdNA9d92ZRs4CEbRiWA9uGKDkCWa7o5p5yfJCkvVA/s320/IMG_2795.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Eggplant Parmigiana</div>
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🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤</div>
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Steps: </div>
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1) layer breaded, fried eggplant in a casserole dish</div>
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2) cover with spaghetti sauce</div>
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3) top with mozzazrella and parmesan cheese</div>
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4) bake at 350-450 until the cheese is melted and the sauce is bubbly. </div>
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Easy, right? Well, as long as you have breaded, fried eggplant at hand. There are as many ways to bread and fry an eggplant as there are people that cook them. Here is mine:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXp-BPiyZHO9sAvmbg7eZLjPvAksBHclg3gs9OsQbAuD9TJQPUB_TLkV0WdRjNJ61IsTcjOj-U_XXAhI_WLPJNBC-gTUDsfeHllGz7etI1rE71006xjhWv3kV56iEUDryHb0oVSt7fGdAr/s1600/IMG_2755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXp-BPiyZHO9sAvmbg7eZLjPvAksBHclg3gs9OsQbAuD9TJQPUB_TLkV0WdRjNJ61IsTcjOj-U_XXAhI_WLPJNBC-gTUDsfeHllGz7etI1rE71006xjhWv3kV56iEUDryHb0oVSt7fGdAr/s320/IMG_2755.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1) Peel eggplant (I had 3)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhLk01IevwnD9j72TOFW8iei7or4JGbPULsJ5LcbAhgVj1XkCJqdwm11GrQQh1VwZR5EBg4ygEK7LxD3Gm4wZ1R9uIaS2fQzeyLORwhQaxciMOnJQs34Oq5BrzPj-4e-umg9atjlNweAf/s1600/IMG_2756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhLk01IevwnD9j72TOFW8iei7or4JGbPULsJ5LcbAhgVj1XkCJqdwm11GrQQh1VwZR5EBg4ygEK7LxD3Gm4wZ1R9uIaS2fQzeyLORwhQaxciMOnJQs34Oq5BrzPj-4e-umg9atjlNweAf/s320/IMG_2756.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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2) Slice into 1/2 inch rounds</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpCCoY335obiys9E9ZMxAmQ9jCy2WaHcjAeZkQJqh_zeJ1CzU3MRVj9ozbzKC9_VVUsanoWYYDAWGwtFJyNKxxZvhgUTYPFSBcIc1b2LeGbOoRIBFYyt7DZmBBLYDgCrPmVRB-QYN4KQj/s1600/IMG_2757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpCCoY335obiys9E9ZMxAmQ9jCy2WaHcjAeZkQJqh_zeJ1CzU3MRVj9ozbzKC9_VVUsanoWYYDAWGwtFJyNKxxZvhgUTYPFSBcIc1b2LeGbOoRIBFYyt7DZmBBLYDgCrPmVRB-QYN4KQj/s320/IMG_2757.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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3) Salt both sides of slices</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1fjxcFBca8tMJxb0EED2MaAcrz9C9QJxT47WFsofF7-cxVaHi5Rh9D8_m_XE_vuXeFJELkKA79lB8dXLkzBFMay1Fg9ElWlNHYwzijSdP0KOr4D7987KL24LK2TiLQwNPxuosceeVVkh9/s1600/IMG_2758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1fjxcFBca8tMJxb0EED2MaAcrz9C9QJxT47WFsofF7-cxVaHi5Rh9D8_m_XE_vuXeFJELkKA79lB8dXLkzBFMay1Fg9ElWlNHYwzijSdP0KOr4D7987KL24LK2TiLQwNPxuosceeVVkh9/s320/IMG_2758.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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4) Arrange the slices vertically in a colander or strainer. Let sit for at least 30 minutes. This step pulls bitter liquid out of the eggplant. You can skip it if your eggplant is young, tender, and sweet. I never check my eggplant before cooking, so I just always do this.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwkHHQS5-OFVX8uR6PDe6JQ7JS2uNToxBZGQL575FhRlhyphenhyphenqLCcch6jn9029cmviB28mW3ijqzWw1xJg4CI2gdoYo4FUX2skrn9xzTf0QOctCkHwONn88Erz4_CXhgs_WN2yI78QP8_KZe/s1600/IMG_2772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwkHHQS5-OFVX8uR6PDe6JQ7JS2uNToxBZGQL575FhRlhyphenhyphenqLCcch6jn9029cmviB28mW3ijqzWw1xJg4CI2gdoYo4FUX2skrn9xzTf0QOctCkHwONn88Erz4_CXhgs_WN2yI78QP8_KZe/s320/IMG_2772.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> A B C</td></tr>
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5) Prepare your breading concoctions:</div>
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A--dredging flour: whisk together</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLm0-4XGC4UY1NqG5CRJThWN9zoWn4safk_TZdtHepSYn5Ht_0qruvVrb6G3pGwOheRxDupP58lBM8VDxIVglV60XxPxrHc4Tp55EbZGmlS3OVBKpK9b5lX5fJ2_H250N915ZIf62c57A/s1600/IMG_2763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLm0-4XGC4UY1NqG5CRJThWN9zoWn4safk_TZdtHepSYn5Ht_0qruvVrb6G3pGwOheRxDupP58lBM8VDxIVglV60XxPxrHc4Tp55EbZGmlS3OVBKpK9b5lX5fJ2_H250N915ZIf62c57A/s320/IMG_2763.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1/2 c allpurpose flour,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjeCPHUFYiCtN7mFI8ksN3ESNU6SM3pFLf7uNaowSxi9553UQlcPfb772CeCGfMdFmNIcNar0AXnrNnt-BSOet8qhVpwWvAKxTbHHfQJlZfgkBxJ6ifxbG6iRDXh-oPhZFRa15hsy7iEy/s1600/IMG_2770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjeCPHUFYiCtN7mFI8ksN3ESNU6SM3pFLf7uNaowSxi9553UQlcPfb772CeCGfMdFmNIcNar0AXnrNnt-BSOet8qhVpwWvAKxTbHHfQJlZfgkBxJ6ifxbG6iRDXh-oPhZFRa15hsy7iEy/s320/IMG_2770.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1 t. salt,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1UdGLcRLNv7YQgavCwvKl9-QeD_U6g_pp4W5s5DBi_HoPSE3JXImoLBMA14-Dq8FGMHtQySXmy-aDRm5LQp6q_OFwFiI4sITGp4tzPrU-dtcDzujrrp8af99wiOUsRR0hz6Hl6bjx-Kp/s1600/IMG_2767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1UdGLcRLNv7YQgavCwvKl9-QeD_U6g_pp4W5s5DBi_HoPSE3JXImoLBMA14-Dq8FGMHtQySXmy-aDRm5LQp6q_OFwFiI4sITGp4tzPrU-dtcDzujrrp8af99wiOUsRR0hz6Hl6bjx-Kp/s320/IMG_2767.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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a few shakes of pepper</div>
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B--Egg:</div>
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beat together 4 eggs in a bowl (no photo)</div>
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C--Bread crumb coating: whisk together</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5P0nZXXh0Opt6JhqgjBlxr6NVsXy1dn4__mqJjuWjHok8rBM4zrnLlJare-aFxa7PL6GsDNPtgf5ePWIgQOFP5sWBM5SuvgEua7kdfu50ObVRMofmbPuWUL26AHtA2WljT6-f4KFihdM/s1600/IMG_2759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5P0nZXXh0Opt6JhqgjBlxr6NVsXy1dn4__mqJjuWjHok8rBM4zrnLlJare-aFxa7PL6GsDNPtgf5ePWIgQOFP5sWBM5SuvgEua7kdfu50ObVRMofmbPuWUL26AHtA2WljT6-f4KFihdM/s320/IMG_2759.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1 1/2 c bread crumbs or crushed cornflakes,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyrDRR5oOGuNpyrgJQWWLR5WAUw-I5Rn6fdwGH4UoYj7aH_-YQzyURnx2d4I_rIym3Ex8qnFhaSdYq01KAElABGKKOwedJSta0X1Dawx9uaAoehmwgIbcU35_QuavTd18hzdbb8zmtLpn/s1600/IMG_2760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyrDRR5oOGuNpyrgJQWWLR5WAUw-I5Rn6fdwGH4UoYj7aH_-YQzyURnx2d4I_rIym3Ex8qnFhaSdYq01KAElABGKKOwedJSta0X1Dawx9uaAoehmwgIbcU35_QuavTd18hzdbb8zmtLpn/s320/IMG_2760.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1/8 c (2 T) oregano,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgya22HM-MrrzEe5dhQlj6z1g7PXK3aF05cEs3UJyjOmDPwCzY1SFBaaT9KNFFTO7HZt4txESgbnRuf5FYuIwqlMJCT42tww7mZY46BtPvT4C6aD-g3FCQbtjOVGtCixBZ9If_BwErId3kE/s1600/IMG_2761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgya22HM-MrrzEe5dhQlj6z1g7PXK3aF05cEs3UJyjOmDPwCzY1SFBaaT9KNFFTO7HZt4txESgbnRuf5FYuIwqlMJCT42tww7mZY46BtPvT4C6aD-g3FCQbtjOVGtCixBZ9If_BwErId3kE/s320/IMG_2761.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1/8 c (2 T) parsley,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NatsK4N5KJxSLbi1PMwjn7zglZ-orzsITG6OJxr4EzRgXFtiokH5KaO0g6S46VzG9tljzE_S_HRGdc2LEM5t6Gi681S_QopMUkBv9cfpkLa-F48X96jUQSFW4c1lHw2PZ29_1Zt50sWu/s1600/IMG_2762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NatsK4N5KJxSLbi1PMwjn7zglZ-orzsITG6OJxr4EzRgXFtiokH5KaO0g6S46VzG9tljzE_S_HRGdc2LEM5t6Gi681S_QopMUkBv9cfpkLa-F48X96jUQSFW4c1lHw2PZ29_1Zt50sWu/s320/IMG_2762.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1/8 c (2 T) granulated garlic </div>
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(in future I may put the garlic in the flour instead)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gMyZgddUrqtdRtmgH9YzzhJhf-QNSXkmrb5taZo1BixFus_6i3_W2ycGHdiygrWwpTZP61QUDJVTDaYRCBMc-0LcMZZ2Ga2yq_5odgmrxCf9-ngKhpd97ayROeodvSTDbSakVzWnD4Fu/s1600/IMG_2769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gMyZgddUrqtdRtmgH9YzzhJhf-QNSXkmrb5taZo1BixFus_6i3_W2ycGHdiygrWwpTZP61QUDJVTDaYRCBMc-0LcMZZ2Ga2yq_5odgmrxCf9-ngKhpd97ayROeodvSTDbSakVzWnD4Fu/s320/IMG_2769.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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6) heat frying oil over medium-high until a pinch of flour sizzles </div>
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(I used cubes of beef tallow)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xjw2H_tPIRYslNMWN_ev3CF86Zu21YpHI_aLh4u5_t5VkjVePXjHpc2tbdcluDJcar7gcGg0-otOtdU8y61TiX4aK48IEiGfjp2Tq52mJM6l1vKI4X78ynpGFjdAtpMenorn1kpVudMP/s1600/IMG_2768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xjw2H_tPIRYslNMWN_ev3CF86Zu21YpHI_aLh4u5_t5VkjVePXjHpc2tbdcluDJcar7gcGg0-otOtdU8y61TiX4aK48IEiGfjp2Tq52mJM6l1vKI4X78ynpGFjdAtpMenorn1kpVudMP/s320/IMG_2768.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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7) prepare draining rack--a cooling rack with paper towels underneath</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMEP-50dcMPCN7SrG5pZAQsSZ6-wCTy9IHrFX5_KIONV7vc9cifN4bh8z8zvC3ig9BJbChFMJtOYycKyqCFgGuTm1pblhy7F-mMW0kvQruKruArkwDyIEgcsHAoO1opvjHCuodgBCiTD5/s1600/IMG_2771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMEP-50dcMPCN7SrG5pZAQsSZ6-wCTy9IHrFX5_KIONV7vc9cifN4bh8z8zvC3ig9BJbChFMJtOYycKyqCFgGuTm1pblhy7F-mMW0kvQruKruArkwDyIEgcsHAoO1opvjHCuodgBCiTD5/s320/IMG_2771.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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8) pick up your colander/strainer of slices and check for brown drips underneath--the salt is working!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQlKUYRS6X5WVn-pUXB5URjm18H-1-wWFXcYUO8X3xTl2vNgSiQFcq8yUVRXztdTkokDyahj2jx1rUDZJ3Ohuu60hn12atG7ETxfPDcyKXy-gT0sdLmwCx-BLXFRS0TburRQ655iYJr5n/s1600/IMG_2774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQlKUYRS6X5WVn-pUXB5URjm18H-1-wWFXcYUO8X3xTl2vNgSiQFcq8yUVRXztdTkokDyahj2jx1rUDZJ3Ohuu60hn12atG7ETxfPDcyKXy-gT0sdLmwCx-BLXFRS0TburRQ655iYJr5n/s320/IMG_2774.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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9) rinse off eggplant slices</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEugkP6Gn2VWFh6URQRhVQa1DwAMqDT38RFaTQKueozO1qJWxS8IXZTGIWxJ0ujd7QiHEmbBhmrVsdd-c332wvFLoi-Sc9kxKlgVeGkzcINlM825GZ8fIS86KoggsxAzzLJt5bjVF3GzCb/s1600/IMG_2780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEugkP6Gn2VWFh6URQRhVQa1DwAMqDT38RFaTQKueozO1qJWxS8IXZTGIWxJ0ujd7QiHEmbBhmrVsdd-c332wvFLoi-Sc9kxKlgVeGkzcINlM825GZ8fIS86KoggsxAzzLJt5bjVF3GzCb/s320/IMG_2780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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10) arrange slices on a paper towel</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCcTYeVLBT4_tlEP-LbBDqMtPBQNeX5IfFmAJx34NN4QALUFjHZlael0lo8hplPmnSI0JSXxj23dLvpor2KyPsgHfoyurHE1DsTCJ7sl-HKQkj6-IQfDDy4pSsrbQBppwzKUlqutJisxK/s1600/IMG_2779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCcTYeVLBT4_tlEP-LbBDqMtPBQNeX5IfFmAJx34NN4QALUFjHZlael0lo8hplPmnSI0JSXxj23dLvpor2KyPsgHfoyurHE1DsTCJ7sl-HKQkj6-IQfDDy4pSsrbQBppwzKUlqutJisxK/s320/IMG_2779.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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11) cover with another towel and press to absorb excess water/liquid</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1b4_34TBbiq02lsDRLuxuoBvDb_bBoTKqrRlty8PcwH4sKyEwY1JdEmZOju2ZEYJVvCP9MYoo4JWhCNd-7Diet3WKvMfDE9nf_AZ_0OILmb-JD_eg7q4v1hQAZJTGloUmj_br5SNQ3s2u/s1600/IMG_2781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1b4_34TBbiq02lsDRLuxuoBvDb_bBoTKqrRlty8PcwH4sKyEwY1JdEmZOju2ZEYJVvCP9MYoo4JWhCNd-7Diet3WKvMfDE9nf_AZ_0OILmb-JD_eg7q4v1hQAZJTGloUmj_br5SNQ3s2u/s320/IMG_2781.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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12) allow "helpful" preschooler to drop half of the slices on the floor</div>
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13) repeat steps 9-11. If you repeat step 12, turn on a video for the preschooler and repeat steps 9-11 again.</div>
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14) coat and fry each slice:</div>
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*tip: use a separate fork for for each step to avoid building up caked breading*</div>
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A--dredge both sides in flour mixture. Tap off excess</div>
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B--dip both sides in egg. make sure it is well coated</div>
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let excess drip off</div>
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C--coat both sides in bread crumb mixture</div>
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tap off excess</div>
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D--gently slip the slice into the oil. using tongs or another fork to push it off helps avoid rubbing off the breading.</div>
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E--flip each slice once</div>
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I found the amount of time it took to do A-C was about the right amount of time to fry on one side. So each time I added one, I would flip one and take one out. Adjust the burner temperature if they are cooking too quickly or slowly. At this point I am not worried about whether they are cooked all the way through. They finish cooking when they are made into parmigiana.</div>
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F--Put each fried slice on the draining rack.</div>
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15) Step back and admire your ability to gauge how much breading material will be needed with minimal waste!</div>
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16) also admire the play of sunlight through the haze of grease smoke in your home</div>
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17) give in to the impulse to eat these delicious little nuggets of goodness straight-up instead of saving them to make parmigiana later.</div>
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I freeze the slices and pull them out as needed. I can do enough for the whole family or just a few slices for my own lunch.</div>
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<br />Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-90862125065287145012014-02-13T15:10:00.000-08:002014-02-17T00:03:42.148-08:00OstentationI did something last Sunday that I planned never to do. I wore my tie skirt to church. I have had this skirt for about 9 years, but I have never worn it to church. I love it. It is fun, it is funky, and I made it myself from old neckties. But I don't wear it to church. I never thought about it very hard, but it just never felt like it was appropriate. I finally figured out why.<br />
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On Saturday I went to my sister's house. She watched my kids while I went to the <a href="http://www.lds.org/topics/temples?lang=eng">temple </a>and I watched her kids while she went to stake conference. I decided to wear my tie skirt because in going to the temple, I would only wear it in and out and during the actual worship time I would be wearing different clothing. But that evening, when I was supposed to be going home, it snowed, and I decided to stay the night for safety. The next morning we rushed out best to get home for church, but were running late. I got the kids and the baby dressed and decided that since I was already wearing a nice skirt, I would just go to church without taking time to change myself (we were already late). It was then that I realized what I knew in the back of my mind all along--that skirt is a little <b>too </b>fabulous for church. And what I mean by that is that in addition to being wonderful, it is unusual enough to be very showy. It is distracting. And for me, that makes me uncomfortable at church. I don't want to be the cause of distraction from the worship that should be the focus of the meeting. The adults could hold it together, and though they may have been distracted by it, they hid it well and waited until after the meetings to ask me about it or admire it openly. The kids, not so much. Sr. Primary (8-11 year olds) was a mess during singing time (which I am in charge of). Several of the kids could not concentrate on the songs as they stared open-mouthed at my skirt and kept repeating the same questions, ones I'd already answered, over and over again--"Is that made out of ties?" "Did you make that yourself?" "Are those real ties?" "Where did you get those ties?" <br />
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And that is the problem. Although in and of itself it is a perfectly harmless piece of clothing, it is even neat and comely, some of my "best" clothes, and therefore in an absolute sense, it fills what I see as appropriate for church, it is highly unusual and serves no functional purpose for me in its uniqueness. I make that qualification because there are some culturally unusual articles of clothing that may be important in their functionality for the individual wearing them. In those cases, the functionality can trump the unconventionality and it becomes appropriate for church. (In my opinion, women wearing pants, men wearing lava-lavas, and partially exposed breastfeeding at church all fall into this category--it is not inappropriate, just culturally unusual enough to be distracting, and therefore something to weigh carefully in your reason for doing it.) My tie skirt serves no functional purpose for me, and is highly unusual. Knowing this, and still choosing to wear it qualifies as ostentation for me. Knowingly and gratuitously doing something likely to draw attention. That is absolutely fine in many circumstances, but in my understanding, it doesn't belong at church, where the focus should be on no individual, but on the reverent worship that happens there. Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-23058804743511786432013-03-25T18:43:00.001-07:002014-02-17T00:06:57.238-08:00DONEThe baby threw up at the dinner table. I asked the older 3 (8, 6, and 4) to look after things while I rinsed her off in the bathtub. I am gone no more than 5 minutes--it was a quick rinse and there was not much mess. I come down to find all 3 older children have their bowls full of food thrown against the wall and covering the floor. They try to blame the 2 year old, who is the only one sitting with his bowl intact, still eating, on the other side of the table. I don't think so. <br />
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They clean up the floor then get sent away. I am too mad not to do something unwarrented to them if I have to continue to look at them. The baby only wants me to stand up and hold her. I don't think she's sick, I think she coughed herself a little throw up, but she doesn't want to eat, she doesn't want milk, and she doesn't want me to sit down. She gets to cry on the floor. The 2 year old, too distracted to eat anymore, tries to follow the big kids upstairs, but the gate is shut. Unfortunately, a piece that secures it in place went missing earlier today and when he climbs on it, it falls over on top of him. He cries. I comfort him and chastise him--he knows better than to climb on it. Then I still don't let him upstairs. He gets to cry on the floor. </div>
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Eventually the big kids take the fallen down gate as justification to come downstairs and report it to me. I send them back up and don't care when the 2 year old follows them. The baby doesn't want to be comforted, she just wants to cry. So she goes to her room, too. Then I hear reports that the 4 year old has the missing piece from the gate (that I have been looking for and have already interrogated the children for) and is hitting people with it. He gets scolded and I get the piece. Everyone is sent to their rooms. There is crying. I sit. I blog. I pretend I am not alone.</div>
Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-3486905890987864722012-12-20T22:06:00.000-08:002012-12-20T22:06:47.321-08:00What is a Lie?<br />
I straight up lied to my son last night. Sigh. I don't like to do that. Sometimes need for sleep leads to desperation. I'm all for playing pretend, but I don't like lying. <br />
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This is the thing. My little man is the fiercest fighter in the world. He will never turn his back on danger. Dragons? No problem. Bad guys? Taken care of. Wild amimals and monsters? So easy. Supervillains? Bring 'em on. But there is one thing he is deathly afraid of: Bugs. He always has been and I don't know why. I can think of no negative bug experience in his past, but every flying insect is greeted with, "Bee!" and crying and running away. Every creeping insect is hailed, "Spider!" and I am ordered to smash them on sight. I remember him having terrifying dreams of spiders crawling on him when he was really little, and of imagining spiders in every shadow, but I had largely forgotten about it.<br />
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For the last little while R has been getting up in the early/very early morning and coming to my room. Typically I just let him in and snuggle til morning. Last night, however, I was up past midnight working on a project. I heard little feet upstairs after I knew all the kids were asleep. I finished my project then went up to bed and R was standing in the middle of the hall. When he saw me, he started crying. He said he was scared, but I brought him back to bed anyway (I still had things to clean up downstairs). He clung to my neck and said he was scared, scared, scared. I tried to get out of him what he was scared of--the dark isn't enough for me. Finally he explained that there are bugs waiting in the shadows to come get him. He went on and on about how he is terrified of the bugs. I first tried the never-successful scheme of telling him there were no bugs. As expected, it did nothing to assuage is fears. So I tried to expand upon his imagination to get rid of the problem. I asked him if he wanted me to shine a special laser into all the corners that would kill all the bugs. He said yes, so I went to get the flashlight that can have a red glowing handle. I really hoped that all he would be able to see in the mostly-dark was a red glow. I went all along the baseboards and shined the red light everywhere. Then I said, "There. No more bugs!" He smiled and laughed. And when I tried to leave he complained, "No! The bugs will get me!" "But I just killed all the bugs!" "No! The bugs are real!" "This is a real laser." "That is a flashlight." Shoot. Caught. Maybe it was the jzuuuurrrrrr sounds I made with my mouth while I shined it around. <br />
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Well, what do I do for a kid with a tenuous grasp on reality--the bugs are real, but the powers to defeat them are not. I tried to talk with him through what could defeat them. Finally he said we needed a shoe to stomp them. Awesome. I can let the kid sleep with a shoe and go to bed myself. So I went to get one of Kevin's shoes and ended up with a pair of his slippers that he never uses. I brought them to Rhys and asked if he wanted them on the floor by the bed or on the bed with him. "You hold them." "No, I am going to my own bed." and he cried and fussed--he needed me there to used the shoe to stomp the bugs while he slept. Then came the big, big lie. I don't count the laser as a lie. That was a pretend. But this time I made up a great big fib about those slippers. "Rhys, these are magic slippers. Santa Claus gave them to Daddy and he put magic inside. They stomp bugs all by themselves when you are asleep." Rhys brightened all up, "Really? They are real magic?" Big lie #2: "Yes. They are real magic." He giggled and was very excited. I was excited, too, to leave him. But I was ahead of myself. He loved his magic slippers, and he still didn't want me to leave. <br />
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I laid down and cuddled him for a while, then woke up cold and stiff with no blanket on at 7:20 am. I gently slid my arms out from around the sleeping him and as soon as I stood he sat up and started to cry. I thought I was through with this when he graduated from his crib. I finally said, "Do you want to sleep in Willow's bed?" "Yes." So Willow got a surprise visitor to cuddle with her for the rest of the morning while I hurried downstairs to hide the evidence of the previous nights workshop before kids got up. Then I turned up the heater in my room to thaw out before climbing in my own bed and praying the kids would let me sleep for a couple of hours.<br />
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I thought that would be the end of things, until I found Willow bringing this strange pair of Daddy's slippers that had mysteriously found their way into her room downstairs to put them away. I then had to explain to her and Delilah, who was helping them clean their room, what they were doing there. Agh! Multiplication of lies! As I tucked Rhys in, I made sure that he was content with the slippers on his bed with him, and Willow asked, "Are they really real magic?" and I said, "Yes! They are really real." "And they only work when we are asleep?" "Yep." "I don't know about this," half smiling, half unsure. Willow is one smart cookie. I sat down by her and she asked me, "is this really real magic?" "Yes." "Really?" I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "What do you think?" We had a conversation of whispers and meaningful looks, concluding with, "Rhysie needs to believe it so he can sleep tonight. OK?" "OK." I said good night again as I left the room and she said again from her bed, "I don't know about this."<br />
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What have I done?<br />
Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-62737841638363802242012-12-04T10:38:00.002-08:002012-12-20T22:16:45.913-08:00Empowering Mary: A Paradigm Shift on the Nativity StoryI've always felt at least a little uncomfortable with the common modern renditions of the conditions of Christ's birth: Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem, poor and alone. They reach the one inn in town, Mary obviously ready to pop, if not already in labor, only to find it crowded and run by a grumpy and inhospitable innkeeper who gruffly forces them to leave. In despair and urgency, they take refuge in a stable among the animals and filth. Alone and in the most squalid of circumstances imaginable, the Christ child is born and laid in the manger where the cows and goats continue to nibble the hay out from under his head. <br />
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The entire basis for this account is these 4 verses from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 2--<br />
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<div class="" style="background-color: #f9f6ed; border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" uri="/scriptures/nt/luke/2.4">
<a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8243465074873262390" name="4" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">4 </span>And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judæa, unto the city of David, which is called<sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/luke/2?lang=eng#" id="footnote3" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=luke&chapterUri=2&noteID=4a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">Bethlehem</a>; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)</div>
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<a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8243465074873262390" name="5" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">5 </span>To be taxed with Mary his <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/luke/2?lang=eng#" id="footnote4" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=luke&chapterUri=2&noteID=5a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">espoused</a> wife, being great with child.</div>
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<a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8243465074873262390" name="6" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">6 </span>And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.</div>
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<a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8243465074873262390" name="7" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">7 </span>And she brought forth her <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/luke/2?lang=eng#" id="footnote5" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=luke&chapterUri=2&noteID=7a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">firstborn</a> son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">b</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/luke/2?lang=eng#" id="footnote6" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=luke&chapterUri=2&noteID=7b" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #486fae; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">inn</a>.</div>
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When you read what is there, there really is so little that is concretely declared about the circumstances. I have no problem with people inventing details to flesh out a story that is so important to so many. The problem I have is with those invented details being perpetuated and taught as truth down the generations. <br />
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It started with the innkeeper. Even as a child, I was uncomfortable with the birth story having an invented villain. No where in the Bible does it mention an innkeeper, and yet he consistently makes an appearance, turning the holy couple away out of selfishness and greed. My first childish thoughts were, "That is so unfair. No one knows that he was mean or selfish. Maybe he was nice. He even let them stay in his stable. What, should he have kicked out someone who was already there? He did the best he could." It wasn't until later that I realized--there may never even have been an innkeeper at all. And I think that's the point. I can invent details that please myself, but I do not claim that is actually how things were, any more than the "traditional" details. <br />
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Some other thoughts are on the accomodations available to Mary and Joseph. The Joseph Smith Translation of the bible renders the word as "inns" rather than "inn," and some research into the original Greek (on the internet--don't judge) points out that the word translated as "inn" in this circumstance is not the same as that meaning a public house for travelers, but rather a guestroom in a private residence. This makes sense. Bethlehem is Joseph's hometown. It seems only natural that he would have family to stay with. But, being a time when everyone came home, the houses were probably crowded.<br />
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Since having my own babies, I have connected more with Mary in this story. The more I thought about her, the more I felt offended on her behalf even more than on the innkeeper's. Why should she be depicted as the simpering, wimpering, powerless victim? I personally think God would have picked a Mother for the Christ with a little more gumption than that. Having traveled to a different state in order to have a natural home birth, in the basement of a friend's house where the rest of the family who owned the house went about their business upstairs, I know what it is like to have a baby far from home, in a busy house that doesn't belong to you. And let me tell you, there could be plenty of "room" to live and eat and sleep at night and still "no room" to have a baby. And at this point my imagination started to run. I can only imagine Mary, coming on to her time, looking around that crowded house and thinking, "No. Way." OK. Say she is demure and kindhearted. She won't kick anyone else out of the house just for her, but still. She goes to Joseph.<br />
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Mary: There's no room here. I can't have my baby here.<br />
Joseph: There's no where else to go. The city is full.<br />
Mary: I don't know. Not here. <br />
Joseph: Mary, there is no where else.<br />
Mary: There has to be. Somewhere. I can't be here with all these people.<br />
Joseph: Where, Mary? Where? The entire city is full.<br />
Mary: I will find a place!<br />
Joseph: Where are you going to go? The barn?<br />
Mary: Yes!<br />
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Her nesting instincts kick in and she starts cleaning.<br />
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OK, that's the funny way it goes in my mind. Truthfully, there were probably many female relatives and a midwife or two there to anticipate her need for solitude, and clean for her. Nowhere says that Jesus was born on the first night they arrived. They had time to prepare for this journey. They would have planned time to prepare the circumstances for his birth. <br />
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Again, I emphasize that I am not claiming this is what happened. I am only saying that this narrative fits with the facts as laid out in the scriptures as well as any other does, and it feels a lot more respectful of the Holy Mother as a women and a powerful daughter of God. <br />
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And who ever thought I would be writing a feminist Christmas blog?<br />
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Make a Merry Christmas!Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-34080856041603883232012-11-04T23:19:00.001-08:002014-02-17T00:13:33.481-08:00Our Halloween<div class="mobile-photo">
Today: Mom! You spend so much time looking at your computer and your iPod, we don't have any time left to do things like look at clouds!</div>
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I was secretly thrilled at my 5-year-old daughter's rebuke. What does this have to do with Halloween? Well, I'll tell you.</div>
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First, unrelated to Halloween, I have been growing increasingly frustrated with my children's fixation on screen-delivered entertainment. I know that they are perfectly capable of entertaining themselves with other things when they can just stop thinking about the TV/computer/iPod for 2 minutes together, they just can't seem to get that far without weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I also realized that in order to enact this, I must set a better example. I use my screen time for more than just consumption, though--communication, financial organizing, trip planning, research, etc., but they can't tell the difference. All they know is mom is looking at a screen and telling me not to. And the truth is I also watch videos and play games, too. So I asked the kids to remind me to spend less time on the computer, even as I encourage them to do other things. </div>
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Now, the Halloween connection. </div>
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I have had a long and troubled history with Halloween. for the first, oh, 9 years or so, we celebrated it without a second thought. And then abruptly, my family stopped celebrating it. It was a slightly traumatic experience to begin with, but I came to embrace the reasoning--why should I celebrate witches and monsters and frightening experiences? There is nothing in that worthy of celebration. In fact, it is exactly not what I ever want to celebrate. Even digging deeper to the roots of the celebration didn't help. I don't need to worry about warding off spirits roaming the earth or anything like that. So no Halloween for me. But I surely did miss dressing up.</div>
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This was the status quo until I got married. Then I had another's opinion to balance with, and slowly, a growing family to teach, and things weren't so simple any more. Through many years of discussion and pondering with my patient husband, my narrow minded and somewhat self-righteous opinions began to soften. Not that my initial declaration wavered -I will not celebrate scary, creepy, or evil. And I will not celebrate pagan holidays. But that doesn't have to be what Halloween is. And that concludes the long path of Halloween self-discovery and brings me to my opinion today, which I know you are dying to hear:</div>
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Yes, the deep roots may be in the Pagan celebration of Samhain, but Halloween--All Hallows Eve--is a Christian holiday. I will not argue that All Saints, or All Hallows day was not placed on November 1st specifically because it was already a celebrated time by the people who converted from Paganism to Christianity. Obviously it was. But so what? The date of Christmas was chosen the same way. Does that make Christmas a less Christian holiday? What of the traditions surrounding the holiday pre-dating the Christian conversion? As long as they are in and of themselves innocuous and free from deference to other gods or dark powers, how is there any harm? Like a Christmas tree or a Yule log--we can make those things whatever we want.</div>
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With these decisions, Kevin and I have tried to carve out for our selves our own Halloween traditions. Yes, we will dress up ourselves and our children, but never as anything creepy, scary, or remotely evil. We will trade candy with our friends and neighbors, but I will never instruct my children to say, "Trick-or-Treat." Even if everyone else in the world argues with me, I know that that is play-acting at extortion, and that's not OK with me. And if we are celebrating it as a Christian holiday--All Hallows Eve, then we will spend the evening and the day in celebration of our beloved and righteous dead. (As LDS, we know that all of us are Saints, so it's really easy to find ones that we know to celebrate.) </div>
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So, this October 31st, we sat around, ate candy, and read from my grandmother's journal. I read to my 5 year old daughter my grandmother's memories of her first year in school. About how her father had a honey house, and her cousin was so disappointed when he discovered it wasn't actually made out of honey. And I read to her how one of Grandma Elaine's favorite things to do was lay on the grass and watch the clouds. And I was struck by the fun she had in her childhood without electronics. I pointed this out to my children, and encouraged them to find fun things to do outside of the house and lighted screens. </div>
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So when Willow brought up her intense new-found desire to watch the clouds, I made it happen--even though it had been raining all day. She got on a coat and took a tarp to the back yard to keep the wet of the grass off her. </div>
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Because of Halloween, I remembered to take the time to introduce my children to my grandmother--to learn of my grandmother myself--someone I never had the opportunity to know before she passed way, and someone that I come to love more and more the more I learn about her. And I love my mother all the more, knowing how much she loved her mother, and remembering the stories she has passed on to us about her. I love Halloween.</div>
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And here are some pictures, because I know you want to see them:</div>
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We gave out saran-wrapped brownies at our ward trunk-or-treat (at which I tell my kids to say, "treat-or-treat" because that's really all there is to it. Just give us candy. We know you will. Tricking is not an option.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzxVZeLCv7D608xWIokwyXB9UepK8wewXlqNkeFUxGP-fEYfYdZ4G3hT5AkJFXlTt4oRAPwuUAHF-0chvT5tuMMJ8iu0AgmZktGsncRuJjIZEBHBjAqAEqHmW4t6TFQp21RDg_FluZz5f/s1600/photo+1-765500.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzxVZeLCv7D608xWIokwyXB9UepK8wewXlqNkeFUxGP-fEYfYdZ4G3hT5AkJFXlTt4oRAPwuUAHF-0chvT5tuMMJ8iu0AgmZktGsncRuJjIZEBHBjAqAEqHmW4t6TFQp21RDg_FluZz5f/s400/photo+1-765500.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5807213539300145874" /></a></div>
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The kids getting candy. It was inside because of the rain. What a sugar frenzy!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCdFvXKs6EWu3exBa-TPk1ajvN_QN1nbBlQ1oAKBFY33XqgbGc0zmLjuF2hzNxPIN4r_bIVbLpL1PZBWnHHPmlHrnDvgLti1ChI6gBzEtmrXAWMVBsK2qfSha65YnaekrsVQ0B2YA7JJD/s1600/photo+2-770098.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCdFvXKs6EWu3exBa-TPk1ajvN_QN1nbBlQ1oAKBFY33XqgbGc0zmLjuF2hzNxPIN4r_bIVbLpL1PZBWnHHPmlHrnDvgLti1ChI6gBzEtmrXAWMVBsK2qfSha65YnaekrsVQ0B2YA7JJD/s400/photo+2-770098.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5807213557812028498" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpq9uXbW2x8pb6A_uPb0GWiczgsOd5PLRCO6Pf8yzUZ8ZnbFA2nhQYDIV9udqoMo1FRt5TJaIAmJvk6F9qdy_XYDWO9N_-GF5vhr4x94gw6XKHaAOnI62d5pAYybRAUmKxe68Jy9jVswm/s1600/photo+3-774227.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpq9uXbW2x8pb6A_uPb0GWiczgsOd5PLRCO6Pf8yzUZ8ZnbFA2nhQYDIV9udqoMo1FRt5TJaIAmJvk6F9qdy_XYDWO9N_-GF5vhr4x94gw6XKHaAOnI62d5pAYybRAUmKxe68Jy9jVswm/s400/photo+3-774227.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5807213574986153522" /></a></div>
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The kids and Aunt Delilah (a friend aunt), who recently moved in with us.</div>
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The kids and I were fairies and painted up our faces. Here's me:</div>
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I didn't get a picture of Kevin, the poor huntsman who stumbled upon our fairy circle--but just know that he never escaped us. :)</div>
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Happy Halloween!</div>
Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-79226048722374996492012-07-31T01:23:00.000-07:002012-07-31T01:23:00.520-07:00Good Mom Lunch<div class="mobile-photo">
For lunch, I fed my kids mostly carrots and broccoli. You can see what is left of the large broccoli head Rhys was eating. They each at most of their carrots, too. I think a large part of the appeal was the size of the food--whole, long carrots were very exciting. That and Ranch Dressing. Thank you, Hidden Valley.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkrcEPbtfVS4reuh_UZZEF2Yaok6IIoblSQLti-cQOOSnXd-LkaolBLWq8509SeN5T3eX7pZUBjUzRxWNo1HdFakTissmG1NlzYDUUYk9ScinZjneXZzqkyrTIVeHGSxkchpt5MKqxIhO/s1600/photo-786977.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5770779852380875602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkrcEPbtfVS4reuh_UZZEF2Yaok6IIoblSQLti-cQOOSnXd-LkaolBLWq8509SeN5T3eX7pZUBjUzRxWNo1HdFakTissmG1NlzYDUUYk9ScinZjneXZzqkyrTIVeHGSxkchpt5MKqxIhO/s400/photo-786977.JPG" /></a></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-20841784366379667622012-07-27T01:23:00.000-07:002012-07-29T22:24:12.029-07:00Helpers of Helpful Help<div class="mobile-photo">
It's way after the fact, but I though I'd get in a photo of the kids painting. This is my daughter and my nephew. You can see my son's arm on the left of the picture. They are so eager to participate in a way they label "help." It is so hard to figure out the balance between fostering their work ethic and getting things done. This day, I gave in to helping the helpers learn to help. And there was much rejoicing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBVvonwp6H8jhsOM8_jaqNEJVYGzFTMUjvm-tHTk1-J80wgR-WAeVBK2sh5bxH0irjAZ2gtlVTTGFvtrbMlpbKM3e1HGQTM70HkFIBG57LPlA0feKuiWFnNSoAczPXOo8how9Du6lw2aZ/s1600/photo-748807.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5757822202793207026" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBVvonwp6H8jhsOM8_jaqNEJVYGzFTMUjvm-tHTk1-J80wgR-WAeVBK2sh5bxH0irjAZ2gtlVTTGFvtrbMlpbKM3e1HGQTM70HkFIBG57LPlA0feKuiWFnNSoAczPXOo8how9Du6lw2aZ/s400/photo-748807.JPG" /></a></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-48200632468498404182012-07-26T01:20:00.000-07:002012-07-29T22:16:36.099-07:00On Names in the English Language--an exploration very limited in scopeOn Names in the English Language--an exploration very limited in scope
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<br />
Today I made a joke to myself that among Lists of virtue names that come to mind: Prudence, Faith, Charity, etc, there are two I have never heard included: Karen and Sharon. Ha, ha--caring and sharing. Ha, ha.
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And then I kept thinking about those names, because Karen sounds very similar to Carol, so I am naturally interested in it, and Sharon has it's similar--Cheryl--as well. And then there are Sherry and Carrie also. And as I thought about this I realized that not a single one of those uses the same set of letters to spell "care" or "share"--CARol, KARen, CARRie; SHARon, CHERyl, SHERRy. Of course I only used the most common spelling. I am fully aware of Karols and Sharyls, but how marvelous and convoluted our language is that the presumptive spelling of such similar sounding names are so very divergent.
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And speaking of virtue names--anyone have a particular favorite, or one they wish they would see (though perhaps wouldn't want to name their own child). For a long time, I have felt fond of Peace for a name--but it sounds like a boy to me and I don't know if I could get away with giving it to one of my sons. Maybe as a middle name. I also like Valiant and Vigil, but would have to use them judiciously because of our last name. What are your thoughts?
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Sent from my iPodCarolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-2413653438146958262012-07-05T22:14:00.000-07:002012-07-29T22:20:00.645-07:00Channeling Martin Luther<div class="mobile-photo">
Neoma wasn't home when we drafted our Declaration, so I felt the need to post it in a very prominent place. I didn't have a nail or a church door, so tape and the microwave door had to suffice.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpIgrs7gKXIqiDObqiJlDGCn2ZHMCYl6M132-OWSCDBdt2iR_xjZS2iaZRxMFdegkGXy31m2p6h3XK2yxt82iArxD5xhMnn-rkwSCKvbbUdAQnGn2QHPDYEOCz70FPmaqvuxpyrrw4oPm/s1600/photo-753990.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5762560433181394946" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpIgrs7gKXIqiDObqiJlDGCn2ZHMCYl6M132-OWSCDBdt2iR_xjZS2iaZRxMFdegkGXy31m2p6h3XK2yxt82iArxD5xhMnn-rkwSCKvbbUdAQnGn2QHPDYEOCz70FPmaqvuxpyrrw4oPm/s400/photo-753990.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-6136788275764714882012-07-04T09:55:00.003-07:002012-07-29T22:24:50.513-07:00How We Are Celebrating Independence Day<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">
<span style="color: #463e3e;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Declaration
of Independence</span></span></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">
<span style="color: #463e3e;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">When
in the Course of family events, it becomes necessary for one people
to dissolve the residential bands which have connected them with
another, and to assume among the households of the earth, the
separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of
Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of
mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them
to the separation.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">
<span style="color: #463e3e;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">We
hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal,
etc, etc, etc. This being the case, and we having enjoyed our time
immensely here in this house and with these people, we catagorically
state that we have suffered under no form of abuses, userpations, or
attempts at absolute Despotism from our kind and generous
Householders. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid
world.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">
<span style="color: #463e3e;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">They
have allowed us nearly half the space in their home, though we did
not contribute half of the household's costs. <br />They have provided
babysitting almost whenever we needed it, with no thought to ask for
remuneration.<br />They have allowed us to eat their food without a
just reckoning of expenses.<br />They have lent us their more reliable
car for long road trips.<br />They have repeatedly put themselves to
considerable inconvenience in order to aid in our endeavors.<br />They
have loved and served us in all ways with selflessness and
compassion.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">
<span style="color: #463e3e;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">In
every stage of these Generosities We have Expressed Meager Thanks in
most weak terms: Our repeated Expressions have been wholly
inadequate. A Family whose character is thus marked by every act
which may define a Saint, is in need of Greater Thanks.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">
<span style="color: #463e3e;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;">We,
therefore, the Members of the Vezzani Family, appealing to the
Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do,
by Authority of the good People of this Family, solemnly publish and
declare, That this Family is, and of Right ought to be Free and
Independent; that the Gould Family is entire absolved of all
responsibility to provide Shelter, Sustenance, and Live-in Childcare
Services; that the Vezzani Family has full responsibility to Maintain
a Home, Feed Themselves, etc, etc . And for the support of this
Declaration, with a firm reliance on the ever continuing family ties
and generosity which will undoubtedly continue even without
co-habitation, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our
Fortunes and our sacred Honor.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Carol E. C. Vezzani</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kevin L. Vezzani</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Willow L. Vezzani</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Rhys M. Vezzani</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-56051304718765258152012-05-20T22:36:00.001-07:002012-05-20T22:36:32.476-07:00No Summary Possible<div class="mobile-photo">
I just couldn't think of a title for this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGGyCLoVYak6Sx38zHZBULNFZWVN6J-RFUHE9uLciQ-SMElNwr4XcqxNbiZt0dbiUM1L1FeCLKzRmiwbB1F-tOEjrwlYMvR-Ojiw0lOMFj_eEMkoDq_zeVhW7eOsxLBwLZIZqaeh5cFXf/s1600/photo-775395.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5744799118200898306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGGyCLoVYak6Sx38zHZBULNFZWVN6J-RFUHE9uLciQ-SMElNwr4XcqxNbiZt0dbiUM1L1FeCLKzRmiwbB1F-tOEjrwlYMvR-Ojiw0lOMFj_eEMkoDq_zeVhW7eOsxLBwLZIZqaeh5cFXf/s400/photo-775395.JPG" /></a></div>
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I recently took a basket full of belts and cording used with our medieval garb out of the top of the closet and it has been in easy reach in the kids' room recently. Rhys came upstairs draped in belts and cords using his sword backwards as a firehose to spray out all the fire that was everywhere. He is sans shirt due to efforts to avert disaster of the white-Sunday-shirt-meets-spaghetti-sauce variety. He was just so enthusiastic about his rescue hero duties while trailing vines of all shapes and sizes that I couldn't keep myself from laughing.</div>
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I love that kid!</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-29083926033640636142012-05-06T01:04:00.000-07:002012-05-06T01:04:10.648-07:00With Both Feet<div class="mobile-photo">
Today was a glorious day. The Unofficial Event was the Sargentry Midterms--as succinctly as I can put it, and to the best of my understanding, it is a teaching event to help Sargentry candidates learn the various things they need to know to become a Sargent at Arms--the basics of archery, heavy fighting, horsemanship, dancing, geography of the SCA "known world", arts and sciences, etc. Which makes it also an excellent social gathering. It was at a member's home in the woods--rolling land nestled in forest with chickens, goats, a horse, and mud. We spent much of our time under pavillions like this:</div>
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Again, though I thought it was going to be a family event, my children were the only ones there. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2L0iJy539WpeqYZ1P9cf61BZoBFXuAza_DgzUop-Y4YyNuHBnR-bRQnvCukqjrJKTbD6aZyvrpHMFNHOFg3GDw_xV3tz_rl5IouvQx9w8YWDjV8g2_t6pqDHxgnUNScMCDkMWWaxCTDoB/s1600/photo+2-795644.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5739303791911777186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2L0iJy539WpeqYZ1P9cf61BZoBFXuAza_DgzUop-Y4YyNuHBnR-bRQnvCukqjrJKTbD6aZyvrpHMFNHOFg3GDw_xV3tz_rl5IouvQx9w8YWDjV8g2_t6pqDHxgnUNScMCDkMWWaxCTDoB/s400/photo+2-795644.JPG" /></a><br />
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They didn't mind, though, once they found the animals and sticks.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgKWJqvT3kBOJm1OcZlPU3j3z3O7gmL_c2vBADZspapJptvLqAJFBXXN303jIQgG4IlqFMqo_g5DuE4fco8PLtZOAVUcdqvirmWIUhPsi8fbGy4CV86UOIW3pot5J7Kbt3LZILoJH5QSl/s1600/photo+3-796969.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5739303798511762130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgKWJqvT3kBOJm1OcZlPU3j3z3O7gmL_c2vBADZspapJptvLqAJFBXXN303jIQgG4IlqFMqo_g5DuE4fco8PLtZOAVUcdqvirmWIUhPsi8fbGy4CV86UOIW3pot5J7Kbt3LZILoJH5QSl/s400/photo+3-796969.JPG" /></a><br />
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I was so happy today. The only day I can remember smiling more constantly was my wedding day. I felt completely at ease, because I decided I wasn't expecting anything. I wasn't waiting for anyone to come take care of me. I was there to be as I was and to enjoy whatever was there. And the more I observed, the more I liked these people I was getting to know. They way the interact with each other, their take on the world, their joy in reenacting the middle ages. And most of all, I loved catching sight of my children tumbling across the hills, grinning, in garb. I love that my son never questioned why I put him in a dress and told him not to wear pants. I felt like my heart would melt and burst at the same time as I watched them. "I should have been here all along," I kept hearing the voice in my head, "I should have been here all along."<br />
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Because I cast off misgivings, I introduced myself to everyone (sorry if I missed anyone), and felt free and happy to converse with them. I was not embarrassed by what I did not know, or by forgetting names (someday I probably will be, if I persist), or by knowing some things that others didn't. I was happy and at ease. And I can't wait for Kevin to join me here. <br />
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Some videos of Rhys today (he was a little show-stealer):<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/51WbQ41zPc8?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kweLCK2rlyA?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Here they are watching the fighters set up the arena<br />
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Then it is their turn:</div>
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At the end of the day, we all felt like this:<br />
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Here's to many more good times to come.</div>
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<br /></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-23444576090470926012012-05-06T00:42:00.000-07:002012-05-06T00:42:56.613-07:00Jumping In. . .<br />
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My husband likes to say that he met his wife in the middle ages. What he is joking about is that we met through <a href="http://qands.wordpress.com/">the Quill and the Sword</a>, <a href="http://home.byu.edu/home/">BYU</a>'s<a href="http://clubs.byu.edu/organization/NDc1MjUwNTUtMDAwMC0xNTgzNg==/profile"> medieval history club</a>. Almost my entire social experience in college was tied up in that club and the friends I made through it--even my marriage. Thankfully, my marriage was not so tied up in it as to suffer from our graduation and removal from BYU and The Club, as it is usually simply referred to. However, my social life did suffer. I have tried various things through the years to make friends, particularly to make friends outside of church, but even when I joined a group or plugged along at some group activity, doggedly going and smiling at everyone, and usually genuinely enjoying myself, I still felt a little out of place. Kevin and I even looked up and started attending activities with the<a href="http://www.porte-de-leau.org/"> local</a> <a href="http://www.sca.org/">SCA</a> <a href="http://www.baronyofmadrone.net/">group</a> shortly after we moved to <a href="http://www.antir.sca.org/">Washington</a>. I was really looking for that close-knit kinship that I had lost, and I wanted to find it, but I didn't. People were friendly, but we didn't really make any friends. Our attendance petered out after a couple of months and, though we always intended to "someday" we haven't ever gone back.</div>
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You see, I've never been very good at making friends (shock!) I am very good at being friendly (no shock), but I've never known how to become friends. Every strong friendship I've ever had has seemed to happen entirely on its own without my direction. I still don't know how. But I think I've made a major discovery over these last few years of wanting and trying and never figuring it out: No one else knows, either.</div>
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I know one thing that initially made me feel very comfortable at the club was that on my first day there, the club president saw me walk in, came up to me, and started talking to me. It wasn't just a, "Hi, what's your name, nice to see you here," and move on. He actually had a conversation with me, and then he introduced me to some other people in the room with whom I got into a conversation before he drifted off. It may sound silly, but I learned that first day that he was married, and somehow it made his friendliness and attention seem more genuine, because I knew there was no pretension or ulterior motives--why would he be putting up a front of friendliness when he had already gotten a wife. It must be real. His wife, just a few years our senior, went on to mother us all through the subsequent years. And I made friendships through this club, through this group of mismatched misfits drawn together through medieval mania, that are still the strongest I have. Feeling so welcomed and comfortable kept me coming back. Coming back over and over, experiencing wonderful and stressful and funny and exhausting things together over and over made these people like family. And I love those people. They are the best group of people I have ever known. I could go on ad infinitum, ad nauseum, about all of the good qualities they embody in general as a group, but I won't. Because thinking about them all is making me cry right now.</div>
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And so I kept looking for the place, for the people to reach out to me and make me comfortable again--comfortable like family, comfortable like church. And I wasn't finding it.<br />
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I don't know what clicked for me suddenly this week, but I decided that when we move, I want to jump in to the SCA again. Many of the our old Clubbie friends (and even some college friend who were not members of the Club then) are currently memebers of the <a href="http://www.artemisia.sca.org/">SCA in Utah</a> and watching and listening to their activities set me pining. We would be moving to a<a href="http://www.aquaterra.antir.sca.org/"> new Barony</a> and it would be an opportunity to start fresh. On a whim, I looked up the new Barony and saw on it's calendar a social gathering--for that night (last Tuesday). There were no other social gatherings scheduled in the near future. I guessed that it was a monthly meeting, and suddenly, I didn't want to wait a month to get started. <br />
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I dithered about it for most of the morning, but finally decided that I would take my children and introduce them to the middle ages that night. I spent quiet time in the afternoon sewing little tunics and sifting through my old garb. I threw the clothes on my kids, rushed them through dinner, and hurried out the door.<br />
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The activity, though the description sounded family friendly, had no other children in attendance. I had made a decision, however, and I was not going to be deterred. I wanted to be there. Not just there at that activity at that moment, but I wanted to be there, in that group, in my life. I wanted to belong there. I wanted to be comfortable there, and I wasn't going to hang back waiting for someone to welcome me. <br />
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I am not shy, but I can be reticent if I feel out of place, especially if I feel like others think I am out of place. But a strange assurance gripped me--I was not out of place. No matter what anyone else may or may not think--This is going to be My Place. And so I was not reticent. When someone made eye contact with me, I walked up to him and introduced myself. I told him I was new and what my experience was and that I wanted to be part of this. He introduced me to a few more people, and I kept talking with them until I felt like I should be talking to them. It was a little awkward for my children, because the room was full of strange-looking strangers, but I knew the awkwardness would pass for them with time, so I petted and assured them, and pursued my personal course toward belonging.<br />
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I smiled and spoke to people, and did not let them assume I was here with someone else. I am here <i>by</i> myself. I am here to meet <i>you</i>. I learned about future children's activities and upcoming events. The children warmed up a little bit when I led them to a table with pot-luck goodies and let them share a couple helpings of chocolate cake. I sat at a table and introduced myself to women working there. I was told about an unofficial event happening this weekend. And I decided to go. <br />
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Today I took down the medieval dress that has been decorating my wall for the last 6 years. I wanted a hand project to work on at the event today, and it has unfinished embroidery on the sleeve. I haven't worked on it since I left medieval social life. It has paralleled the fate of my medieval passions since then--displayed, but not lived. It's time to change that. The dress won't be going back up there for a long time.
</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-3646083515240407302012-04-27T02:12:00.000-07:002012-04-27T02:12:00.130-07:00Eager to Agree2012-February-19<br />
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In our church during our sacrament meeting services, we in the congregation are not often called on for active participation. We say "Amen," to the prayers and sing the songs, but otherwise mostly sit and listen. One exception to this is during the "business" portion in the beginning of the meeting where we are informed of people who have been called to or released from positions in the church. As these are done, we are asked to raise our hands if we agree with the changes and to show our support. When there are changes at the level just higher than our local congregation--the stake, a member of the High Council visits to present them. Usually when they do, the High Councelor also gives a talk later in the meeting. <br />
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Today, a High Councelor came to present some stake business during which time I repeatedly prompted my 4 year old to raise her hand at the appropriate time. Later on in the meeting, the High Councelor came to the pulpit again, this time to give a talk. As my daughter saw him, her eyes brightened and she watched him intently, enthusiastically waving her hand high in the air at about every other sentence. It took me a moment to realize what she was doing, and I had to stifle my laughter as I whispered that he wasn't asking us to raise our hands anymore. <br />
<br />Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-51955549974664477722012-04-26T10:21:00.001-07:002012-04-26T10:22:35.030-07:00A Moment of Presence2012-February-19<br />
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I think that I spend most of my life disconnected. This is largely an innate self preservation instinct--if I am too aware of the world around me, there is too much sensory stimulation, it is exhausting, and I couldn't stand it for long. However, sometimes the Lord gives me what seem to be small glimpses of absolute and comprehensive reality: my heart being opened to feel, for a moment, pure charity for the man who is my husband; looking at my infant daughter and seeing her fully mature spiritual self smiling back at me, trusting and compassionate toward the imperfect sister she has chosen as her mother. Times like these remind me of what is really real--the gospel of Jesus Christ; the love and relationships we can have in families; and the simple and pure joy of being exactly where you are supposed to be, doing what you should be doing, fully engaged in this moment of eternity.<br />
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But most of the time is not like that--usually I just go through the motions of life--my body and part of my mind must be there, but I can hardly even remember what I was just doing when I am done with it. The real, deep part of me isn't there. I wish I could say that it was somewhere else deeply meaningful, but I don't think it is. I think it is just somewhere drifting in a stupor, waiting for the next moment of spiritual poignancy to wake it up, and pull it in to the present. <br />
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Today, I had a moment. I the most remarkable thing about it is how unremarkable each part of it was. I was sitting in Sacrament Meeting as I do every week, getting ready to sing one of the songs. I opened the hymnal and started to sing. My children were wiggling around me and I looked up toward the chorister. Suddenly, it was as if I had been looking through fuzzy glasses that were suddenly removed, earmuffs fell away from my ears, and my senses opened up directly into my heart. It wasn't just the power of the music, but I felt that, as well as the power of a congregation of faithful Saints gathered to express their faith unified in song. I felt the power, not only of the song, but of the organization that pulls from the lay members of the congregation to fill roles like organist, chorister, music director, bishop, deacon, clerk. I saw all of the normal, mundane aspects of the routine of worship I engage in every week, for just a moment, with a clarity that elevated it to the divine. And I was there. All of me was there, experiencing, absorbing, participating. Every ounce of me was singing with full voice, and at the same time, hyper-attuned to the activity going on around me. I felt like everything around me, whether I was physically looking at it or not, was open to my observation. I saw, I heard, I felt everything. And I saw the role that these routines play in cultivating our very real and eternal spirits. <br />
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At the time, the day this happened, I started writing it, but only got as far as "I was sitting in Sacrament Meeting" and was pulled away. The rest I wrote just now, trying to remember the event. And I can't do it justice, because the moment has passed and I know a large part of me is somewhere else, drifting again. I'm going through the motions and trying to do all of the important things, but I'm rarely all here. But I wish that I could share what I do remember of how unique the experience was--I have previously glimpsed the divine as my heart and understanding were opened to see how the people I am interacting with in the moment are connected to me in an eternal way--feelings of pure charity for others, seeing another's eternal presence--but this time, it wasn't about any other person, not even really about myself. It was about life. Every moment and all the mundane motions that we go through to get through. At the time, going to church felt like a motion--something I was doing because it was supposed to help me, it was where I was supposed to be, and it did help me in general--by the occasional inspiration thought that penetrated my stupor and my children's attention grabbing rowdiness, and by helping me qualify for divine assistance by doing my best. So, I was as there as I could be, and I was content to be there, and I generally felt good about where I was and what I was doing, at least with the part of me that was there to feel anything. <br />
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That's when my heart and mind were opened, and all of me came rushing back to experience it. I was wholly, completely there, and along with this emotional and spiritual presence came an awareness of the pertinence of the activity I was engaged in. I always knew that worshiping together was good and important, but in that moment I felt it. The difference between belief and testimony, the difference between thinking it's a nice idea and knowing it's true. I felt my whole soul present and participating. I can't even remember the song we were singing, but the words and melody burst from my heart. I felt the presence of not just other bodies in the room, but other spirits. Other souls, a whole chapel full of souls, jointly seeking communion with God, and that was powerful. It didn't even last the whole meeting, just for a little while, but it was enough.<br />
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I am so grateful for these moments peppered throughout my life--personal, private reminders of the greater whole outside this life, and within my self.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-25705130000172500692012-04-24T02:12:00.000-07:002012-04-22T17:49:11.658-07:00Rabid Frog<div class="mobile-photo">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5jQn1jFyVC-TCi2wS4HFRbP83lbiw2w93k132VJKchbV2vqkLIPVpNEbgYAFTaMCixzytMl1FrFI1cBgr2UElPXU6LgSW3PHY9x39xclCYE4sOGJuMaItGfiSvJi9Rr2jgUUz7-LQA6G/s1600/photo-717992.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719483901556309090" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5jQn1jFyVC-TCi2wS4HFRbP83lbiw2w93k132VJKchbV2vqkLIPVpNEbgYAFTaMCixzytMl1FrFI1cBgr2UElPXU6LgSW3PHY9x39xclCYE4sOGJuMaItGfiSvJi9Rr2jgUUz7-LQA6G/s400/photo-717992.JPG" /></a><br />
That's what we get for feeding him cottage cheese without a bib.
</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-81303122341615483392012-04-23T02:12:00.000-07:002012-04-23T02:12:00.172-07:00Mandarin Elephant<div class="mobile-photo">
Our favorite way to peel clementines:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimnQXdUVFZT3tBwa51oNPdVRpsPYBPRd664Hw570lByO6ePc7nE1i-588baJXJ2sKIjZWnfdL2ifiKeCMelAhl59hE73eiDeM0Hv30vdK5FhQSYWRNEhy_s-b5NNfqv9cSVUWwQBNNjX4L/s1600/photo-768101.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706064923231730706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimnQXdUVFZT3tBwa51oNPdVRpsPYBPRd664Hw570lByO6ePc7nE1i-588baJXJ2sKIjZWnfdL2ifiKeCMelAhl59hE73eiDeM0Hv30vdK5FhQSYWRNEhy_s-b5NNfqv9cSVUWwQBNNjX4L/s400/photo-768101.JPG" /></a></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-67107664760549984932012-04-22T17:44:00.000-07:002012-04-22T17:44:55.904-07:00Meaningless Dreams?2011-November-5<br />
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I dreamt two nights ago that we got the children we have been desiring to foster. The person we've been working with to become licensed came to the door unexpectedly with all three children and told us, "You got them! Here they are!" I took the baby in my arms and I couldn't keep myself from crying. My already children and my new children started playing while I held the baby and cried, trying to listen to the rest of what the social worker was telling me. <br />
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I have had some crazy dreams at times. I have had dreams that we're undeniably messages, visions, if you will. I have had dreams from which I learned something or experienced something I could never have done in real life. And then I have had dreams that are very comforting and I wish I were dreaming truely, but I just cannot say that they are, because I don't know. <br />
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I have had meaningless dreams before. I have had dreams I really hope are meaningless (no, I don't actually want to be Spiderman punching hybrid supervillians in the face). And then there are dreams like this one. I hope and I want so badly for it to be true. But is it meaningless? Does it really have no reflection in reality? If nothing else, I recognize the peace and comfort that came through it as the peace of faith and trust in the Lord. Whatever is or is not in store for the future of our family, I know that He is in charge of it, and in the end all will be right , whole, and perfect. (If it isn't, it isn't the end yet!)<br />
<br />Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-65358021014918030372012-04-14T02:12:00.000-07:002012-04-14T02:12:00.302-07:00Why I'm not asleep right now.2012-03-11<br />
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I don't like it when my kids wet their beds. I don't like it, but I deal with it. What really gets me is when my kids wet MY bed. Then we have big trouble. <br />
My son crawled in bed with us this morning and then overflowed his diaper. I discovered it by the spreading warmth and damp where he was snuggled against my stomach. Yuck! So our bed got stripped and put into the laundry this morning. I didn't remember to put it into the dryer until after we got home from the fireside tonight. Luckily we had friends over to keep me awake until the dryer was done and I don't have to sit around sad and tired waiting for the dryer to beep, or sleep on the couch, which is actually quite comfortable, but harder to share with my husband. Instead, I heard the dryer beep while I was brushing my teeth and brought the clean sheets down to the bedroom wih me in the first place instead of forgetting until I discovered in dismay that my bed was not ready to fall into and having to go back up to the laundry room after already mentally preparing for sleep. <br />
So I was in my room with my laundry basket of newly cleaned linens and I sat by it on the edge of my<br />bed and realized that I did not want to get up. It seemed like too much work. So I pulled out my iPod to read blogs instead. And I kept cycling in my mind through the thoughts, "I want to lay down and pull covers over me. But you can't. You have to make the bed first. The sheets are right there. Get them. Yes. But that is effort. So I will just sit here a little longer. OK. . . Sitting is so much effort. I just want to lay down and pull covers over me. But I can't. The bed's not made. The sheets are right there. Get them. Yes. But that is even more effort. Sigh. Just sit here and read a little longer. <br />
Know what finally roused me our of my funk? I heard footsteps upstairs and thought how embarrassed I would be if my husband came down and found me sitting with the sheets next to me on an unmade bed, reading blogs instead of sleeping after I made such a big deal out if goingto bed early. So I heard footsteps and guiltily set down my iPod and started making the bed. I got up to the flat sheet being halfway on when it suddenly seemed like too much effort again (That, and I haven't heard any more footsteps), and here I am blogging to you about it instead of making actual progress again. <br />
Although I am getting to the point where continuing to stand by the side of my bed feels like more effort than finishing making the bed. Good thing the timing coincides with being done with everything I had to say. <br />
Good night.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-58491592538259473642012-04-13T02:12:00.000-07:002012-04-13T02:12:00.189-07:00Fashion a la Rhys<div class="mobile-photo">
Rhys has taken to hats, and currently, just one isn't enough. Here he is with 3. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87llvdvryU-qvGeuwOR1NN9D6SW31GUJpyHwA6VBumGrfE9x3-mXFyyFBdWIxXE3jP0uDm2TjEdTk519Ytp0EQr4IYwRKC5C6LiDq78oWiCgnSl-04jAp0o_x6PRbWVN9KY6EedHG5Iuw/s1600/photo-765661.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729424810043275730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87llvdvryU-qvGeuwOR1NN9D6SW31GUJpyHwA6VBumGrfE9x3-mXFyyFBdWIxXE3jP0uDm2TjEdTk519Ytp0EQr4IYwRKC5C6LiDq78oWiCgnSl-04jAp0o_x6PRbWVN9KY6EedHG5Iuw/s400/photo-765661.JPG" /></a></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8243465074873262390.post-44605385935320584742012-04-12T02:12:00.000-07:002012-04-12T02:12:01.298-07:00Escape!<div class="mobile-photo">
I didn't notice that one of the kids had opened the door, but this boy did.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbsTNhVcIzsDw2uViyabTeAjAvUwkmWyG9yq6z6mnm9HLYp-zG5H3nGvDszc9sCP3vBdnLvlNNBseBbS5pbFdeC05o0NPUF3LLlQJHUohlBy5myItn7ASSXiZHY_zg_i-2onPfkeaD6Pif/s1600/photo-723323.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729424624718769218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbsTNhVcIzsDw2uViyabTeAjAvUwkmWyG9yq6z6mnm9HLYp-zG5H3nGvDszc9sCP3vBdnLvlNNBseBbS5pbFdeC05o0NPUF3LLlQJHUohlBy5myItn7ASSXiZHY_zg_i-2onPfkeaD6Pif/s400/photo-723323.JPG" /></a></div>
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I didn't even know he was outside until I saw him through the window, happily grubbing in the old leaves.</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12798756205391129473noreply@blogger.com0