<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:15:04.435-07:00</updated><category term='computer crash'/><category term='wicked'/><category term='Singing'/><category term='Yard of the month'/><category term='fake cry'/><category term='Cancer'/><category term='graduation'/><category term='surfing'/><category term='sisters'/><category term='ULCER'/><category term='krazy three weeks'/><category term='old bike'/><category term='Mac-n-cheese'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='foot'/><category term='mother of the year'/><category term='Swiss Days'/><category term='family vacay'/><category term='Cowgirl Cadillac'/><category term='Train'/><category term='College'/><category term='Madeline'/><category term='trash to treasure'/><category term='Prom'/><category term='orchard'/><category term='Camera'/><category term='Dish Gloves'/><category term='UTA'/><category term='Pool Monday'/><category term='Vegetables'/><category term='leg sick'/><category term='witches night out'/><category term='quilting'/><category term='Costco'/><category term='apples'/><category term='Biking'/><category term='halloween'/><category term='fishing pole'/><category term='Round Up'/><category term='Little Red Riding Hood'/><category term='picking'/><category term='spiderman'/><category term='4th of july'/><category term='motherland'/><category term='potting bench'/><category term='fall'/><category term='Grandma Harris'/><category term='widsom teeth'/><category term='buzz lightyear'/><category term='Rodeo'/><category term='Christmas Vacation'/><category term='cheerleaders'/><category term='Princess Festival'/><category term='40'/><category term='McKenna'/><category term='Thanksgiving Point'/><category term='Matt'/><category term='utah lake'/><category term='Kindergarten'/><category term='Small Town'/><category term='Easter'/><category term='cat'/><category term='violin'/><category term='loving husband'/><category term='Hokey Pokey'/><category term='Parade'/><category term='Charley Jenkins'/><category term='Husband'/><category term='All American Rejects'/><category term='Magic Kingdon'/><category term='lessons'/><category term='Man of the House'/><category term='Summer 2009'/><category term='talking'/><category term='super hero'/><category term='grandma Chris'/><category term='Sisters day out'/><category term='basement flood'/><category term='Mari'/><category term='First Day of School'/><category term='Reno'/><category term='TRAX'/><category term='Christmas letter'/><category term='Children&apos;s museum'/><category term='surgery'/><category term='year in review'/><category term='olympics'/><category term='Jade'/><category term='Breakfast Casserole'/><category term='rodeo 2009'/><category term='winter blah'/><category term='madeline&apos;s room'/><category term='Dinosaur Museum'/><category term='Stats'/><category term='trick-or-treat'/><category term='Grandma Bronson'/><category term='pumpkins'/><category term='Thelma and Louise'/><category term='costumes'/><category term='lips fall off'/><category term='sick at churck'/><category term='PTA'/><category term='jeep'/><category term='San Fernando'/><category term='bike ride'/><category term='zucchini'/><category term='Arts in the park'/><category term='Montgomery'/><category term='germs'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='run for my money'/><category term='family reunion'/><category term='Eric'/><category term='California'/><category term='party'/><category term='goals'/><category term='Grad night'/><category term='Dr. Winn'/><category term='Mark'/><category term='Rico Suave'/><category term='Lehi Round Up'/><category term='french'/><category term='Gives you Hell'/><category term='Texas'/><category term='recipe'/><category term='hawaii'/><category term='G.I. Joe'/><category term='Disneyland'/><category term='Mission'/><category term='Last day of school'/><category term='San Francisco'/><category term='Garden'/><category term='purse'/><category term='Preschool'/><category term='talker'/><category term='snow'/><category term='Jack'/><category term='FrontRunner'/><category term='Mother&apos;s Day'/><title type='text'>The Red Hen</title><subtitle type='html'>Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. . . It's about learning to dance in the rain.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6305743386939078796</id><published>2009-11-13T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T07:00:10.072-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lips fall off'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talker'/><title type='text'>Daily Madeline</title><content type='html'>The other day we were driving in the car, just Madeline and I. As usual she was talking NON-STOP. I like to say the if her eyes are open, her mouth is going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there we are driving along, Madeline talking and talking and talking, while I can barely get in an "uhh huh" or "Yep" or "Hmm". If I don't make appropriate noises she accuses me of not listening to her and then demands that I turn my rear view mirror down so I can SEE her while she talks to me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I hear is "Hey Mom, do you know what will happen if you talk too much?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, do you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;LIPS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; will &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;FALL OFF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!! This means that &lt;strong&gt;YOU &lt;/strong&gt;should stop talking so much!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh really?" &lt;em&gt;(my first real words of the conversation)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline: "Yeah, so you better be careful!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly could think of nothing to say. I guess you always see the beam in your neighbor's eye instead of the mote in your own &lt;em&gt;(or is that the other way around? I can never remember.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6305743386939078796?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6305743386939078796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6305743386939078796' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6305743386939078796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6305743386939078796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/11/daily-madeline.html' title='Daily Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-780220524933129655</id><published>2009-11-11T14:20:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T22:11:22.064-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='super hero'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='costumes'/><title type='text'>Halloween 2009</title><content type='html'>I LOVE Halloween! It is one of my favorite holidays. I don't really like the blood and gore aspect, but more of the fun, witchy part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For about the past 4 years we have hosted a Halloween party at our house for my family. I am the oldest of eight kids &lt;em&gt;(7 girls and 1 boy, in case you're keeping score)&lt;/em&gt;. Each year everyone wanted to see the kid's costumes, and even though we all live relatively close, it seemed an impossible task for Halloween night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, me being the party queen and having a husband who indulges me, I decided that we should have an annual Bronson Family Halloween Party, . . . and . . . . a tradition was born!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always have yummy food - of course everyone knows that you can't get together without something tasty! Then all of the adults go into a different room of my house with their candy and the kids go from door to door and "Trick-or-Treat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted this Halloween to be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Super".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you just love the Captain America costume? Mark wore this to work for his office Halloween party and won the $100 Grand Prize!! He said it was worth all the crazy looks he got while driving on the freeway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuH8ADz7pI/AAAAAAAABNQ/CtdeI-w1d1Y/s1600-h/Capt+America+_+Supergirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403061642838929042" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuH8ADz7pI/AAAAAAAABNQ/CtdeI-w1d1Y/s400/Capt+America+_+Supergirl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we had quite a crop of Super Heros. Here we have Jack - aka Darth Vader, Hans- aka a Storm Trooper, and Bronson aka Spiderman. Love Bronson's mean tough guy face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHpkoV76I/AAAAAAAABNI/atUvhTcBWg8/s1600-h/Super+Heros.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403061326238314402" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHpkoV76I/AAAAAAAABNI/atUvhTcBWg8/s400/Super+Heros.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course all of the Sisters get into the act as well.&lt;br /&gt;L-R: Norma, Jana, Julie, Sheryl, Breanna, Jade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHpd3awaI/AAAAAAAABNA/xEtk25r_Fj8/s1600-h/Sisters+Halloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403061324422496674" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHpd3awaI/AAAAAAAABNA/xEtk25r_Fj8/s400/Sisters+Halloween.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my sister Hollie - she's Hannah Montanna. &lt;em&gt;(flashing the "I Love You" sign instead of the "Rock On" sign.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHo-ovdWI/AAAAAAAABMw/a2sZkh864JM/s1600-h/Hollie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403061316039439714" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHo-ovdWI/AAAAAAAABMw/a2sZkh864JM/s400/Hollie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my sister Julie. She came dressed as an oven with two buns in it. She's expecting twins in April!! Clever Jules, clever!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG5YK2FRI/AAAAAAAABMA/IvdZwVOmA1Q/s1600-h/Julie+Buns+in+Oven.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403060498259645714" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG5YK2FRI/AAAAAAAABMA/IvdZwVOmA1Q/s400/Julie+Buns+in+Oven.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my sister Julie &lt;em&gt;(aka Buns in the Oven Jules)&lt;/em&gt; with my neice Kat. Yep I did say NEICE! When she first came to the party, one of my other sisters, Doreen, didn't recognize her and thought that Jordan must have brought a friend!! I guess that she figured that since she had been working like a mexican in Grandpa's orchard for the past couple of weeks, she may as well dress the part. Seriously, I am totally diggin' that stache!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFySezKGI/AAAAAAAABL4/AS8S5XVKY1A/s1600-h/Julie+_Kat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403059276962015330" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFySezKGI/AAAAAAAABL4/AS8S5XVKY1A/s400/Julie+_Kat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's my nephew Drake aka Rasta Man. We don't overlook any ethnic group in my family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG5hihrzI/AAAAAAAABMI/mM_NOxCEJN4/s1600-h/Drake+Rasta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403060500774891314" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG5hihrzI/AAAAAAAABMI/mM_NOxCEJN4/s400/Drake+Rasta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The little ladies: Breanna, Oakley and Madeline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFyJXa9EI/AAAAAAAABLw/aLi38s-5wnw/s1600-h/Girls+Halloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403059274515149890" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFyJXa9EI/AAAAAAAABLw/aLi38s-5wnw/s400/Girls+Halloween.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I was the master of ceremony, after we all had sufficient time to digest our food and the kids were about to start a mutiny, I called them all together with their bags to begin the Trick-or-Treating. This is my official "I'm in charge" stance. The boots TOTALLY rocked the costume! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHouJxLgI/AAAAAAAABMo/vZWfL6HFJGA/s1600-h/JBH+Halloween+Super+Girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403061311614561794" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHouJxLgI/AAAAAAAABMo/vZWfL6HFJGA/s400/JBH+Halloween+Super+Girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't get too many pictures of the Trick-or-Treating action since they were all pretty speedy, but I did manage to get one of my neice Lily. I think she is still unsure about just &lt;em&gt;taking&lt;/em&gt; candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG50T-7QI/AAAAAAAABMQ/OCB6SOb6reY/s1600-h/Lily.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403060505814166786" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG50T-7QI/AAAAAAAABMQ/OCB6SOb6reY/s400/Lily.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he was done, Hans brought his candy to Hollie for her to "check" it. REALLY?!? - you are worried about the quality? Hollie was only too happy to oblige, seeing as how she took some of her favorites for closer inspection!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFx_BxeMI/AAAAAAAABLo/H7gxmNNHmMY/s1600-h/Hans_Hollie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403059271739996354" style="WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFx_BxeMI/AAAAAAAABLo/H7gxmNNHmMY/s400/Hans_Hollie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Madeline - I think she's enjoyed one too many chocolate bars!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG6fTWkzI/AAAAAAAABMg/8qH0ejGqtNg/s1600-h/MEH+Chocolate+Face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403060517354246962" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG6fTWkzI/AAAAAAAABMg/8qH0ejGqtNg/s400/MEH+Chocolate+Face.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next night (Halloween) Jack, aka Darth Vader informed me that he was too big to go Trick-or-Treating with his PARENTS and asked if he could go with his friends Connor and Mayson - - and THEIR Dad, Jack aka Big Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG6Mn0kzI/AAAAAAAABMY/B8baDi7VD48/s1600-h/Darth+Vader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403060512339825458" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuG6Mn0kzI/AAAAAAAABMY/B8baDi7VD48/s400/Darth+Vader.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I called Connor's Dad and told him that obviously &lt;strong&gt;THEY&lt;/strong&gt; were &lt;strong&gt;MUCH&lt;/strong&gt; cooler than we were and asked if it would be OK of Jack went around the neighborhood with them. He looks pretty happy about that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHpCppHYI/AAAAAAAABM4/WRQHpzUoiws/s1600-h/JRH+Darth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403061317116960130" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuHpCppHYI/AAAAAAAABM4/WRQHpzUoiws/s400/JRH+Darth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack is a sweet boy though. While he was out he went to a house where they were giving out lip gloss and he asked if he could have one for his sister since he didn't think she would make it that far. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He also scored two pair of these goggles. They were the hit of the night! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFxvm5vYI/AAAAAAAABLg/t8iFpWSDB6s/s1600-h/JRH+Zombie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403059267600760194" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFxvm5vYI/AAAAAAAABLg/t8iFpWSDB6s/s400/JRH+Zombie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He actually got one pair for Madeline and one for himself, but she refused to put them on saying they were "too creepy". However, Mark was a willing participant in the scary eye fest! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later that night Mark put them on on the back of his head and told the kids that they had better behave since he had eyes in the back of his head and nothing would get past him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFxZ4ib6I/AAAAAAAABLY/fnRdLPWyBFU/s1600-h/116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403059261769150370" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuFxZ4ib6I/AAAAAAAABLY/fnRdLPWyBFU/s400/116.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-780220524933129655?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/780220524933129655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=780220524933129655' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/780220524933129655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/780220524933129655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween-2009.html' title='Halloween 2009'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvuH8ADz7pI/AAAAAAAABNQ/CtdeI-w1d1Y/s72-c/Capt+America+_+Supergirl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6050779877488916903</id><published>2009-11-11T10:32:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T14:20:40.782-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='orchard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='picking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apples'/><title type='text'>Fall 2009</title><content type='html'>My parents have apples - - LOTS of apples. Over 500 trees, the majority of which my sister Norma and I planted one year while in High School during our "Spring Break".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we all still lived at home the Fall season meant picking and selling apples. If you have never picked apples, let me tell you this is HUGE amounts of work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you have to pick them, then sort them as you put them into the boxes to make sure you don't get any bad ones. Then you top off the boxes and get them ready to load onto the tractor to be put in the barn and then onto trucks to take around town to sell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, selling is it's own kind of work. Loading the apples from the barn to the truck, constantly shifting and rearranging the boxes to make your display look nice, lifting the boxes into your customer's cars. You get the idea - lots of lifting = one bad back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year my neice Katherine, who is almost 16, was telling my sister Julie how she hoped that she didn't see anyone she knew while selling. Julie said "Well, how do you think I feel? I'm 32, pregnant and STILL selling apples!" Good Times - Good Times!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we have all grown up, moved away, and have our own families it is harder and harder to get back to help like we used to, but we all still try to do as much as we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I took Jack and Madeline with me since it &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; a family affair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline started out strong - look at those picking skills! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsi8u6aBgI/AAAAAAAABLQ/XuRY6Iw7rvQ/s1600-h/MEH+picking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402950604741543426" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsi8u6aBgI/AAAAAAAABLQ/XuRY6Iw7rvQ/s400/MEH+picking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she got distracted by the dog - Rocky. I think she is either trying to give him some sort of command or offer him an apple. I'm pretty sure he's not interested in either option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsi8X7k7PI/AAAAAAAABLI/fmj4kePkAU4/s1600-h/MEH+Rocky.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402950598572436722" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsi8X7k7PI/AAAAAAAABLI/fmj4kePkAU4/s400/MEH+Rocky.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she just settles for petting him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh7phw7uI/AAAAAAAABLA/qdEorORVcBo/s1600-h/MEH+Rocky+Pet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402949486604512994" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh7phw7uI/AAAAAAAABLA/qdEorORVcBo/s400/MEH+Rocky+Pet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we needed some boxes moved to a better location in the orchard so we could fill them. I knew just the two people who could fill the position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh7QiecxI/AAAAAAAABK4/e3g2UAX6WOM/s1600-h/MEH+Box+on+Head.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402949479896609554" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh7QiecxI/AAAAAAAABK4/e3g2UAX6WOM/s400/MEH+Box+on+Head.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Jack is trying the "No Look" approach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh7JfJfKI/AAAAAAAABKw/qHrutV9K-Tc/s1600-h/JRH+Box+on+head.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402949478003604642" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh7JfJfKI/AAAAAAAABKw/qHrutV9K-Tc/s400/JRH+Box+on+head.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that hard work Jack and his cousin Hans decide to pose for a photo op. Neither one looks thrilled - I think they are waiting for Grandpa to come back with the tractor so they can try to catch a ride!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh67hSlaI/AAAAAAAABKo/k6SMwFzMHss/s1600-h/JRH+Hans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402949474254493090" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh67hSlaI/AAAAAAAABKo/k6SMwFzMHss/s400/JRH+Hans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my neice Katherine. She's laughing because I just caught her &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; instead of &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;picking&lt;/span&gt;. Ohhh, BUSTED!! Notice that her basket around her neck is &lt;em&gt;empty&lt;/em&gt;. . . . hmmmm. Actually, she really is a hard worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh6ShrC_I/AAAAAAAABKg/Rq3U7NxoxX8/s1600-h/Kat+Orchard+Laugh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402949463250242546" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsh6ShrC_I/AAAAAAAABKg/Rq3U7NxoxX8/s400/Kat+Orchard+Laugh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of hard workers - - This is my nephew Drake. His job is to load the full boxes onto the tractor, ride around to the barn with my Dad and then unload them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshWr0uZkI/AAAAAAAABKQ/MpZfSEl4ZbE/s1600-h/Drake+Loading.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402948851565749826" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshWr0uZkI/AAAAAAAABKQ/MpZfSEl4ZbE/s400/Drake+Loading.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Madeline the Supervisor - she is making sure all the boxes get loaded properly, with the help of Grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshXE6EsaI/AAAAAAAABKY/Sng0v-IctuE/s1600-h/MEH+on+tractor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402948858299068834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshXE6EsaI/AAAAAAAABKY/Sng0v-IctuE/s400/MEH+on+tractor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Drake having some fun on the way to the barn! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshWbIXBbI/AAAAAAAABKI/JKmpFfBPi6Y/s1600-h/Drake+on+tractor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402948847084701106" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshWbIXBbI/AAAAAAAABKI/JKmpFfBPi6Y/s400/Drake+on+tractor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that hard work we decide to go to Grandpa's pumpkin patch and pick out a few pumpkins. Wait! Who gave that boy those HUGE pruners?!?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshV6UdFTI/AAAAAAAABJ4/AD9ZhLPsvVM/s1600-h/Pumpkin+Patch+JRH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402948838277059890" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshV6UdFTI/AAAAAAAABJ4/AD9ZhLPsvVM/s400/Pumpkin+Patch+JRH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, yeah, that would be ME - Another Mother of the Year incident! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshWIXRJII/AAAAAAAABKA/enWpz2G6lGM/s1600-h/Pumpkin+Patch+w+kids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402948842046956674" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SvshWIXRJII/AAAAAAAABKA/enWpz2G6lGM/s400/Pumpkin+Patch+w+kids.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Fall Ya'All!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6050779877488916903?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6050779877488916903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6050779877488916903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6050779877488916903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6050779877488916903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/11/fall-2009.html' title='Fall 2009'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Svsi8u6aBgI/AAAAAAAABLQ/XuRY6Iw7rvQ/s72-c/MEH+picking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8007572230079344186</id><published>2009-10-27T15:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T16:16:02.797-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vegetables'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><title type='text'>Daily Madeline</title><content type='html'>I have been trying to eat more healthy and getting my kids on board has been a challenge - - to say the least! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Madeline and I had the following conversation: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline:  "Mom what's for dinner tonight?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Chicken - and YOU get to choose what vegetable we have with it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline:  "Noooo, I hate vegetables!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Well, here are your choices:  Green Beans, Corn, or Broccoli.  Which of those would you like to choose?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline:  "None!  I HATE vegetables!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Do you know that in some countries there are little children who don't &lt;em&gt;get&lt;/em&gt; to eat vegetables and they don't grow strong and healthy &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; they can't grow up to be ballerinas.  Wouldn't that be sad?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline:  "Uh huh." &lt;em&gt;(sounding totally unconvinced)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "So which would you like to choose?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline:  "Umm, I choose that country to live in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot win people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8007572230079344186?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8007572230079344186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8007572230079344186' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8007572230079344186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8007572230079344186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/10/daily-madeline.html' title='Daily Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6543962072701597441</id><published>2009-09-09T06:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T06:00:01.429-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swiss Days'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sisters day out'/><title type='text'>Swiss Days aka Sister's Day Out!</title><content type='html'>Each Labor Day weekend the city of Midway has a celebration called Swiss Days. There are lots of things going on, but the big draw for the Bronson girls is the Swiss Days boutique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we all met in the parking lot of Albertsons to load up in the Fun Bus &lt;em&gt;(aka Doreen's Expedition)&lt;/em&gt; and drove up together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have all kinds of booths at Swiss Days - food, crafts, wrapping paper &lt;em&gt;(the longest line in the whole place - go figure!).&lt;/em&gt; The fun thing about it is every day things are now "Swiss".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance there are "Swiss Hamburgers". &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNaIKXH3I/AAAAAAAABJg/a29hHAVw7ZI/s1600-h/047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212653691871090" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNaIKXH3I/AAAAAAAABJg/a29hHAVw7ZI/s400/047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Swiss Chicken"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNZgKZU1I/AAAAAAAABJY/6qFoRiduB9s/s1600-h/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212642954597202" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNZgKZU1I/AAAAAAAABJY/6qFoRiduB9s/s400/053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ohhh, the "Swiss Nuts and Kettle Corn!!" Speaking of nuts. . . er, I mean these are my sisters &lt;em&gt;(L-R)&lt;/em&gt; Norma, Julie, Doreen, &amp;amp; Heidi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNZY9m8EI/AAAAAAAABJQ/jemsJl3pCbw/s1600-h/054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212641021915202" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNZY9m8EI/AAAAAAAABJQ/jemsJl3pCbw/s400/054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some booths really go all out with the Swiss theme: &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNmvq8VcI/AAAAAAAABJw/C6A9F_neTQw/s1600-h/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212870455940546" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNmvq8VcI/AAAAAAAABJw/C6A9F_neTQw/s400/048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the literal translation - - old people in bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNmKO4JdI/AAAAAAAABJo/12vVaF0KjdA/s1600-h/049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212860406113746" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNmKO4JdI/AAAAAAAABJo/12vVaF0KjdA/s400/049.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course nothing says "Swiss" like a Swiss Miss taking a smoke break. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNY7NBGmI/AAAAAAAABJI/TE0s3oXQjOY/s1600-h/056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212633033480802" style="WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNY7NBGmI/AAAAAAAABJI/TE0s3oXQjOY/s400/056.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a better "action" shot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNYnrPJMI/AAAAAAAABJA/CA6B0M80Z9k/s1600-h/057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212627791520962" style="WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNYnrPJMI/AAAAAAAABJA/CA6B0M80Z9k/s400/057.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lest you think that this shopping excursion is for the weak - think again! Here is a "battle wound" that I received while trying to make my way through the crowds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM6tFmhfI/AAAAAAAABI4/FKYZWcz2uUw/s1600-h/058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212113848206834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM6tFmhfI/AAAAAAAABI4/FKYZWcz2uUw/s400/058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I fixed my battle scar, my sisters decided to take a little break and down some water and asperin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM6Nov0tI/AAAAAAAABIw/AsZ4NG4oHLc/s1600-h/062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212105405682386" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM6Nov0tI/AAAAAAAABIw/AsZ4NG4oHLc/s400/062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year Madeline came with us and while we took a little break she had some R&amp;amp;R on the swings. Doesn't she look like she is having a great time?! Thanks Aunt Julie for the push!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM5w9ajtI/AAAAAAAABIo/hbBc--7XbEI/s1600-h/061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212097707740882" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM5w9ajtI/AAAAAAAABIo/hbBc--7XbEI/s400/061.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until next year. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM5Otmu8I/AAAAAAAABIY/K6J00oUgYH8/s1600-h/063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379212088514624450" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbM5Otmu8I/AAAAAAAABIY/K6J00oUgYH8/s400/063.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6543962072701597441?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6543962072701597441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6543962072701597441' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6543962072701597441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6543962072701597441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/09/swiss-days-aka-sister.html' title='Swiss Days aka Sister&apos;s Day Out!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbNaIKXH3I/AAAAAAAABJg/a29hHAVw7ZI/s72-c/047.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6917491179369090816</id><published>2009-09-08T14:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:17:46.188-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Montgomery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family reunion'/><title type='text'>Montgomery Family Reunion</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago we attended the Montgomery Family Reunion. Montgomery is my mom's maiden name and this year she and her twin sister Ann just happened to be in charge of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was lots of food and fun and then there were the &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;GaMEs!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a fishing pond for the kids. Madeline scored lots of bracelets - enough to go up each arm. Then she saw a little girl crying because she didn't get any, so without me even saying anything to her, she went over to this girl &lt;em&gt;(I honestly don't know who she belonged to)&lt;/em&gt; took off one arms worth of bracelets and gave them to her. She told her not to cry because she would share with her. What a sweetheart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next my uncle Earl brought out the marshmallow guns. Now, I &lt;strong&gt;KNOW&lt;/strong&gt; he brought those thinking they would be great entertainment for the &lt;em&gt;kids&lt;/em&gt;, however I'm sure he didn't realize that some of those &lt;em&gt;kids&lt;/em&gt; would be 35 or 40!! Sorry - no pics - too busy trying to dodge marshmallows!!&lt;br /&gt;We also had a series of sack races. THIS is when the fun begins!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here they are in the first race - yes that is my B-I-L Brandon on the far right working really hard to beat those rotten kids!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_H6YtyqI/AAAAAAAABGQ/hE7YV_sQQ0M/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379196947593546402" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_H6YtyqI/AAAAAAAABGQ/hE7YV_sQQ0M/s400/019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next in the second race we have my B-I-L Todd sizing up the competition. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAF5lLMeI/AAAAAAAABG4/cH3HGf_K0Ak/s1600-h/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198012529258978" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAF5lLMeI/AAAAAAAABG4/cH3HGf_K0Ak/s400/028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they're off!! Oh, looks like Todd is falling behind. . . .&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAGwzuxuI/AAAAAAAABHI/zMdNOLKbRNk/s1600-h/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198027354261218" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAGwzuxuI/AAAAAAAABHI/zMdNOLKbRNk/s400/029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, Madeline decided that she wanted to get in on the excitement. First some coaching: &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_J4GsesI/AAAAAAAABGw/SEAzZQbLSxo/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379196981340830402" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_J4GsesI/AAAAAAAABGw/SEAzZQbLSxo/s400/021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little apprehensive at first. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_JdQrrmI/AAAAAAAABGo/gwHRu6f5vCY/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379196974134963810" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_JdQrrmI/AAAAAAAABGo/gwHRu6f5vCY/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then she REALLY gives it her best shot! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_IQHOGII/AAAAAAAABGY/UeZdxOBa1x0/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379196953425746050" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_IQHOGII/AAAAAAAABGY/UeZdxOBa1x0/s400/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbE3CzPfUI/AAAAAAAABIQ/isQ2KmcH2Ek/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379203254864280898" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbE3CzPfUI/AAAAAAAABIQ/isQ2KmcH2Ek/s400/026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end it was just too much effort - but hey she looked cute, isn't that what counts?!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_IwaSYrI/AAAAAAAABGg/Ug-LpN6Mjto/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379196962095653554" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_IwaSYrI/AAAAAAAABGg/Ug-LpN6Mjto/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the sack races we had a 3 legged race. My uncle convinced my sister Sheryl and I to join. We did a few practice runs then then it was race time. There was high excitement - we were racing against my other sister Doreen and her husband Brandon. They had been talking a lot of SmACk to us about how they were going to kick our trash, blah, blah, blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in the end Sheryl grabbed Brandon's shirt to hold him back and we managed to knock them down and go in for the win!! Here we are with our prize. &lt;em&gt;(All that for a Twix bar?!?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAHLJFrEI/AAAAAAAABHQ/_ci6LqsUVeQ/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198034423163970" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAHLJFrEI/AAAAAAAABHQ/_ci6LqsUVeQ/s400/032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the other games was to pick pennies out of Jell-O with chopsticks. Madeline and Katie loved this game. I'm not sure how many pennies they got out, but the Jell-O sure tasted good! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAmCOYg_I/AAAAAAAABH4/UXR2XciWB_I/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198564605395954" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAmCOYg_I/AAAAAAAABH4/UXR2XciWB_I/s400/039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you a warning about my family. If by chance you leave your camera unattended at any family function, you never know what you will get. Here's a prime example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my sister Norma and her husband Curtis. I know what you are thinking - not so bad right? Wait for it. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAHlutMsI/AAAAAAAABHY/molTkzvjD2w/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198041560265410" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAHlutMsI/AAAAAAAABHY/molTkzvjD2w/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the next picture on my camera. My Dad and brother clowning around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAlPXQfPI/AAAAAAAABHg/jwET35FP1SY/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198550952410354" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAlPXQfPI/AAAAAAAABHg/jwET35FP1SY/s400/034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and here is my niece Katherine - showing her &lt;strong&gt;true&lt;/strong&gt; feelings about family reunions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAlySgIfI/AAAAAAAABHw/Qx6PCF5uw_U/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198560327705074" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAlySgIfI/AAAAAAAABHw/Qx6PCF5uw_U/s400/037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reunion took place while my Dear Husband was out of the country. All of the other B-I-L's kept asking about him. I think my B-I-L Christian summed up all of their feelings perfectly when he said "So you have to leave the country to get out of something like this -HUH?!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all we had a pretty good time. It was nice to see relaitives that you don't see very often &lt;em&gt;(or didn't realize you had!)&lt;/em&gt;. However I think my nephew Caleb had the best time of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAmnflyOI/AAAAAAAABIA/V5Wf1c4BAfk/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198574609680610" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbAmnflyOI/AAAAAAAABIA/V5Wf1c4BAfk/s400/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was soaked by the time they left. I can laugh and think it's funny because it's not my kid!! Go Caleb!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbA9hX4XHI/AAAAAAAABII/zaVYNVl2leo/s1600-h/044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379198968103722098" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqbA9hX4XHI/AAAAAAAABII/zaVYNVl2leo/s400/044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6917491179369090816?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6917491179369090816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6917491179369090816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6917491179369090816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6917491179369090816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/09/montgomery-family-reunion.html' title='Montgomery Family Reunion'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa_H6YtyqI/AAAAAAAABGQ/hE7YV_sQQ0M/s72-c/019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4550483818839685768</id><published>2009-09-08T14:01:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T14:27:53.193-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother of the year'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charley Jenkins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arts in the park'/><title type='text'>ANOTHER Mother of the Year!</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago my Dear Husband had to go to Guatemala and then Mexico City for work.  He left on a Sunday and it was a L O N G day for me alone with two kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each Sunday night Lehi City hosts an Arts in the Park with different performers.  It just so happened that this particular Sunday was Charley Jenkins in the park.  I really like his music and needed to get out of the house.  I called a few sisters and we arranged to meet at the park. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set up our chairs close to the playground so that we could keep an eye on the kids while we watched the show.  The kids would play for a minute then run back to our seats for a rest and then it was back to the playground.  Here is my niece Oakley with my sister Norma.  &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7G_0DBfI/AAAAAAAABGI/pj4e4TxEmvg/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379192533823981042" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7G_0DBfI/AAAAAAAABGI/pj4e4TxEmvg/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all sitting there waiting for them to work out some bugs with the sound system and the next thing I know a woman comes on the stage and says "We have a little lost girl".  She is holding this crying little blonde girl in her arms.  I squint up towards the stage and think to myself &lt;em&gt;"Hmmm, Madeline has a pair of shoes like that."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when my sister nudged me and said "Jana, that is Madeline!"  Oh Right - - of course it is!  I then have to run up to the front and retrieve her.  Now, just so you know. . . we hadn't changed spots, I hadn't moved and Madeline had been back and forth between me and the playground several times up to this point.  What made her decide she was lost right then, I will never know! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat on my lap for about 10 minutes and didn't seem any worse for the wear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7GXl5egI/AAAAAAAABGA/0FyJzY_qfzg/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379192523027216898" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7GXl5egI/AAAAAAAABGA/0FyJzY_qfzg/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when the music started she decided that she needed to bust a move. . . This was hysterical to watch.  She was standing on the bleachers and dancing for all to see! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7GCDIrAI/AAAAAAAABF4/lxo7iTagR44/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379192517244267522" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7GCDIrAI/AAAAAAAABF4/lxo7iTagR44/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say?  The girl has skillzzz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7Fi7OtOI/AAAAAAAABFw/HggH-_4_6G4/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379192508889609442" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7Fi7OtOI/AAAAAAAABFw/HggH-_4_6G4/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and don't worry, I have my Mother of the Year speech all ready for when they deliver that prize! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4550483818839685768?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4550483818839685768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4550483818839685768' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4550483818839685768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4550483818839685768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/09/another-mother-of-year.html' title='ANOTHER Mother of the Year!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sqa7G_0DBfI/AAAAAAAABGI/pj4e4TxEmvg/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3624303965044619615</id><published>2009-09-08T13:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T13:57:12.850-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Day of School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>First Day of School</title><content type='html'>Jack started Kindergarten last week.  He goes in the afternoon with his "best bud" Mayson.  He was very excited to ride the bus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I told him that I would go down to the bus stop with him each day he informed me that he did NOT need me to go to the bus stop with him, AND lest I get any crazy ideas, he could walk home by himself too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaysAW6ixI/AAAAAAAABFQ/L7J7e18M1zg/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379183274020735762" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaysAW6ixI/AAAAAAAABFQ/L7J7e18M1zg/s400/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the bus stop is .25 miles from our house and  if you are a 5 year old boy there is a lot of "dinking around" that can happen in those .25 miles.  So we came to a compromise - Jack leaves the house and picks up his friend Mayson.  I wait for about 5 minutes and then drive down in the car with Madeline to  make sure they get on the bus. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaytGKFb5I/AAAAAAAABFg/XHhUZLUYC40/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379183292757405586" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaytGKFb5I/AAAAAAAABFg/XHhUZLUYC40/s400/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaysuO4y_I/AAAAAAAABFY/cacTWlKKRYg/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Madeline started pre-school  the following week.  She goes in the morning.  I know you are thinking "Wow she didn't plan that one too well."  But I figured this is the last year that I will have Jack at home and it would be good for us to spend some one on one time together while Madeline is at pre-school.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right after I took this picture of Madeline I started to walk her to the door.  She turned to me and in her most reassuring 3 year old voice said "It's OK Mom, I can do this."   Huh?  Are you 3 or 13?!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaythenK1I/AAAAAAAABFo/DR0S9pgchuw/s1600-h/046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379183300091259730" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaythenK1I/AAAAAAAABFo/DR0S9pgchuw/s400/046.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3624303965044619615?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3624303965044619615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3624303965044619615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3624303965044619615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3624303965044619615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-day-of-school.html' title='First Day of School'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SqaysAW6ixI/AAAAAAAABFQ/L7J7e18M1zg/s72-c/016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4593145443860999799</id><published>2009-09-02T08:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T08:00:07.379-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindergarten'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='G.I. Joe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='costumes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>Meet My Son. . .  G.I. Joe?</title><content type='html'>Jack's latest superhero obsession is G.I. Joe.  A few weeks ago we went to Costco and they had Halloween costumes.  &lt;em&gt;Already?!?&lt;/em&gt;  Jack was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He immediately found a Snake Eyes costume.  In a moment of weakness and rationalization that almost every day is Halloween for Jack, I bought it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see Jack loves to dress up.  Some days I will find him and his little gang all dressed as Batman, or Indianna Jones, or Spiderman &lt;em&gt;(both black and red).&lt;/em&gt;  Other times it's Buzz Lightyear, a Power Ranger or a Ninja.  Last week he had 6 chopsticks from the kitchen between his fingers using them as Wolverine claws!  He does get points for creativity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the day came that we went for his Kindergarten Evaluation.  He sat at the front of the room while Mrs. Peterson talked to him to see what he knew and what he needed to work on.  I was at the back of the room filling out paperwork. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toward the end I hear the following conversation -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mrs. Peterson:&lt;/strong&gt;  "So shall we call you Jack in school this year? Is that what you would like to be called?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jack:&lt;/strong&gt;  "No, you can call me G.I. Joe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me - thinking to myself:  Say what?!?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mrs. Peterson:&lt;/strong&gt;  "Oh, is that what your Mom and Dad call you at home?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jack&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(looking my way out of the corner of his eye):&lt;/em&gt;  "Uhh, No.  But &lt;strong&gt;YOU&lt;/strong&gt; can call me G.I. Joe." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;At this point I am biting the inside of my cheek trying not to laugh.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mrs. Peterson&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(without missing a beat):&lt;/em&gt; "Well I think for school we are going to call you Jack."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jack:&lt;/strong&gt;  "&lt;em&gt;Sigh&lt;/em&gt;. . . . OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spit1UtLnWI/AAAAAAAABFI/ovgtgsfgwTc/s1600-h/GI+Joe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375237286869572962" style="WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 93px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spit1UtLnWI/AAAAAAAABFI/ovgtgsfgwTc/s400/GI+Joe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4593145443860999799?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4593145443860999799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4593145443860999799' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4593145443860999799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4593145443860999799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/09/meet-my-son-gi-joe.html' title='Meet My Son. . .  G.I. Joe?'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spit1UtLnWI/AAAAAAAABFI/ovgtgsfgwTc/s72-c/GI+Joe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5812882584283622886</id><published>2009-09-01T06:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T06:51:00.562-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quilting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madeline&apos;s room'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='french'/><title type='text'>Quilting / Decorating project AKA Madeline's Room</title><content type='html'>About 5 or 6 years ago, my sister Heidi introduced me to the hobby of quilting. Well, maybe hobby is not quite the right word. Some of the words that come to mind are &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;obsession&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;sickness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;money pit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - - you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first quilt that I did was for Jack's room. That lead to some pillows and then some curtains to match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it came time to move Madeline from her crib to a big girl bed, I decided that I would use my skills to make her bedroom over last summer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures of the finished project. First I started with the actual quilt to go on the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimu_NHHsI/AAAAAAAABE4/mPLyOMkajzM/s1600-h/076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375229481437306562" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimu_NHHsI/AAAAAAAABE4/mPLyOMkajzM/s400/076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a close up of the quilt. There was a lot of piecing involved and it was pretty time consuming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpimeEua4DI/AAAAAAAABEQ/WpqCpJo3xjs/s1600-h/088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375229190861414450" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpimeEua4DI/AAAAAAAABEQ/WpqCpJo3xjs/s400/088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which then led to throw pillows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpioJ5EeGlI/AAAAAAAABFA/7daMpCvQEA4/s1600-h/087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375231043158547026" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpioJ5EeGlI/AAAAAAAABFA/7daMpCvQEA4/s400/087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are going to go to all that work, you might as well have a custom bed skirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimd-QCt1I/AAAAAAAABEI/UJXY5xpYCVI/s1600-h/089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375229189123389266" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimd-QCt1I/AAAAAAAABEI/UJXY5xpYCVI/s400/089.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Which made me think that curtains would be a good addition.  &lt;em&gt;(Anyone read the book "If you Give a Moose a Muffin"?  Do you see some similarities here?)  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These curtains look cute, but they were a pain in the neck to make!  As for her letters that spell out her name they are wood covered with scrapbook paper.  I made Jade go with me several times to Robert's Crafts so that we could each buy one letter at 40% off.   There are LOTS of letters in this girl's name!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpimulPdw_I/AAAAAAAABEw/qTduSFAl64I/s1600-h/079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375229474467857394" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpimulPdw_I/AAAAAAAABEw/qTduSFAl64I/s400/079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next I found some cute "frenchy" pictures on eBay.  Notice the cute crown hooks that I found at RodWorks.  Now if I could just get her to actually &lt;em&gt;use&lt;/em&gt; them. . . .&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpimfL4UvOI/AAAAAAAABEg/y-Fya7rcDP4/s1600-h/084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375229209961872610" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpimfL4UvOI/AAAAAAAABEg/y-Fya7rcDP4/s400/084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I found some cute paper at a fru-fru boutique and bought it, not quite knowing what I was going to do with it.  Then I had a great idea - tear the sides and mount it on an artist's canvas painted brown and distressed.  Add some ribbon at the top and a cute wall hanger and you are set! &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimej5Sb8I/AAAAAAAABEY/dU4tJ8CV7Vg/s1600-h/081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375229199228497858" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimej5Sb8I/AAAAAAAABEY/dU4tJ8CV7Vg/s400/081.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't noticed, I love all things French.  My dear husband is always telling me "We Are Not FRENCH!"  As a joke he started calling France The Motherland.  Now my kids think that the Eiffel Tower is called The Motherland!  They sometimes ask if we can go to The Motherland.  It drives Dear Husband crazy and secretly I smile inside.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5812882584283622886?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5812882584283622886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5812882584283622886' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5812882584283622886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5812882584283622886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/09/quilting-decorating-project-aka.html' title='Quilting / Decorating project AKA Madeline&apos;s Room'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spimu_NHHsI/AAAAAAAABE4/mPLyOMkajzM/s72-c/076.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6470435857328004505</id><published>2009-08-30T20:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T20:55:00.679-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surfing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='utah lake'/><title type='text'>Surfing on the Lake</title><content type='html'>One of the great things about living on the lake is you have lots of friends that have boats.  Our friends Eric and Minnette have a boat that you can surf behind.  It has tanks that fill with water from the lake along with some "fat sacks" that you pump water into that sit on your seats on one side so that you can get a bigger wake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hot day in July we went out for a quick surf.  Mark was out first.  He hasn't surfed very much but claims it's pretty easy.  &lt;em&gt;(I have yet to try it&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZbDA6BmI/AAAAAAAABD4/sFVg69FphCA/s1600-h/109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214845211313762" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZbDA6BmI/AAAAAAAABD4/sFVg69FphCA/s400/109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here he is getting a feel for the water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZa5YA5-I/AAAAAAAABDw/c8QdHtiaGGY/s1600-h/110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214842623879138" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZa5YA5-I/AAAAAAAABDw/c8QdHtiaGGY/s400/110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find the "sweet spot" so he can throw the rope into the boat and really surf. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZPiWTr5I/AAAAAAAABDo/Ro76wgnFp9c/s1600-h/111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214647464144786" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZPiWTr5I/AAAAAAAABDo/Ro76wgnFp9c/s400/111.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tossed the rope, but can't quite hang on - he's on his way down in this pic. Bummer, try again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZPIrZ5aI/AAAAAAAABDg/l7jo90Nrx1E/s1600-h/113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214640573310370" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZPIrZ5aI/AAAAAAAABDg/l7jo90Nrx1E/s400/113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now our friend Eric gets out.  But wait, he's got company.  This is Alli - she just turned 3 and loves to surf with her Dad. Notice how she is hanging onto his life jacket while he tosses the rope.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZOCnuJoI/AAAAAAAABDQ/8AuFNIo2Cms/s1600-h/117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214621767378562" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZOCnuJoI/AAAAAAAABDQ/8AuFNIo2Cms/s400/117.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, catching some waves on Utah Lake! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZOmpNI7I/AAAAAAAABDY/lH7DvNZfCKs/s1600-h/118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214631437280178" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZOmpNI7I/AAAAAAAABDY/lH7DvNZfCKs/s400/118.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alli gives it a thumbs up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZN_mZZ6I/AAAAAAAABDI/FvVxC04Y9Zc/s1600-h/122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375214620956518306" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZN_mZZ6I/AAAAAAAABDI/FvVxC04Y9Zc/s400/122.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6470435857328004505?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6470435857328004505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6470435857328004505' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6470435857328004505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6470435857328004505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/surfing-on-lake.html' title='Surfing on the Lake'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiZbDA6BmI/AAAAAAAABD4/sFVg69FphCA/s72-c/109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4308444234515292437</id><published>2009-08-30T08:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T08:00:03.040-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s museum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>Children's Museum</title><content type='html'>One Sunday afternoon, Jack decided to get some sun while reading the Sunday paper. First he started with the comics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKzbdfqpI/AAAAAAAABDA/Jj800DJd6xI/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198771416115858" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKzbdfqpI/AAAAAAAABDA/Jj800DJd6xI/s400/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he came to something that &lt;strong&gt;REALLY&lt;/strong&gt; caught his attention - an ad for the Children's Museum at the Gateway. They were having a buy one get one free offer - just our price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKy9OcahI/AAAAAAAABC4/QVhXB-RuIHU/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198763299924498" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKy9OcahI/AAAAAAAABC4/QVhXB-RuIHU/s400/020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived, the first thing they tried out were the musical instruments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKySbcr1I/AAAAAAAABCw/KsHB9nxDn9M/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198751811743570" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKySbcr1I/AAAAAAAABCw/KsHB9nxDn9M/s400/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Madeline concentrating very hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKhoCc1TI/AAAAAAAABCo/TapVzBCNsiM/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198465554699570" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKhoCc1TI/AAAAAAAABCo/TapVzBCNsiM/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we came to a play house. It had everything you might find in a real house, including a mouse hole in the wall. There was a button to push that turned on a light inside and you could see the mouse's house complete with furniture made from thread spools, etc. However, the mouse family must have been at the people museum as they were no where to be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKhP7aDjI/AAAAAAAABCg/yBlfueZYnp8/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198459082706482" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKhP7aDjI/AAAAAAAABCg/yBlfueZYnp8/s400/030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a really cool water play station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKg2X7tNI/AAAAAAAABCY/QHbTy6FF3cE/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198452223030482" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKg2X7tNI/AAAAAAAABCY/QHbTy6FF3cE/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent quite a bit of time here since water is the &lt;em&gt;ultimate&lt;/em&gt; kid magnet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKgbcWyuI/AAAAAAAABCQ/cqO_RZFJ6Zw/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198444993825506" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKgbcWyuI/AAAAAAAABCQ/cqO_RZFJ6Zw/s400/034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had lots of dress ups. Jack and Madeline tried out the cowboy outfits first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKgLBZpHI/AAAAAAAABCI/lZZw2xwjz_Y/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198440585798770" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKgLBZpHI/AAAAAAAABCI/lZZw2xwjz_Y/s400/036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently these boots were NOT made for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;walkin&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJ0fRU8UI/AAAAAAAABB4/mJyu4pZTjq4/s1600-h/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375197690107064642" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJ0fRU8UI/AAAAAAAABB4/mJyu4pZTjq4/s400/048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack gives up on the boots and decides to throw some hay for the horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJ01c0sXI/AAAAAAAABCA/6uY08gyOvBk/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375197696060862834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJ01c0sXI/AAAAAAAABCA/6uY08gyOvBk/s400/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meanwhile, Madeline decides that she is going to ride that pony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJz9yZj5I/AAAAAAAABBw/9cYzmxvirkM/s1600-h/041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375197681118973842" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJz9yZj5I/AAAAAAAABBw/9cYzmxvirkM/s400/041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we go over to the supermarket. It is laid out just like a real supermarket, complete with shelves stocked with cereal and canned goods, a produce section, bakery, deli and meat counter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Madeline immediately takes charge and becomes the checker. My job is to be the shopper. She goes into full character mode. Asking me how I am doing today and if I found everything OK. I tell her that I have some coupons and she informs me that her store doesn't take coupons. I tell her I don't have the money to pay for everything unless I use my coupons and she sweetly informs me that I will have to put some things back. REALLY?!  Wow, this pretending is too much like real life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJzoMa9kI/AAAAAAAABBo/wnpESjtWF3k/s1600-h/050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375197675322537538" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJzoMa9kI/AAAAAAAABBo/wnpESjtWF3k/s400/050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meanwhile Jack is busy delivering the mail. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJzBPS5LI/AAAAAAAABBg/y7xBiDMr-JY/s1600-h/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375197664865608882" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiJzBPS5LI/AAAAAAAABBg/y7xBiDMr-JY/s400/053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we went up to the roof where they have a &lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LifeFlight&lt;/span&gt; helicopter. It is pretty cool. You can sit inside as a passenger, go up front and be the pilot or there is a control tower that you can use to guide the chopper. Really cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI8o2HzSI/AAAAAAAABBY/4b3IIrFKd2A/s1600-h/054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196730604637474" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI8o2HzSI/AAAAAAAABBY/4b3IIrFKd2A/s400/054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that it was lunch time so we met Mark at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt; that was just across the way from the museum. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt; is probably my LAST choice for lunch, but luckily it was at the food court and we were able to get something else to eat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After lunch we went back to the museum and Jack decided to be a fireman for a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI8RfqpKI/AAAAAAAABBQ/Qbj8JqshVoY/s1600-h/057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196724336436386" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI8RfqpKI/AAAAAAAABBQ/Qbj8JqshVoY/s400/057.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that they spotted a car at the gas station where you could pump your own gas! &lt;em&gt;Get right out of town! This is the greatest thing ever! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack immediately assumed the position of authority and started pumping the gas while telling his sister that HE was driving and she should stay on her side of the car. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI76KRJlI/AAAAAAAABBI/HGJPC6y_bho/s1600-h/060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196718072669778" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI76KRJlI/AAAAAAAABBI/HGJPC6y_bho/s400/060.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that worked well didn't it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI7Wd_X3I/AAAAAAAABBA/si2YF9jy8Aw/s1600-h/061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196708491714418" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI7Wd_X3I/AAAAAAAABBA/si2YF9jy8Aw/s400/061.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Madeline thinks to herself "how hard can this be?" and decides to pump her own gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI7EQrnWI/AAAAAAAABA4/y7SQqgkiLv0/s1600-h/063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196703604055394" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiI7EQrnWI/AAAAAAAABA4/y7SQqgkiLv0/s400/063.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shortly after this I decided that I was done, done and done with the museum. We had spent a total of 4 hours in the museum - not including lunch.  All in all it was a really fun day and they have been begging to go back ever since. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4308444234515292437?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4308444234515292437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4308444234515292437' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4308444234515292437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4308444234515292437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/childrens-museum.html' title='Children&apos;s Museum'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpiKzbdfqpI/AAAAAAAABDA/Jj800DJd6xI/s72-c/022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4673248367988256867</id><published>2009-08-29T19:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T18:42:08.166-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rodeo 2009'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lehi Round Up'/><title type='text'>Lehi Round Up Days</title><content type='html'>This year we went to the Lehi Round Up as we do every year. We missed the all horse parade since we were driving back from Reno that day, but we were able to do some other fun things when we got back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pioneer Party had a Kids Day on Friday - there were games, candy, a pig to pet &lt;em&gt;(both Jack and Madeline declined to pet the pig)&lt;/em&gt; and you could learn to rope a "cow".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Madeline showing off her cowgirl skills. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; the boots with the shorts - cute if you're 3, not so much if you're 40!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaRAzFgII/AAAAAAAAA8w/BxiDhFn1UTw/s1600-h/CIMG0998.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375145403585233026" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaRAzFgII/AAAAAAAAA8w/BxiDhFn1UTw/s400/CIMG0998.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that fun and excitement we walked down the block to Reams Boots &amp;amp; Jeans where the Lehi High School FFA club &lt;em&gt;(Future Farmers of America for those of you who don't know)&lt;/em&gt; was selling hot dogs, chips and a drink for $2. Such a deal!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are Jack and Madeline sitting on the porch of Reams. Yep, that is a regular Coke that my boy is drinking. What can I say?! Mother of the Year!!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaRWTTigI/AAAAAAAAA84/LVrcz_7GZ5Y/s1600-h/CIMG0999.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375145409357515266" style="WIDTH: 303px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaRWTTigI/AAAAAAAAA84/LVrcz_7GZ5Y/s400/CIMG0999.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we went to the parade. Each year the whole clan gathers at the same place and we all watch together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are Jack and Madeline waiting for the parade to start. All the kids get front row seats. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaR9dRU3I/AAAAAAAAA9A/yWuEtiubZQw/s1600-h/CIMG1006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375145419868296050" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaR9dRU3I/AAAAAAAAA9A/yWuEtiubZQw/s400/CIMG1006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Jade and Willy didn't want to be considered kids, they sat a little further back with the adults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaSSrl-TI/AAAAAAAAA9I/MmNAmoknH8E/s1600-h/CIMG1007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375145425565514034" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaSSrl-TI/AAAAAAAAA9I/MmNAmoknH8E/s400/CIMG1007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the love of my life and me. He really doesn't like parades, but is always a good sport and comes with us anyway. Notice my B-I-L Stephen in the background - - should he &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; be in the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;adult&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; section?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphazIIGO8I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/IO1rWYvYVd0/s1600-h/CIMG1009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375145989667961794" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphazIIGO8I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/IO1rWYvYVd0/s400/CIMG1009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night we went to the Round Up Rodeo. This is an old fashioned rodeo, held outside and complete with hard metal bleachers to sit on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My entire family gets tickets together on the first day that they are sold and we all sit together. This is only some of my family - the rest are at the snack stand getting a rodeo burger and cokes. You need fuel to be able to yell, whistle and clap for 2 hours! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sphaz9sGGFI/AAAAAAAAA9g/-oj4041JlmU/s1600-h/CIMG1016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375146004046026834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sphaz9sGGFI/AAAAAAAAA9g/-oj4041JlmU/s400/CIMG1016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my cute nephew and niece - Bridger and Oakley. They actually came without their parents &lt;em&gt;(my sister had her class reunion)&lt;/em&gt; and were very well behaved! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spha0n2NfNI/AAAAAAAAA9o/tG3lJ-Yi9ZU/s1600-h/CIMG1019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375146015362743506" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spha0n2NfNI/AAAAAAAAA9o/tG3lJ-Yi9ZU/s400/CIMG1019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now comes my favorite part - when the queens come out with the flags while they play God Bless America as a prelude to when the National Anthem is sung. It moves me to tears every year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spha1NOlrLI/AAAAAAAAA9w/BIS_eO9T_YY/s1600-h/CIMG1023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375146025397103794" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spha1NOlrLI/AAAAAAAAA9w/BIS_eO9T_YY/s400/CIMG1023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we are - happy family at the rodeo. My dear husband doesn't really like the rodeo, but again gets bonus points because he goes every year with me and actually seems to enjoy himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphazryExbI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/cENGQiWCvt8/s1600-h/CIMG1014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375145999239267762" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphazryExbI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/cENGQiWCvt8/s400/CIMG1014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were waiting for the rodeo to start I snapped these pictures of my two angels. I swear they are either the best of friends or sworn enemies. Lucky for me they are usually friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphbyG-8pzI/AAAAAAAAA-A/I1-kzUi2uuA/s1600-h/JRH_MEH+face+to+face3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375147071692908338" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphbyG-8pzI/AAAAAAAAA-A/I1-kzUi2uuA/s400/JRH_MEH+face+to+face3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphbyUxDxWI/AAAAAAAAA-I/yTrdJxCa8yE/s1600-h/JRH_MEH+face+to+face+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375147075392750946" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphbyUxDxWI/AAAAAAAAA-I/yTrdJxCa8yE/s400/JRH_MEH+face+to+face+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Trails . . . until next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sphbxl3cBxI/AAAAAAAAA94/aV4KP4XZ5_M/s1600-h/JRH_MEH+face+to+face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375147062803040018" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sphbxl3cBxI/AAAAAAAAA94/aV4KP4XZ5_M/s400/JRH_MEH+face+to+face.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4673248367988256867?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4673248367988256867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4673248367988256867' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4673248367988256867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4673248367988256867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/lehi-round-up-days.html' title='Lehi Round Up Days'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphaRAzFgII/AAAAAAAAA8w/BxiDhFn1UTw/s72-c/CIMG0998.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3302436834439977159</id><published>2009-08-29T18:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T18:53:00.211-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='4th of july'/><title type='text'>July 4th 2009</title><content type='html'>The 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays.  For the record I actually have three holidays that I absolutely &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.  The 4th of July, Halloween and Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each year for the 4th of July we have The Driveway of Fire at our house.  This all started about 15 years ago when we couldn't really afford to go to the Stadium of Fire held at BYU each year and decided to do the redneck version instead.  We invited our friends and family and ta-da!  a tradition was born - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Driveway of Fire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We start things off right with a potluck BBQ.  It is a BYOB affair.  At the Harris house this means "Bring Your Own Beef" or whatever you wish to barbeque along with something to share.  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8fxsoxxI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/9gaRm3J8QFA/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183040625035026" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8fxsoxxI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/9gaRm3J8QFA/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my neice, Oakley and Madeline enjoying some yummy chocolate cake. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8gdR7ERI/AAAAAAAAA_g/IA2BT5bKw-k/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183052324147474" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8gdR7ERI/AAAAAAAAA_g/IA2BT5bKw-k/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we sort of hang around, let our food settle and wait for darkness. &lt;br /&gt;These fine people are my parents, Sherman &amp;amp; Vickie.  &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8glfj_MI/AAAAAAAAA_o/-FBveiyNCYE/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183054528838850" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8glfj_MI/AAAAAAAAA_o/-FBveiyNCYE/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Jordan - just chillin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8hA1C1dI/AAAAAAAAA_w/gctoNtnZzAs/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183061866698194" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8hA1C1dI/AAAAAAAAA_w/gctoNtnZzAs/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister and her teenage son Drake decide to make some of their own fun and show us their best gang banger look:&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph881vxFxI/AAAAAAAABAA/RItwpySyFQ8/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183539928110866" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph881vxFxI/AAAAAAAABAA/RItwpySyFQ8/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drake is having a hard time keeping a straight face to look mean and tough. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph89ceyqPI/AAAAAAAABAI/acE3_x3NW2I/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183550325893362" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph89ceyqPI/AAAAAAAABAI/acE3_x3NW2I/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as his Dad gets in on it, it's all over for Drake. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8-Hdy-RI/AAAAAAAABAQ/DRyeddIW_SE/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183561864444178" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8-Hdy-RI/AAAAAAAABAQ/DRyeddIW_SE/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile there is a furious battle happening on the trampoline.  Jack and my nephew Bridger are trying to settle a score for the galaxy.  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8-Vepv7I/AAAAAAAABAY/0lHvo6nXnXA/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183565626130354" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8-Vepv7I/AAAAAAAABAY/0lHvo6nXnXA/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;FINALLY&lt;/span&gt; it is dark enough to begin the show.  Since we live in a cul-de-sac now, we no longer have to limit the action to just the driveway.  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8-1WnUzI/AAAAAAAABAg/ZwxuLd6XLCQ/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183574182351666" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8-1WnUzI/AAAAAAAABAg/ZwxuLd6XLCQ/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Jade showing off her MAD sparkler skillzz!  None of these pictures turned out very good, but you get the general idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph9JRnZ5SI/AAAAAAAABAo/9eJdVuH8X_8/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183753567659298" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph9JRnZ5SI/AAAAAAAABAo/9eJdVuH8X_8/s400/017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; At the end of the night &lt;em&gt;(or whenever all the fireworks have been lit)&lt;/em&gt; everyone goes home happy.  This is me and my sister Norma giving you our best "sparkler smile". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph9J6PdFzI/AAAAAAAABAw/XmmjVhULdeY/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375183764473059122" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph9J6PdFzI/AAAAAAAABAw/XmmjVhULdeY/s400/019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3302436834439977159?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3302436834439977159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3302436834439977159' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3302436834439977159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3302436834439977159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/july-4th-2009.html' title='July 4th 2009'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Sph8fxsoxxI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/9gaRm3J8QFA/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5074433665460422322</id><published>2009-08-29T17:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T17:47:00.285-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing pole'/><title type='text'>Tale of the Fishing Pole (a tragedy)</title><content type='html'>We thought it would be a good idea to buy the kids a fishing pole.  It would give them something to do while on the boat &lt;em&gt;(besides pick at each other)&lt;/em&gt; and they could entertain themselves when we went camping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Wal-Mart and found a Spiderman pole for Jack but they were completely out of anything remotely girl.  So we went to another Wal-Mart.  Again the same result - nothing girl, they were totally sold out.  Who knew there would be such a run on feminine fishing poles?!?  Finally in desperation we tried the local Target and - - JACKPOT.  Of course it was a few dollars more than it would have cost at Wal-Mart, but we figured it would be a small price to pay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got home the kids just had to try them out.  They insisted that we fill the kiddie pool so they could "fish".  While they were waiting for the pool to fill, the "fished" over the bannister to the basement.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht55mvSyI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/3aPyR-vLlr8/s1600-h/075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375166996749962018" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht55mvSyI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/3aPyR-vLlr8/s400/075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later we went down to the lake so they could try them out for real.  First we tried it off of the dock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphuahM5LYI/AAAAAAAAA_I/j1lgMRWNF-0/s1600-h/MRH+Kids+on+dock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375167557134790018" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphuahM5LYI/AAAAAAAAA_I/j1lgMRWNF-0/s400/MRH+Kids+on+dock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Madeline - always stylish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphuaJVQsoI/AAAAAAAAA_A/fa-wqoskcxI/s1600-h/Madeline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375167550727434882" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 361px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphuaJVQsoI/AAAAAAAAA_A/fa-wqoskcxI/s400/Madeline.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice the sign Jack is standing next to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphuZmXEKjI/AAAAAAAAA-4/jxqfQvrP4RM/s1600-h/Jack+no+fishing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375167541339761202" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphuZmXEKjI/AAAAAAAAA-4/jxqfQvrP4RM/s400/Jack+no+fishing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack - making a cast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht70V4K7I/AAAAAAAAA-w/f57aDVIZ8Kk/s1600-h/084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375167029696801714" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht70V4K7I/AAAAAAAAA-w/f57aDVIZ8Kk/s400/084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got out on the boat Mark showed the kids how to cast.  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht6UYaNfI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/9GR9J8FOPaw/s1600-h/078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375167003937617394" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht6UYaNfI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/9GR9J8FOPaw/s400/078.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while he casts and then the kids reel it in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht7Sd-rII/AAAAAAAAA-o/5uyUx_II5wE/s1600-h/081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375167020603976834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht7Sd-rII/AAAAAAAAA-o/5uyUx_II5wE/s400/081.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poles have a small plastic "thing" on the end to prevent the line from going into the reel.  There is a spider on the end of Jack's pole and a pink butterfly on the end of Madeline's pole.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each time after Mark casts Madeline's out and she starts to reel it in, as it gets closer and she can see the pink butterfly she gets really excited, seems surprised and shouts "I caught a fish, I caught a fish!!"  This happens numerous times within a 10 minute period.  Each time she is surprised that she caught a fish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally the kids try to cast on their own.  Jack is doing a good job, although it doesn't go very far.  Madeline then decides that she is going to do a REALLY big cast and yep, you guessed it - - she casts and throws her pole into the lake!!  Mark jumped in and tried to find it, but the water was too dark and he couldn't find it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Madeline was sad and Mark was mad.  His comment was "We just spent $13 on a stupid Barbie fishing pole that lasted less than 4 hours!!"  I told him that someday it would be funny.  Not today, but someday.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5074433665460422322?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5074433665460422322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5074433665460422322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5074433665460422322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5074433665460422322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/tale-of-fishing-pole-tragedy.html' title='Tale of the Fishing Pole (a tragedy)'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Spht55mvSyI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/3aPyR-vLlr8/s72-c/075.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5217361751887373073</id><published>2009-08-28T16:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T16:13:47.579-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='San Francisco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reno'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wicked'/><title type='text'>Reno, NV -  San Francisco Trip</title><content type='html'>Since we hadn't been to visit Mark's parents much, we decided that we would plan a trip to visit them and then maybe go to San Francisco for a visit and try to see the Broadway play "Wicked".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We tried to get tickets to Wicked when it came to Utah, but I was blocked out of the site when it opened due to too much traffic and then they were sold out when I was finally able to get back into the site. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark's cousin was getting married on Father's Day weekend and so we figured that would be a great time for a visit. There was only one small hiccup. On the Friday and Saturday of that weekend my sister Julie and I were participating in a boutique for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lehi&lt;/span&gt; Round Up Days and I would have to be there for all of Friday at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I talked to my sister and worked it out so that I would work the booth on Friday with her and then have Jade come as my backup Saturday afternoon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided that Mark and the kids would leave on Friday morning and drive to Reno and I would fly down on Saturday afternoon in time for the wedding reception. I thought this was an EXCELLENT plan since every other time we have traveled somewhere it is usually ME that makes the 9 hour drive from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SLC&lt;/span&gt; to Reno by myself to leave the kids with Mark's parents, while my dear husband flies to wherever we are going and then I meet up with him there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shortly after they had left our house I got a call on my cell phone. It was Dear Husband informing me that the DVD players that we have for our car finally died and so after less than an hour he pulled over at the nearest Target and promptly purchased new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later on that afternoon he called to inform me that apparently they were doing a tour of each and every rest stop and bathroom between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SLC&lt;/span&gt; and Reno &lt;em&gt;(about 530 miles).&lt;/em&gt; He was quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exasperated&lt;/span&gt; and I sweetly mentioned that maybe he should not let them drink so much. . . . to this he replied that they were NOT drinking all that much, but that both had bladders the size of a skittle! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;AHHHH&lt;/span&gt;, revenge can be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; sweet! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day I flew to Reno and it was so nice - it only took 1 hour instead of 9, I read a magazine, no one was asking for a snack, drink or to go to the bathroom. But best of all I never heard "how much longer?" one time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to the wedding reception that night. It was at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Harrah's&lt;/span&gt; Auto Collection in Reno and there were lots of really cool old cars to look at. Jack and Mark loved it! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgONy7IxKI/AAAAAAAAA6I/JK95Kbp5eR8/s1600-h/CIMG0890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375061785437586594" style="WIDTH: 303px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgONy7IxKI/AAAAAAAAA6I/JK95Kbp5eR8/s400/CIMG0890.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here I am with the kids. I think that Jack has some sort of vendetta against me - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; we try to take his picture he pulls some sort of funny face or is not looking at the camera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOOtIDtMI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/OTWz7W37Ttw/s1600-h/CIMG0895.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375061801061037250" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOOtIDtMI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/OTWz7W37Ttw/s400/CIMG0895.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After several tries, Jack insisted that he take a picture of Mark and I. Not too bad for a five year old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOOAMshlI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/j8VYKu9_6v4/s1600-h/CIMG0891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375061789000894034" style="WIDTH: 303px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOOAMshlI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/j8VYKu9_6v4/s400/CIMG0891.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was Father's Day. Mark wanted to go to Nevada City, CA &lt;em&gt;(not too far from Reno)&lt;/em&gt; to see the Nevada City Classic bike race. This is the oldest bike race in the country AND. . . . Lance Armstrong and Levi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Leipheimer&lt;/span&gt; were scheduled to race! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Nevada City is really a cute town. We got there plenty early and watched some of the other races and walked around the town. Here is a picture of one of the houses - doesn't that look so quaint and small town American? I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgVCGBzZuI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/o16pqcpWElY/s1600-h/CIMG0900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375069280988784354" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgVCGBzZuI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/o16pqcpWElY/s400/CIMG0900.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of their Chamber of Commerce building. I totally fell in love with this cute town!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ8Jjy5XI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/Wsgdtkv-q_0/s1600-h/CIMG0949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375064780810937714" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ8Jjy5XI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/Wsgdtkv-q_0/s400/CIMG0949.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The race was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;criterion&lt;/span&gt; which means that they set up a sort of track and then the riders race around it a certain number of times instead of it being one long strung out ride over several miles. This is the best race to go and see since you get to see the riders more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is at the start of the race. The race official is giving them rules, guidelines: "this is this and that is that, blah, blah, blah." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ6imioUI/AAAAAAAAA6w/pJHgEoCTM8s/s1600-h/CIMG0910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375064753173602626" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ6imioUI/AAAAAAAAA6w/pJHgEoCTM8s/s400/CIMG0910.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were LOTS of people there and when it came time for Lance and Levi to ride we totally had to jockey for our spots. People kept trying to crowd us out. If you know anything about us Bronson women, you know we don't take too kindly to that. At one point I had to totally "box out" against the railing while Mark found a bathroom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pics of Lance and the race. They are not very good because we were at the start / finish line and they were going pretty fast each time they sped by. My little pocket camera is not really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;equipped&lt;/span&gt; to get really good action shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is right at the first, everyone is trying to get clipped into their pedals and get going. Lance is on the far right in the black and yellow "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;LiveStrong&lt;/span&gt;" jersey with his head down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ7AHBW3I/AAAAAAAAA64/5GQUCbPg1uY/s1600-h/CIMG0921.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375064761094462322" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ7AHBW3I/AAAAAAAAA64/5GQUCbPg1uY/s400/CIMG0921.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here they are racing by. If I had known that we were going to the bike race, I would have brought my good camera, instead of just the "slip in your purse pocket one". Oh well - next time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ7f_FUEI/AAAAAAAAA7A/G4JpI26-D6I/s1600-h/CIMG0932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375064769651101762" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ7f_FUEI/AAAAAAAAA7A/G4JpI26-D6I/s400/CIMG0932.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is probably the best shot of Lance that I took and he is looking down!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ARRGGHHH&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ79w5h5I/AAAAAAAAA7I/Eb2cMF0aarE/s1600-h/CIMG0935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375064777644672914" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgQ79w5h5I/AAAAAAAAA7I/Eb2cMF0aarE/s400/CIMG0935.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was really cool to see them ride and Mark really liked it. I commented to him about how skinny those biker boys were and he said "Well dear, you don't haul your butt up the French Alps carrying around an extra 12 pack of Twinkies and Ho-Ho's". Good point. I guess I will never ride the French Alps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack and Madeline were happy that they got to spend some "alone time" with Grandma and Grandpa Harris too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday morning we got up and drove to San Francisco. Mark's parents came with us and we took the kids too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here we are at the entrance to Chinatown. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOPGV_cuI/AAAAAAAAA6g/tGJcY233Nzg/s1600-h/CIMG0952.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375061807830364898" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOPGV_cuI/AAAAAAAAA6g/tGJcY233Nzg/s400/CIMG0952.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out Jack's face - doesn't he look thrilled to be here?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOPeIEsCI/AAAAAAAAA6o/18JsTDl1vqg/s1600-h/CIMG0954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375061814214438946" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgOPeIEsCI/AAAAAAAAA6o/18JsTDl1vqg/s400/CIMG0954.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids LOVED Chinatown - what's not to love with all the cheap crap spilling out of doorways? The oriental ladies all raved over Madeline and her hair. At almost every shop we walked by the oriental lady standing in the door would make a comment about how cute her hair was. "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Ohh&lt;/span&gt;, so cute hair on little one!" &lt;em&gt;(say with a thick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; accent for full effect)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We walked away the proud owners of a couple of ninja swords and a china girl dress and a stuffed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; cat. The best $20 we spent since they both played with them non-stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark and Matt are always telling Jack they are going to "take him down, down to Chinatown for some rice and noodles". I think this is from some movie, but I'm not sure which one. Anyway, when it came time for dinner, Jack wanted to rice and noodles in Chinatown! You know what they say. . . .when in Rome. . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That night Mark and I went to see Wicked and the kids stayed with Grandma and Grandpa at the hotel. The show was awesome. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Definitely&lt;/span&gt; my favorite. This picture is not very good - my camera was acting crazy, I think it was the lighting. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgZXbILXuI/AAAAAAAAA7o/NmpgVwxw1uY/s1600-h/CIMG0957.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375074045476429538" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgZXbILXuI/AAAAAAAAA7o/NmpgVwxw1uY/s400/CIMG0957.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got back to our hotel room that night this is how we found Jack and Madeline. How adorable is this?!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgZWiYJ8bI/AAAAAAAAA7g/dX36v5KoP5Q/s1600-h/CIMG0963.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375074030242623922" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgZWiYJ8bI/AAAAAAAAA7g/dX36v5KoP5Q/s400/CIMG0963.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, while we are on the subject of our hotel room let me tell you about the crazy miscommunication we had. I reserved the room online through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Priceline&lt;/span&gt;. I then followed up with a phone call to make SURE that our room had two beds in it. They assured me that it did. I again checked with the clerk at check in that our room had two beds and was assured that it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We get to our room and sure enough we had two beds. . . .two TWIN beds!! I went down and tried to switch rooms and was told that they were sold out for the night AND their hotel did not have rooms with two queen beds, only twins. I then asked for a roll-away bed. Only to be told that since the rooms were so small they didn't HAVE roll-away beds! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;OY&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;upstairs&lt;/span&gt; and told Mark the bad news. He was NOT happy, but at this point there was not much we could do. So that night we each slept in a twin bed and SHARED with one of the kids. Good times, good times. Like I always say "if nothing crazy ever happened on vacation, you wouldn't remember it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next morning after a yummy breakfast we went to Pier 39 for more sight seeing. The kids loved the sea lions and we spent about 20 minutes just watching them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here we are at Pier 39. It was really windy! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphTNnsVLdI/AAAAAAAAA8g/Dnyrm5rJ48M/s1600-h/CIMG0967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375137648725011922" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphTNnsVLdI/AAAAAAAAA8g/Dnyrm5rJ48M/s400/CIMG0967.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What trip to the Pier is not complete without giving money to the "robot man"? He stands there completely motionless and then when you put $$ into his cup he starts making robotic noises with his mouth and moving like he's a robot. Jack stayed as far away as possible from him and Madeline would NOT put the money into his cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphQTsWjrPI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/pPIcYSYLzl0/s1600-h/CIMG0965.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375134454520196338" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphQTsWjrPI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/pPIcYSYLzl0/s400/CIMG0965.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were also guys break dancing, putting on quite a show. This picture is for my B-I-L Curtis. One year on our family camping trip we decided that we would have a family talent show after dark. Curtis brought his own cardboard and proceeded to BREAK DANCE right there in the dirt! It was hysterical! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphQTHMrsmI/AAAAAAAAA8I/H1DJsekUfiU/s1600-h/CIMG0972.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375134444546667106" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SphQTHMrsmI/AAAAAAAAA8I/H1DJsekUfiU/s400/CIMG0972.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a good time and wished that we could have stayed longer. Maybe when the kids are a little older and can walk further!! Ha, Ha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5217361751887373073?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5217361751887373073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5217361751887373073' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5217361751887373073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5217361751887373073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/reno-nv-san-francisco-trip.html' title='Reno, NV -  San Francisco Trip'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgONy7IxKI/AAAAAAAAA6I/JK95Kbp5eR8/s72-c/CIMG0890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8151925406497408508</id><published>2009-08-10T14:27:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T16:16:09.307-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer 2009'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Princess Festival'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><title type='text'>Summer 2009 - Catch Up</title><content type='html'>This summer I have been completely inadequate in updating my blog. I am now trying to play catch up so you can see what has been keeping us so busy this summer. I will break this into several different posts, so as not to bore you too much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First is the &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Princess Festival&lt;/span&gt;. Attended by none other than our princess Madeline Elise. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here she is with the "golden ticket" to get into the festival. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCJRgzV7QI/AAAAAAAAA3A/mGQyJcELByM/s1600-h/CIMG0798.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368441689781693698" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCJRgzV7QI/AAAAAAAAA3A/mGQyJcELByM/s400/CIMG0798.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The annual Princess Festival is put on each summer by a family in Lindon, Utah. It is held at their home and on their property - which is pretty amazing. The cost was nominal &lt;em&gt;($25)&lt;/em&gt; and the proceeds went to benefit a charity that they set up to help the people in Kenya have safe drinking water, and make their lives better. It lasted about 90 minutes, but if you're 3, ninety minutes is just about right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First the Blue Fairy came to lead them on their journey. They visited several different sites around the property and solved a mystery and helped the Blue Fairy with different fairy tales.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCJSneuH-I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/oa_hBunwZco/s1600-h/CIMG0811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368441708754116578" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCJSneuH-I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/oa_hBunwZco/s400/CIMG0811.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgI81BGKrI/AAAAAAAAA54/xggVGA7jS4g/s1600-h/CIMG0811.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first stop was a cottage like Snow White's. I thought this sign was pretty cute on the outside of the cottage: &lt;em&gt;(I think I need one for my house!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCW2BN2_iI/AAAAAAAAA4I/sJaxWVPCeIM/s1600-h/CIMG0813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368456610609298978" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCW2BN2_iI/AAAAAAAAA4I/sJaxWVPCeIM/s400/CIMG0813.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next they got to go to the castle: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCWSHwuqYI/AAAAAAAAA3g/95BMk-c3Ijw/s1600-h/CIMG0816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368455993890875778" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCWSHwuqYI/AAAAAAAAA3g/95BMk-c3Ijw/s400/CIMG0816.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And as EVERYONE knows - what's a castle without a drawbridge to walk across?!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCWSq9mBQI/AAAAAAAAA3o/olvZc1w4MOo/s1600-h/CIMG0817.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368456003340076290" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCWSq9mBQI/AAAAAAAAA3o/olvZc1w4MOo/s400/CIMG0817.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While in the castle they met &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cinderella&lt;/span&gt; scrubbing the floors. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCWTHWnwwI/AAAAAAAAA34/s6LByUsLJAA/s1600-h/CIMG0824.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368456010961240834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCWTHWnwwI/AAAAAAAAA34/s6LByUsLJAA/s400/CIMG0824.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next her "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sisty&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Uglers&lt;/span&gt;" as Madeline calls the ugly step sisters, came and were mean! But the Fairy Godmother came and made her beautiful and then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sisty&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Uglers&lt;/span&gt; were sorry and ran off crying! &lt;em&gt;(this is Madeline's version of how it went down)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The grounds were very beautiful. It was really quite amazing considering that this guy built all of this for his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;grand kids&lt;/span&gt; - mostly granddaughters at his home so the they would love to come to visit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgI8fxhzmI/AAAAAAAAA5w/8VYT9qe-3r0/s1600-h/CIMG0804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375055990681095778" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgI8fxhzmI/AAAAAAAAA5w/8VYT9qe-3r0/s400/CIMG0804.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After they solved several princess "mysteries" there was a grand ball with all of the princesses in attendance. &lt;em&gt;(sorry there are not more pics - I am having issues with Blogger today)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was all over we got to take a picture in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Cinderella's&lt;/span&gt; coach. All in all a fabulous experience for MY princess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgI9ClrEbI/AAAAAAAAA6A/dlSnBQlqMj0/s1600-h/CIMG0869.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375056000026612146" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SpgI9ClrEbI/AAAAAAAAA6A/dlSnBQlqMj0/s400/CIMG0869.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8151925406497408508?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8151925406497408508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8151925406497408508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8151925406497408508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8151925406497408508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-2009-catch-up.html' title='Summer 2009 - Catch Up'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SoCJRgzV7QI/AAAAAAAAA3A/mGQyJcELByM/s72-c/CIMG0798.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5289611720540236747</id><published>2009-06-14T16:02:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T18:13:03.197-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Red Riding Hood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mari'/><title type='text'>Little Red Riding Hood '09</title><content type='html'>For the past two years I have rode in the Little Red Riding Hood women's only ride to benefit women's cancer research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I talked my friend Mari into riding with me. Mari and her husband both road bike and we &lt;em&gt;(Mark and I)&lt;/em&gt; usually try to ride with them on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV774nCCOI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/TVZvR0EARzw/s1600-h/166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347316401310927074" style="WIDTH: 372px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV774nCCOI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/TVZvR0EARzw/s400/166.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is Mari - just before we started. Do you love the arm warmers with the sleeveless jersey?! She's bringin' sexy back!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided that we would have a girls weekend and do the ride in Wellsville. Wellsville is a really small town in northern Utah just outside of Logan. It is beautiful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We left Friday afternoon and on our way to Logan had a CELEBRITY SIGHTING!! Yep folks, that IS the Jazz Bear on the motorcycle. If you ask me it would take some seriously MAD skills to ride that Harley with the Jazz Bear head thing on! &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV770JEaWI/AAAAAAAAA2I/tlb70aSlpzM/s1600-h/164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347316400111511906" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV770JEaWI/AAAAAAAAA2I/tlb70aSlpzM/s400/164.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got to Wellsville and went to the starting area. They had several booths with vendors selling jewelry, biking jerseys, shorts, etc. and purses. They also had a Hawaiian Luau for dinner and it was really good. We didn't stick around for the entertainment portion because if you've seen one chubby Hawaiian man in a grass skirt - you've pretty much seen them all! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got to our hotel in Logan, it was a little weird for me. I didn't have anyone asking to go to the ice machine, needing a snack or begging to go to the pool - what's a girl to do?!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next morning we drove back into Wellsville to get ready for our ride. We had made jokes about NOT taking our husbands - - who was going to pump up our tires? What if we got a flat? THEN WHAT?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark didn't think this was too funny - I told him that he didn't appreciate good humor. Usually when we ride he is in charge of the mechanical part &lt;em&gt;(tires, chain, etc)&lt;/em&gt; and I am in charge of water and snacks. FYI - I am AWESOME at filling water bottles and getting Gatorade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I brought our pump and after getting a tutorial from my dear husband, I felt pretty confident in using it. You see road bike tires have long and skinny valve stems and they are somewhat temperamental. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pumped up Mari's tires without a problem and then moved onto mine. I started in the back and when I went to pull the pump off of the valve stem, the top half came off in the pump! AGGHH!! So I thought I would do the front and then deal with the back again. This time when I took the pump off, the tip came off in the pump. REALLY?!? Are you kidding me? I broke BOTH valve stems? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided to ride to the starting line before my tires went completely flat and see if we could get one of the guys from the bike shop to fix them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I pulled up and explained to the nice young man that was helping what my problem was, he was like "Wow! You broke BOTH valve stems?! That takes some skill!" Then he proceeded to call some of his other worker friends over to tell them that I had broken both valve stems. I was quite the celebrity for a minute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then they noticed my bike and all the pinkness. He said - "well you may have broken both valve stems, but your bike looks good! I like all the pink." I then told him the story about how for Mother's Day I asked for a sewing machine and my dear husband heard "road bike". So then I decided that if I was going to ride, I had to look cute, hence all the pink. They thought it was a great story and all swore they heard road bike when I said sewing machine! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV78VQP7YI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/30fR3JxgXj8/s1600-h/167.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347316408999996802" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV78VQP7YI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/30fR3JxgXj8/s400/167.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Notice the pink tires that Santa brought to me this year. . . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here we are just before it was our turn to start. We did 47 miles this time. We decided that since it has been cold and rainy and both of us have rode &lt;em&gt;maybe&lt;/em&gt; 30 miles in one ride, we should play it safe and go for the shorter distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV782MUSeI/AAAAAAAAA2g/qljTdpF_qoc/s1600-h/168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347316417841875426" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 338px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV782MUSeI/AAAAAAAAA2g/qljTdpF_qoc/s400/168.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was great &lt;em&gt;(mostly)&lt;/em&gt;. Not too cold and the wind wasn't really an issue until the last 6 miles. Then, the last 6 miles of our ride the wind really picked up. We were going uphill to get to the finish and those last 6 miles felt like 60!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was my view for the majority of the ride. Mari is an awesome rider and usually faster than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV79H5aO7I/AAAAAAAAA2o/HJEKflOnboU/s1600-h/169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347316422594411442" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV79H5aO7I/AAAAAAAAA2o/HJEKflOnboU/s400/169.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told her that she needed to get shorts with words on the back so I would have something to read! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we got to the finish we were served a Mai-Tai mocktail, complete with a drink umbrella and then given a lei. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took full advantage of the free 15 minute massage &lt;em&gt;(heaven to my tired muscles!)&lt;/em&gt; and then went to eat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Besides the usual Subway sandwiches, they had a chocolate fountain this year! Ohhhh, chocolate! That made it totally worth it!! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjWNfV_00bI/AAAAAAAAA24/7szaHmYYeB4/s1600-h/172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347335702192640434" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjWNfV_00bI/AAAAAAAAA24/7szaHmYYeB4/s400/172.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we had our fill of chocolate covered &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, we took a short catnap on the grass and then headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjWNfEOxVGI/AAAAAAAAA2w/jy0r01VIgv0/s1600-h/171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347335697423488098" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjWNfEOxVGI/AAAAAAAAA2w/jy0r01VIgv0/s400/171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All in all it was a fun weekend. maybe next year we'll let the husbands come. . . . or not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5289611720540236747?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5289611720540236747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5289611720540236747' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5289611720540236747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5289611720540236747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-red-riding-hood-09.html' title='Little Red Riding Hood &apos;09'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjV774nCCOI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/TVZvR0EARzw/s72-c/166.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5186580868134013847</id><published>2009-06-14T15:15:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T16:02:15.548-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Last day of school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>Last Day of School</title><content type='html'>I know that I haven't updated my blog for over a month now, but for some reason the month of May was totally KRAZY for me. I can't really remember anything specific, but it just seemed super busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always try to take pictures of my kids on the first day of school and on the last day of school to see how they have changed during that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I couldn't take a picture of Jack without Madeline being in it too. She is convinced that she must be in every picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Jack &lt;em&gt;(and Madeline)&lt;/em&gt; on Jack's FIRST day of Pre-school: &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRrzMn8cAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/_vaGDvf7x64/s1600-h/Jack+preschool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243434393472364546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRrzMn8cAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/_vaGDvf7x64/s400/Jack+preschool.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here they are on Jack's LAST day of Pre-School:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjVxySviAuI/AAAAAAAAA2A/rA4gsXzs_xI/s1600-h/136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347305241410929378" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SjVxySviAuI/AAAAAAAAA2A/rA4gsXzs_xI/s400/136.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is a little blurry - but it was the best of the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; that I took. I could not get them to hold still at the same time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year Jack will be in Kindergarten. He has already informed me that he can get on the bus himself and does NOT need me to walk him to the bus stop &lt;em&gt;(it's a quarter of a mile away).&lt;/em&gt; I think he will have to put up with me for a while since there is just soo much mischief that he and his friends can get into between here and there !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5186580868134013847?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5186580868134013847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5186580868134013847' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5186580868134013847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5186580868134013847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/06/last-day-of-school.html' title='Last Day of School'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRrzMn8cAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/_vaGDvf7x64/s72-c/Jack+preschool.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3133306736892167663</id><published>2009-05-02T18:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T18:57:35.774-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hokey Pokey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talker'/><title type='text'>Madeline Chronicles</title><content type='html'>As I have mentioned in the past, Madeline is a talker. . . . with a capital "T".  If her eyes are open, her mouth is going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she goes to bed at night she usually has to "talk herself down" as I like to call it.  Also when she wakes up in the morning she "talks herself up". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week she was having a hard time going to sleep and I could hear her singing.  I stopped by her door to see what she was singing and it was The Hokey Pokey!  I quickly went to my room and laughed out loud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hokey Pokey?!  REALLY?!?  She is such a character!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3133306736892167663?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3133306736892167663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3133306736892167663' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3133306736892167663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3133306736892167663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/05/madeline-chronicles.html' title='Madeline Chronicles'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2412652809083024572</id><published>2009-04-17T09:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T10:10:27.196-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>This is April?!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, April the 16th, we woke up to 3 inches of SNOW on the ground.  What? you are asking yourself, surely she must have the dates wrong and be talking about January 16th or February 16th.  But no, it truly was &lt;strong&gt;the 16th of April&lt;/strong&gt; and there was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SNOW!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack and Madeline resigned themselves to staying inside for most of the morning &lt;em&gt;(if not the entire day)&lt;/em&gt; and found a great way to entertain themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SeimKL3HIQI/AAAAAAAAA00/odXmPnDdDq0/s1600-h/PICT0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325689253278458114" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SeimKL3HIQI/AAAAAAAAA00/odXmPnDdDq0/s400/PICT0007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They decided to get Madeline's bike and scooter out and ride it down the hall from her room, through the family room, into the kitchen, make a loop around the island and back down the hall to do it all over again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be completely honest, my first instinct was to shout over the commotion of the bike and scooter and Madeline's "hooping and hollering" &lt;em&gt;(honestly, that girl is NEVER quiet except when she's sleeping - but that is a post for another day)&lt;/em&gt; and sternly inform them that bikes and scooters were &lt;strong&gt;OUTSIDE&lt;/strong&gt; toys and we do not live in a jungle gym.  &lt;em&gt;(Similar to living in a barn, but a slightly different location) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I thought better of it and made them stop for a picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SeimJ4PTtTI/AAAAAAAAA0s/fJZQshGtPoU/s1600-h/PICT0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325689248011236658" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SeimJ4PTtTI/AAAAAAAAA0s/fJZQshGtPoU/s400/PICT0010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, what's a Mom to do?  When life give you lemons. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2412652809083024572?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2412652809083024572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2412652809083024572' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2412652809083024572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2412652809083024572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-april.html' title='This is April?!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SeimKL3HIQI/AAAAAAAAA00/odXmPnDdDq0/s72-c/PICT0007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8953270339191237562</id><published>2009-04-05T20:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T21:00:10.230-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hawaii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandma Harris'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>Daily Jack</title><content type='html'>While we were driving home from Pre-school Jack and I had the following conversation: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack:  Hey Mom, when are you and Dad going to Hawaii again? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME:  (slightly taken aback) Uhhh, I don't know.  Probably not for a while.  Why? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack:  Oh, just wondering - I think I would like to stay at Grandma's again for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME:  Oh really, why is that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack:  I would just like to go there alone without you and Dad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I'm pretty sure that what happens at Grandma's STAYS at Grandma's!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8953270339191237562?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8953270339191237562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8953270339191237562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8953270339191237562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8953270339191237562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/04/daily-jack.html' title='Daily Jack'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7173457967291624847</id><published>2009-04-05T20:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T20:55:46.154-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='run for my money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fake cry'/><title type='text'>Daily Madeline</title><content type='html'>On Saturday Mark was "helping" Jack and Madeline clean up their rooms.  Madeline was having a hard time staying on task - she's 3 AND she has the total Red Neck disease. . . . "Oh, somethin' SHiNy!  I must check it out!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Mark was getting after her and she said "Dad you are being MEAN!  I'm going to cry"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then proceeds to try to fake cry, stops mid boo-hoo and says "Hey, it's not working!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm not quite sure if she meant that she couldn't cry on demand or that it was no impact on her Dad whatsoever - probably some of both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've said it before, but I will say it again . . . 4 little words . . . "RUN FOR MY MONEY!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7173457967291624847?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7173457967291624847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7173457967291624847' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7173457967291624847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7173457967291624847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/04/daily-madeline.html' title='Daily Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-869628032856323392</id><published>2009-03-26T08:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T08:00:01.915-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Costco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><title type='text'>Just like Jade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scka83bAP4I/AAAAAAAAA0k/MtDwVE1Zb0M/s1600-h/PICT0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316810468059266946" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scka83bAP4I/AAAAAAAAA0k/MtDwVE1Zb0M/s400/PICT0019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other morning Jade came home from work at Costco and put her hat and hairnet on the kitchen table. She works in the Deli and is required to wear the hairnet, which doesn't make for a very good hair day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Along came Madeline. She picked up the hat and hairnet, put it on and exclaimed "look, I'm just like Jadie!" Hey mama, I'm Jadie now!" &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SckZg0jmQlI/AAAAAAAAA0U/NVsZsUgXX-0/s1600-h/PICT0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316808886742041170" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SckZg0jmQlI/AAAAAAAAA0U/NVsZsUgXX-0/s400/PICT0018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it just goes to show you never know who is watching you. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-869628032856323392?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/869628032856323392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=869628032856323392' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/869628032856323392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/869628032856323392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-like-jade.html' title='Just like Jade'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scka83bAP4I/AAAAAAAAA0k/MtDwVE1Zb0M/s72-c/PICT0019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3034182551545920989</id><published>2009-03-25T15:27:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T15:38:52.209-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Singing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All American Rejects'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gives you Hell'/><title type='text'>Hope It Gives You Hell = Mother of the Year (again)</title><content type='html'>So, even though I'm the big 4-0, I still like rockin' music. One of my favorites is "Gives You Hell" by The All American Rejects. Every time it comes on in the car I crank it up and sing away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all well and good, except that this morning after getting home from taking Jack to pre-school I hear Madeline &lt;em&gt;(age 3)&lt;/em&gt; singing at the top of her lungs in her room. . . . ."Find a man that's worth a damn. . . . . . hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, that &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mother of the Year Award&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; will look stunning on my mantle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click Here to see the video and hear the song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kju9VU2B7Bk"&gt;YouTube - The All-American Rejects - Gives You Hell Official Music Video w/ Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3034182551545920989?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3034182551545920989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3034182551545920989' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3034182551545920989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3034182551545920989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/03/youtube-all-american-rejects-gives-you.html' title='Hope It Gives You Hell = Mother of the Year (again)'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5291075788665641022</id><published>2009-03-24T10:22:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:12:35.892-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Magic Kingdon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family vacay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disneyland'/><title type='text'>The Happiest Place on Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg617bGWxI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Y9hpiBajIJo/s1600-h/DisneyPhoto+fam+at+castle2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316564058269702930" style="WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg617bGWxI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Y9hpiBajIJo/s400/DisneyPhoto+fam+at+castle2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to Disneyland at the end of February with some of the Bronson Family. Mark's Mom flew in from Reno and met us too. We all stayed at the same hotel and it was a blast - I mean what could be better than being next door neighbors to your sister for 3 days?!? It was the first time for Jack and Madeline - but certainly not the last, if they have anything to say about it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided to drive. I'm not really sure what craziness was going on in the our household when we made THAT decision, but it definately added to the adventure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First of all both Jack and Madeline decided that comfort was of utmost importance on this trip. When we left at 5:30 am. Madeline insisted that she bring her mouse slippers to wear. I was not about to argue with her at such an early hour, so I put her shoes in the car and carried her out - mouse slippers and all. The funny part was that she would put her shoes on to get out of the car at pit stops and then as soon as she was back in the car the shoes would come off and the slippers would go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjze5y6MVI/AAAAAAAAA0E/JZqSvIU9xPk/s1600-h/MEH+comfy+in+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316767072346845522" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjze5y6MVI/AAAAAAAAA0E/JZqSvIU9xPk/s400/MEH+comfy+in+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack decided that he needed a neck pillow - which I originally brought for me to sleep when it was my Dear Husband 's turn to drive. So much for THAT! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM7Z0TSGI/AAAAAAAAAyM/aj6FjnUDbmY/s1600-h/JRH+comfy+in+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316583943537117282" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM7Z0TSGI/AAAAAAAAAyM/aj6FjnUDbmY/s400/JRH+comfy+in+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did pretty good until we got to Primm, NV. There is an awesome outlet mall there and I really wanted to check out the Juicy Couture store. My Dear Husband was kind enough to stop - I think that it being lunch time had &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; to do with it, but I'll take it! After we spent about 1 1/2 hours eating and looking around, it took us about 30 minutes just to get back on the freeway! AAGGHH!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then as the day progressed, things slowly started to go downhill. During one stretch of 100 miles I think we stopped 3 times for potty breaks! Just so you know, there are NOT that many rest stops along the freeway in California. This means that we were pulling over and "going comando" along the side of the road. Jack of course thought this was fabulous, Madeline was a different story! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we get closer, my Dear Husband is driving and I am reading my book. We get to a point where we have about 500 yards before the freeway separates and he says to me "Hey which way do we need to go here?!?" WHAT?! I am digging around looking for the map I printed out on Google and he is saying "Hurry, which way do we need to go?" I am royally ticked off at this point and sarcastically ask him "Is this the first time you noticed that the freeway was separating?!? I have been READING MY BOOK and NOT paying attention to where we are going - that is YOUR job!" &lt;em&gt;(OK, just in case you are wondering, this did not help the situation at all and only made my Dear Husband more frusterated)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, of course we took the wrong road! Now he is mad for the next 30 miles or so, thinking we are lost. I am trying to find a real time map on his Blackberry &lt;em&gt;(which I NEVER use and so I don't have mad skillz)&lt;/em&gt; hoping we can get back on track. Eventually we got to our hotel, after the 30 mile detour, and kissed the gound when we finally stopped. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhoo - the next morning we went to the park nice and early. We had the obligatory picture taken in the front and Madeline put her hand out so they could put Tinkerbell on it. I don't know if you can see it very well in this picture, but for the next few pictures she would put her hand out like that - thinking that Tinkerbell would appear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg61_P8j5I/AAAAAAAAAxM/JEpTQUbJPfY/s1600-h/DisneyPhoto+fam+at+gate+w_+Tinkerbell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316564059296665490" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg61_P8j5I/AAAAAAAAAxM/JEpTQUbJPfY/s400/DisneyPhoto+fam+at+gate+w_+Tinkerbell.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first thing Jack wanted to do was go on Finding Nemo. Madeline of course, wanted to go to the castle. I tried to explain to her that you don't really go TO the castle, but you go &lt;em&gt;through&lt;/em&gt; the castle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to Finding Nemo first since that tends to get crowded. After that we were spending some time in Tomorrowland and Madeline was pretty patient for a while. Then as we were walking towards another ride, she pipes up "Hey! This is &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; the quickest way to the castle!!" It was pretty funny. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both of the kids had been looking at the autograph book with pictures that McKenna got when we came for her 5th birthday and so both wanted to get one of their own. Jack was pretty hesitant about getting autographs and even more adamant that he did NOT want his picture taken with some of the characters. Madeline on the other hand filled up her entire book and gladly posed with anyone and everyone! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we met Mr. &amp;amp; Mrs. Incredible, I practically had to drag Jack over to get the autograph and then physically hold him to have his picture taken. Here he looks as though he is being held hostage and in a way he was!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM8jA8LeI/AAAAAAAAAyc/Lp-yXz2XMFk/s1600-h/DisneyPhotoJRH+and+Incredibles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316583963185917410" style="WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM8jA8LeI/AAAAAAAAAyc/Lp-yXz2XMFk/s400/DisneyPhotoJRH+and+Incredibles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Madeline loved Fantasyland and demanded that we go on the teacups. I was pretty apprehensive since I hate that ride and didn't really want to spin around crazily for 2 minutes. &lt;em&gt;(what sadistical person thought up THAT ride?!?) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First we had our picture taken in a stationary teacup, but Jack declined to go on the actual ride. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM9Rd1sRI/AAAAAAAAAys/ZlxhzDWXQvM/s1600-h/JBH+and+kids+in+teacup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316583975655158034" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM9Rd1sRI/AAAAAAAAAys/ZlxhzDWXQvM/s400/JBH+and+kids+in+teacup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got onto the ride I decided to leave the big wheel that turns the teacup alone and just let the ride do it's thing. Madeline loved it and put her hands up as if she were on the rollercoaster! She always makes me laugh! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRuCs6MRI/AAAAAAAAAzM/QO9sQFGZIKM/s1600-h/MEH+arms+up+on+teacups.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316589211551936786" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRuCs6MRI/AAAAAAAAAzM/QO9sQFGZIKM/s400/MEH+arms+up+on+teacups.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were on the teacups, Jack decided to check out the car from Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRtw00ZqI/AAAAAAAAAzE/Bxz2SKfa4pE/s1600-h/JRH+-Toady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316589206753273506" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRtw00ZqI/AAAAAAAAAzE/Bxz2SKfa4pE/s400/JRH+-Toady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the highlights for me was taking Madeline to Ariel's Grotto for lunch. This is where you get to see all the princesses and have a fabulous lunch too. Mark and Jack declined lunch with the princesses and so Mark's mom and I just took Madeline. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was really cute. They had a duke who gave each princess a little introduction during lunch and she came out with all kids of fanfare and then went to every single table, signed autographs and had her picture taken with each girl. Madeline was in awe the entire time. It was priceless to see her face each time a princess came out. It was pretty spendy, but well worth it to see Madeline's excitement and awe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some pictures: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Upon arrival we met Ariel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw8AMadNI/AAAAAAAAAzk/U_D6IxiyOl0/s1600-h/MEH+and+Ariel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316764273745753298" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw8AMadNI/AAAAAAAAAzk/U_D6IxiyOl0/s400/MEH+and+Ariel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is MY princess with Cinderella showing their beautiful dresses. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRuefgPFI/AAAAAAAAAzU/vnYBYnIOUCA/s1600-h/MEH+and+Cinderella.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316589219011902546" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRuefgPFI/AAAAAAAAAzU/vnYBYnIOUCA/s400/MEH+and+Cinderella.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After having her picture taken with Aurora &lt;em&gt;(Sleeping Beauty - Madeline's favorite)&lt;/em&gt; she turned around and gave her a HUGE hug. It was adorable and of course I missed it with my camera! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw7w2jVOI/AAAAAAAAAzc/3Vl9nmbscos/s1600-h/MEH+and+Aurora.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316764269627528418" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw7w2jVOI/AAAAAAAAAzc/3Vl9nmbscos/s400/MEH+and+Aurora.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to tell you one thing about her dress. She deperately wanted to buy a dress in the little shop that is just outside the castle - cause that's where the princesses shop! I had packed several of her other princess dresses hoping to avoid just such a thing, but she was NOT going for it. When she picked the white wedding dress with all the princesses on a button at the top and made the argument that she didn't have that one, I gave in. &lt;em&gt;(I'm getting pretty soft in my old age and with my "second batch"!)&lt;/em&gt; I also sprung for a new crown - as I patientely explained to her Dad "If you get a new dress you HAVE to have a new crown to go with it! Duhhh!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wore the dress all that day and the next day as well. Everywhere we went people would stop and point at her and comment how beautiful she was. She was quite the spectacle and it made her feel like even more of a princess. There were several people who asked to take her picture along with others who just snapped a picture randomly. I'm sure she is in quite a few oriental people's vacay photos - they were going crazy over her! We thought it was quite amusing and I guess the dress was worth the cost. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day Madeline got her face painted. Later that day while in California Adventure we ran into Aunt Norma who had also had her face painted! Aren't they cute? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw8slOoOI/AAAAAAAAAzs/xrJI30547RI/s1600-h/Norma+kitty+and+MEH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316764285660995810" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw8slOoOI/AAAAAAAAAzs/xrJI30547RI/s400/Norma+kitty+and+MEH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our second night we thought it would be fun to take everyone and go to the beach, roast some hot dogs and hang out. As usual things like this always &lt;em&gt;sound&lt;/em&gt; better than they actually go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we first got there the wind had picked up and it was a little chilly. No big deal. However, I had put my kids in flip flops, thinking if we were on the beach that would be the best thing. What I failed to take into account was how super freaky Jack is about his feet. He went into major melt-down mode about the sand in between his toes. Here he is still melting down about the flip-flops: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg62Z9rjjI/AAAAAAAAAxU/31aLQ0K4Mo0/s1600-h/JBH_JRH+on+beach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316564066467810866" style="WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg62Z9rjjI/AAAAAAAAAxU/31aLQ0K4Mo0/s400/JBH_JRH+on+beach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To keep us warm and give us something to cook our "dogs" on, my B-I-L Curtis came totally prepred. Here is my Dad, Mark and Curtis stoking the fire that they made big enough to signal the space station! &lt;em&gt;(Curtis is also the Scoutmaster in charge of all campouts for the YM in his ward. Concidence?!? I think NOT!)&lt;/em&gt; Thanks for taking care of us Curtis - you ROCK!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SckNyGJeKZI/AAAAAAAAA0M/46azUKFGB1M/s1600-h/PICT0084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316795989382539666" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SckNyGJeKZI/AAAAAAAAA0M/46azUKFGB1M/s400/PICT0084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'll notice that the beach seems a little deserted. Weelll, there was one other couple trying to have a romantic evening when we first arrived and shortly after we put our stuff down they quickly left. I'm sure they were thinking "Of all the places on the beach ya'll have to choose the one RIGHT NEXT to us?!?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here I am with the love of my life. We had a good time despite the wind and the neurotic child's meltdown! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg62wOCjwI/AAAAAAAAAxc/piEavj35Ly4/s1600-h/M%26J+on+beach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316564072442007298" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg62wOCjwI/AAAAAAAAAxc/piEavj35Ly4/s400/M%26J+on+beach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our second day as we were going into the park Madeline turned to me and said "Oh, McKenna is here." I said "Oh, really?" and she just said "Yeah, she is." She was really matter of fact about the whole thing and so I said, "Well, McKenna loved Disneyland." And Madeline said "Yep, I know." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SX9AfamXZFI/AAAAAAAAAwk/s0gfbGSfRQM/s1600-h/McK+Halloween+00_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296022595271353426" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SX9AfamXZFI/AAAAAAAAAwk/s0gfbGSfRQM/s400/McK+Halloween+00_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It made me cry a little, since for McKenna's 5th birthday &lt;em&gt;(which we knew would be her last)&lt;/em&gt; we told her she could do anything she wanted to for her birthday. She choose Disneyland. &lt;em&gt;(I was thinking more along the lines of Chuck E. Cheese or something)&lt;/em&gt;, but when you know that there won't be anymore birthdays to celebrate, it doesn't really matter how much of stretch it will be - you just do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our way home we stopped in Las Vegas for lunch at In and Out Burger. We all ordered burgers, etc. The total came to just under $18. Mark said to me "Wow what a &lt;strong&gt;DEAL&lt;/strong&gt;! Only $18 for lunch for the 4 of us?!" I guess you just get used to paying the crazy monopoly money prices at the Magical Kingdom and forget what it is in the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided to walk down the strip and show the kids the fountains at the Bellagio. As we were waiting for the light, this is what we saw. . . . check out the dog! Only in Vegas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw97nApyI/AAAAAAAAAz8/H1LnJXjiYVw/s1600-h/vegas+dog+on+motorcycle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316764306874869538" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw97nApyI/AAAAAAAAAz8/H1LnJXjiYVw/s400/vegas+dog+on+motorcycle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later we were feeling parched and Mama needed a drink, so we stopped at the Coke Factory. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw9PJSQEI/AAAAAAAAAz0/vpSpB6p1NRY/s1600-h/family+at+coke+factory.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316764294939033666" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scjw9PJSQEI/AAAAAAAAAz0/vpSpB6p1NRY/s400/family+at+coke+factory.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall we had a GREAT time. There were a few hiccups, but like I always say "If nothing bad or crazy ever happened, you wouldn't remember it!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM89vxMWI/AAAAAAAAAyk/4cU-ZeYfqkk/s1600-h/Harris+fam+_+celebration.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316583970361651554" style="WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchM89vxMWI/AAAAAAAAAyk/4cU-ZeYfqkk/s400/Harris+fam+_+celebration.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline and Dad gave our trip two thumbs up and Jack is already plotting for our next trip! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRtRkyY3I/AAAAAAAAAy8/6z4fSr507tI/s1600-h/MEH+and+MRH+thumbs+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316589198364533618" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SchRtRkyY3I/AAAAAAAAAy8/6z4fSr507tI/s400/MEH+and+MRH+thumbs+up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5291075788665641022?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5291075788665641022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5291075788665641022' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5291075788665641022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5291075788665641022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/03/happiest-place-on-earth.html' title='The Happiest Place on Earth'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/Scg617bGWxI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Y9hpiBajIJo/s72-c/DisneyPhoto+fam+at+castle2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7959808916497510156</id><published>2009-01-31T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T12:15:55.430-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandma Bronson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dr. Winn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stats'/><title type='text'>Yearly Check up for Jack &amp; Madeline</title><content type='html'>Last week Jack and Madeline both had to go to the doctor for their yearly check. Since their birthdays are 4 days apart, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and take them together. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack went for his 5 year old Kindergarten check. It wasn't as scary as it normally would be since Grandma Bronson is the nurse for our pediatrician - Dr. Winn. After Grandma weighed and measured him and gave him an eye test, Madeline insisted that SHE needed an eye test as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBI0nc-UI/AAAAAAAAAws/5YK_xPE4yL8/s1600-h/PICT0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298275106443557186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBI0nc-UI/AAAAAAAAAws/5YK_xPE4yL8/s400/PICT0001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jack's Stats&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Height: 45 inches = 88th percentile &lt;em&gt;(this means that out of 100 kids his same age he is taller than 88 of them)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Weight: 44 lbs = 73rd percentile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Madeline's Stats:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBJO9grVI/AAAAAAAAAw0/JWpkRjQ35mo/s1600-h/PICT0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298275113515396434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBJO9grVI/AAAAAAAAAw0/JWpkRjQ35mo/s400/PICT0002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Height: 39 inches = 90th percentile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Weight: 32 lbs. = 68th percentile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After Dr. Winn looked them over, we were sitting in the exam room and Jack asked me "what happens next Mom?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uh-oh this is the part I didn't really want to tell them. . . . so I put on a cheery voice and tried to pretend like it was no big deal and say "Well, next you need to have some shots to protect you . . . ." It was all over at that point. As soon as Jack &amp;amp; Madeline heard the word - - SHOT - - they both started to cry and wail. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enter Grandma. She has the shots all prepared and we decide that Madeline will go first since she only needs 1 shot. And, truth be told, she takes these things MUCH better than her brother. That whole drama when you are sick thing starts early for the men. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack starts to cry because he thinks we are hurting Madeline and decides to make a break for it. He ran out the door and down the hall towards the outside door before one of the other nurses caught him and was bringing him back when I was finally able to get out of the room to see where he had gone! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It took both me and my Mom holding him while she gave him the shots (5!!). All I can say is that my Mom has MAD skills to hold the kid's legs and give shots faster than you can imagine while my skinny son &lt;em&gt;(see stats above)&lt;/em&gt; has suddenly become freakishly strong and is trying with all his might to get away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During all this drama Madeline is crying and saying "Don't hurt my brother - leave him alone - you are HURTING him!!" When we were done she came right over to him and gave him a hug and told him she was sorry and they both cried together. It was sweet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterward Grandma felt really bad and gave them each a hug and told them that she wasn't trying to hurt them, but it was her job to make sure they didn't get sick. THEN she pulled out the superhero and princess stickers along with some M&amp;amp;Ms and PrESto - life was good again. Although Jack talked about his shots for the rest of the day, while Madeline was totally fine. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBJZjbXRI/AAAAAAAAAw8/P244meygklU/s1600-h/PICT0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298275116358786322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBJZjbXRI/AAAAAAAAAw8/P244meygklU/s400/PICT0003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7959808916497510156?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7959808916497510156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7959808916497510156' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7959808916497510156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7959808916497510156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/01/yearly-check-up-for-jack-madeline.html' title='Yearly Check up for Jack &amp; Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SYdBI0nc-UI/AAAAAAAAAws/5YK_xPE4yL8/s72-c/PICT0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3385207063832554698</id><published>2009-01-27T10:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:09:25.762-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McKenna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday McKenna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SX9AfamXZFI/AAAAAAAAAwk/s0gfbGSfRQM/s1600-h/McK+Halloween+00_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296022595271353426" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SX9AfamXZFI/AAAAAAAAAwk/s0gfbGSfRQM/s400/McK+Halloween+00_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is a bittersweet day for me and our family. Today would have been McKenna's 13th Birthday. You may have noticed her picture on the side of my blog and wondered . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;McKenna was born on an early Saturday morning at 5:23 am. This time is important as it is the same time that she returned to her Heavenly Father just 5 short years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;McKenna's arrival was a much anticipated event in our family. We had been married for just over three years and were excited to add to our "instant family" of Jordan, Matt &amp;amp; Jade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From the moment we brought McKenna home there was scarcely a time that she was not held, cuddled and entertained. Jade was especially attentive - she was 6 and thought of her as her own personal baby doll. The love we all had for her was so obvious that a friend of ours dubbed her "The Love Child". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite all this attention, McKenna was not spoiled. She was good natured and loving to everyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though we only had her for 5 short years here on this earth, I feel so lucky to have been her Mama and for the chance to know her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All this said, it is still a hard and painful realization that she is really gone. I often find myself looking at my friend's daughters and wondering "Would she be friends with those girls? What would she look like? How would she dress? Would she like the Jonas Brothers? Hannah Montana? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that she would be SUCH a great big sister to Jack and Madeline. They know about her and I think in some remote part of their minds they remember something of her from before they came to this earth. We go to "Her Place" often and both kids talk about her as if she were right here - - and who am I to say that she is not? Watching over our family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that one day I will be able to see her again, hold her and love her, but until that day. . . we are missing her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Happy 13th Birthday Little Mouse!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your Family loves you more than you know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3385207063832554698?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3385207063832554698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3385207063832554698' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3385207063832554698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3385207063832554698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-birthday-mckenna.html' title='Happy Birthday McKenna'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SX9AfamXZFI/AAAAAAAAAwk/s0gfbGSfRQM/s72-c/McK+Halloween+00_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3007966653262521949</id><published>2009-01-20T04:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T04:24:01.179-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter blah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mac-n-cheese'/><title type='text'>Baby It's COLD Outside!</title><content type='html'>The past few weeks have been really cold here in Utah, along with lots of snow.  It's this time of the year that is the hardest for me - mentally and emotionally.  There's not much sun and I don't usually go outside except to scurry to and from my car and to get the mail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we live on the lake, there is lots of fog in the morning, which can be dangerous, but usually by the time I have to take Jack to pre-school the sun is out and the fog leaves the trees looking beautiful.  The other day as I was on my way into town, I couldn't resist and pulled over to the side of the road to take this picture at the park near our house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_zvIXkQI/AAAAAAAAAtI/F7zdA32g4pI/s1600-h/091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292784882636263682" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_zvIXkQI/AAAAAAAAAtI/F7zdA32g4pI/s400/091.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as I mentioned before, the doldrums of winter can get even the best of us down.  Do you ever feel like my yard rooster?   Up to your neck in "blah"? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_z3x28RI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/OLVTvSuA4oY/s1600-h/092.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_0p-OKtI/AAAAAAAAAtY/EbT0lAIeJqY/s1600-h/093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292784898431396562" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_0p-OKtI/AAAAAAAAAtY/EbT0lAIeJqY/s400/093.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is another picture of the yard rooster to give you some perspective. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_1GJxbPI/AAAAAAAAAtg/df1-fsOkPQw/s1600-h/094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292784905996037362" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_1GJxbPI/AAAAAAAAAtg/df1-fsOkPQw/s400/094.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the only thing that will make you feel good is some good old fashioned comfort food.  I have found just the perfect thing - gourmet macaroni and cheese.  I know what you are thinking - GOURMET Mac-n-Cheese? That's an oxymoron!  Well, just wait until you try it.  I'm not claiming that it is low-fat, but hey it's the third week of January and it's about this time I fall off the "eat only healthy things" wagon anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try it you might like it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ultimate Mac-n-Cheese&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 box elbow macaroni (16 oz)&lt;br /&gt;1 lb. bacon&lt;br /&gt;1 medium onion, diced&lt;br /&gt;5 tbsp. butter&lt;br /&gt;6 tbsp. flour&lt;br /&gt;1 tbsp. Dijon mustard&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 c. whole milk&lt;br /&gt;2 c. heavy cream&lt;br /&gt;1 sprig fresh thyme&lt;br /&gt;1 bay leaf&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp. salt&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 c. grated Fontina cheese*&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. crumbled blue cheese&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 c. grated chedder jack cheese&lt;br /&gt;3/4 c. grated Parmesean cheese&lt;br /&gt;3 tbsp. chopped parseley&lt;br /&gt;1/4 c. bread crumbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Heat oven to 450 degrees, grease a 9x13x2 baking dish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil.  Cook pasta according to package and drain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Saute bacon until crisp.  Remove, crumble when cool and reserve.  Add onion to bacon drippings; saute until soft.  Add butter to pot and melt, stirring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Whisk in flour, stirring constantly until smooth and light brown in color.  Whisk in mustard.  Gradually add milk and cream, whisking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Stir in thyme, bay leave and salt.  Bring to a simmer.  Stir frequently, simmering, for 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Quickly mix in blue cheese, 1 c. Fontina cheese, 1 c. cheddar jack cheese, 1/2 c. parmesean cheese.  Stir until all cheeses are melted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Add pasta to cheese and stir until coated.  Pour in baking dish.  In a small bowl mix remaining cheese and bread crumbs.  Sprinkle over pasta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Bake at 450 for 15 minutes or until bubbling and golden brown.  Let rest 5 minutes before serving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; * I couldn't find Fontina cheese at my local grocery store &lt;em&gt;(something I plan to take up with Joe Albertson)&lt;/em&gt; so I just increased the cheddar jack cheese to 3 cups.  The original recipe also called for 3/4 c. Gruyere cheese, but when I did find it, it was $17 for about 1/4 lb.  - not really in my budget for just one meal, so I decided to just increase the cheddar jack and parmesean to compensate.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the modifications it turned out great and my family loved it.  Well, everyone except for Jack - the word picky eater doesn't even BEGIN to describe him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you make it, let me know what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3007966653262521949?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3007966653262521949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3007966653262521949' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3007966653262521949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3007966653262521949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/01/baby-its-cold-outside.html' title='Baby It&apos;s COLD Outside!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXO_zvIXkQI/AAAAAAAAAtI/F7zdA32g4pI/s72-c/091.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4892685741560728365</id><published>2009-01-18T15:03:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T16:19:52.242-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother of the year'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surgery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><title type='text'>SuRGerY =  MoTHeR of the YeAR!!</title><content type='html'>Before you start this post, I want you to rest assured that I have already been nominated for "Mother of the Year" for this incident that you are about to read, so you don't need to go to the trouble. . . . &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade was a cheerleader for 4 years &lt;em&gt;(grades 9-12).&lt;/em&gt; During this time she worked on and perfected her tumbling. She was fun to watch and when her squad performed for competitions, Jade was one of the ones who tumbled throughout the routine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About mid-way though her Senior year in High School she started complaining about her foot and toes hurting. I brushed her off - telling her to take it easy and "stop wearing flip flops all the time - you probably just stubbed it!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, she kept complaining and nagging me to take her to the doctor. I finally relented &lt;em&gt;(after about 9 months)&lt;/em&gt; figuring that this was not something that was just going to go away. I mean she was walking only on the outside of her foot when I finally made the appointment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to a podiatrist and he thought that she may have a neuroma - something that usually occurs on older people with diabetes. Jade didn't really fit that profile, but it can occur in younger people who have had a traumatic injury. Jade didn't really remember any one event of falling, stubbing her toe, etc. &lt;em&gt;(there have been many - she was blessed with my grace. . . .) &lt;/em&gt;So the first thing the doctor tried was giving her a steroid shot in her foot &lt;em&gt;(on the top, between the 2nd and 3rd toes - OUCH!)&lt;/em&gt; to try to break up the neuroma. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This didn't work and so after another 2 months we decided that she REALLY did need surgery. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had to be at the hospital at 5:45 am - a number on the clock that I am not crazy to see and Jade is even LESS crazy about. We tried to have her surgery scheduled at Timp Hospital since that is where my sister Norma is an O.R. nurse, but our insurance said we had to go to Utah Valley. &lt;em&gt;(X$%#&amp;amp;&amp;amp;!! insurance)&lt;/em&gt; It would have been so much more fun to make it a family event! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When she got all ready and we were waiting for her to go back to surgery &lt;em&gt;(it's always hurry up and wait),&lt;/em&gt; I realized that I had my camera in my purse and brought it out. Jade wasn't very happy with me when I told her that this momentous occasion was blogworthy. She made the snide remark about how I should wait until my &lt;strong&gt;Mother of the Year award&lt;/strong&gt; came and THEN post it since I took almost a year for her to get her foot fixed and according to her "if I can't physically SEE the problem - it obviously doesn't exist!"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told her it was a character building experience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the pictures I'll be showing during my acceptance speech: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is Jade BEFORE they gave her feel good drugs - she's not too happy and doesn't want her picture taken. I can't imagine why - I mean I think that the hairnet is just "bringin' SeXY back!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOtL1kEW2I/AAAAAAAAAtA/uHeP9Dleq78/s1600-h/323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292764405958990690" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOtL1kEW2I/AAAAAAAAAtA/uHeP9Dleq78/s400/323.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Before they operate, they have you draw on the body part that is being operated on and initial it. Just to make sure they get the right one. Here is Jade's foot with her autograph and Dr. G's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOqzgtDj1I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/_SBvkLA_MOg/s1600-h/324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292761789019426642" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOqzgtDj1I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/_SBvkLA_MOg/s400/324.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;There she goes - being wheeled into surgery. Too bad it's not MY sister wheeling her back. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOq0D82w0I/AAAAAAAAAsY/GUmQkaJH3k0/s1600-h/325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292761798480937794" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOq0D82w0I/AAAAAAAAAsY/GUmQkaJH3k0/s400/325.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Jade and Dr. G. - AFTER the surgery - notice how she is all smiles - yeah love those mind altering drugs! We love Dr. G - he has been great throughout this whole thing. &lt;em&gt;(And it couldn't hurt that he thought I was Jade's big sister the first time we met!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOq2QpY_gI/AAAAAAAAAsg/hjaY6M_hyOQ/s1600-h/326.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292761836248694274" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOq2QpY_gI/AAAAAAAAAsg/hjaY6M_hyOQ/s400/326.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is her foot, all yellow from the beta dine (sp). The surgery went really well and Dr. G said that there was definitely a neuroma in there. He is sure that it came from a previous injury. I think tumbling was the culprit, but who knows?!!? Notice the SNaPPy shoe - she gets to wear this cute thing for 2 weeks. Yep, definitely bringin' Sexy Back with this baby! She would like to "Bedazzle" it - so if anyone out there is willing to share their bedazzler, let me know. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOq26cz-PI/AAAAAAAAAso/_xYdcWpvyNk/s1600-h/327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292761847470225650" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOq26cz-PI/AAAAAAAAAso/_xYdcWpvyNk/s400/327.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Jade shortly after the surgery giving me "two thumbs up". Definitely still on heavy drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOrTlynVtI/AAAAAAAAAsw/6K3u35z2LAc/s1600-h/328.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292762340140734162" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOrTlynVtI/AAAAAAAAAsw/6K3u35z2LAc/s400/328.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is a picture of Jade as we were getting ready to go home - they now give you these disposable shorts to wear under your gown so you are not flashing everyone when you get up to use the ladies room! What a great idea!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOrTnfSSsI/AAAAAAAAAs4/TR5tPDJ_nDU/s1600-h/329.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292762340596533954" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOrTnfSSsI/AAAAAAAAAs4/TR5tPDJ_nDU/s400/329.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade has spent the past few days at home either on the couch or in her bed and Jack has appointed himself as her personal nurse. Two days ago when she came upstairs in the morning, Jack got out the down blanket &lt;em&gt;(he calls it "Puffy")&lt;/em&gt; and arranged some pillows on the couch so she could put her foot up. Then he was very solicitous about getting her water, making sure the TV was on the right channel etc. He is such a sweet boy - she couldn't ask for a better nursemaid! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4892685741560728365?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4892685741560728365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4892685741560728365' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4892685741560728365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4892685741560728365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/01/surgery-mother-of-year.html' title='SuRGerY =  MoTHeR of the YeAR!!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SXOtL1kEW2I/AAAAAAAAAtA/uHeP9Dleq78/s72-c/323.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5370579588553540171</id><published>2009-01-10T08:48:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T09:32:56.102-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loving husband'/><title type='text'>Lessons Learned</title><content type='html'>This post is all about the "lessons" that my loving husband learned spending a week at home with us during the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First let me explain. Since Mark works everyday he is not home much to see what "really" goes on around here during the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, sure I &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to tell him about how crazy it is to take the kids to run errands. I &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to make him understand that not only do they have a time limit as to how long they will tolerate running here and there, but we also have a "place limit" - meaning that regardless of how short or long it is they don't like to go to more than say 3 different places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that being said, here is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LESSON #1:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When taking the kids to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart, the grocery store or any other place that offers a cart for the almost 3 year old to ride in - TAKE IT and INSIST that said 3 year old rides IN THE CART!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart we got a cart, but Madeline was balking at riding in the cart. Loving Husband said "Oh, it's OK, she can just ride on the back and hold on while her brother walks beside us - - really it will be fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I smirk to myself "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Amateur&lt;/span&gt;". Outwardly I say "OK Honey, but you are responsible for keeping track of them while we shop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough as soon as we get anywhere near something they find interesting - Madeline bails off the cart and follows her brother to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving Husband patiently stops and rounds them up - over to the cart - and explains that they can't just be running off. &lt;em&gt;(Yea, you GO honey!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go a little further and the same thing happens again - - and again - - and again. What can I say? My kids are kind of like Rednecks - - "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ohhh&lt;/span&gt;, look &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;somethin&lt;/span&gt;' &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ShInY&lt;/span&gt;! I must touch it!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We manage to make it out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart and then it is on to Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same scenario with the cart. Madeline refusing to get in - Loving Husband insisting that she "promise" to stay on the cart and not jump off at will. Then giving in and letting her ride on the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;suicide&lt;/span&gt; step" on the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did the man learn NOTHING from the previous stop?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you know what happened - lots of shiny things in Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we are loading the kids into the car, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;EXASPERATED&lt;/span&gt; Loving Husbands tells me "taking these two anywhere is like trying to heard cats!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you don't say?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our last stop was Costco. This time as we approach the cart, Madeline starts with the whole "I don't want to get in" business and Loving Husband firmly tells her "No way in the world am I letting you ride on the back - you are riding IN THE CART!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a GREAT idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lesson #2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you see something that could possibly make a mess - make sure it is out of reach of the 3 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Mark changed Madeline's diaper and used baby powder &lt;em&gt;(she calls it baby sauce).&lt;/em&gt; After changing her HE LEFT THE POWDER ON A LOW SHELF IN THE CLOSET!! He goes away thinking all is well and he's the man - changing her diaper &lt;em&gt;(he actually does that regularly)&lt;/em&gt; AND using baby powder besides!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly thereafter, we smell a strong odor of baby powder - Loving Husband goes to investigate. The ENTIRE room is covered in baby powder! Mark then asks Madeline "what happened here?" and she tells him that she made it SNOW in her room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked Loving Husband &lt;strong&gt;WHY&lt;/strong&gt; he left the baby powder somewhere where she could reach it, his response was &lt;em&gt;(this is priceless)&lt;/em&gt; "I &lt;em&gt;never thought&lt;/em&gt; that she would get into it and make it snow!" I told him that he was practically INVITING her to get into it - she is "busy" that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still cleaning up baby powder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day after a particularly crazy day - the kids were whining, we were tired and it was only 5:00 pm - Loving Husband turned to me and said "you know that thing you have on the fridge that says Stay-at-Home Moms would make around $134,000 per year if paid for all that they do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, what about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving Husband:&lt;/strong&gt; You are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; underpaid! That $134k is just not nearly enough!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt; vindication. I love being at home even though it has it's moments - what job doesn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what made my day, week, and month was that my Loving Husband realized just how much physical and mental work it is to be at home all day. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;This job is not for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;wimps&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;P.S. He was REALLY looking forward to going back to work on Monday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5370579588553540171?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5370579588553540171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5370579588553540171' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5370579588553540171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5370579588553540171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/01/lessons-learned.html' title='Lessons Learned'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4342688278509861266</id><published>2009-01-08T12:08:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:12:25.167-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Daily Madeline</title><content type='html'>Madeline turned 3 last week and one of her presents was a "Sleeping Beauty" movie. When she opened it she said . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Ohhh, Sleeping Beauty! I LOVE this movie - it has evil in it."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I be concerned?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four words here: &lt;strong&gt;Run - - For - - My - - Money!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4342688278509861266?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4342688278509861266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4342688278509861266' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4342688278509861266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4342688278509861266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2009/01/daily-madeline.html' title='Daily Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6215603649307275204</id><published>2008-12-29T21:10:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T15:35:05.532-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas letter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='year in review'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it's been over a &lt;strong&gt;MoNTh&lt;/strong&gt; since I last updated my blog and what can I say. . . I took and extended break? I was soo busy making all kinds of holiday goodies that I just didn't have time. . . more like EATING all kinds of holiday goodies!! I'm pretty sure that all my hard work over the summer &lt;em&gt;(&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/four-months-but-whos-counting.html"&gt;remember 140 by 40?!?&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/em&gt; has been completely destroyed by my weak willpower when it comes to sweets!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to post an update on our family since I didn't get around to even sending out a Christmas letter with our cards - - hey, at least I got the cards out right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the rundown of our 2008:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;February:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Took the "big kids" on a cruise along with some of my family to the Caribbean to celebrate my parent's wedding anniversary - - and made it a graduation gift for Matt &amp;amp; Jade. Jack and Madeline had a GREAT time staying with Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa Harris and came back completely spoiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;May:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; An eventful month - our basement flooded &lt;em&gt;(frozen hose bib)&lt;/em&gt; resulting in tearing out the carpet and drywall in both of the downstairs bedrooms. Poor Jade had just had her wisdom teeth out and had gone to bed when I woke her up and said "Um, I know that you just had your wisdom teeth out and are totally drugged up right now, but I REALLY need you to help me move your dresser - - we have LOTS of water in your room!" She was a great sport and helped me the best she could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if that weren't enough excitement, a week later the engine in our Jeep "threw a rod" - as I understand it, this is very bad and now I know that this is VERY expensive!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then something GREAT happened - - Jade and Matt both graduated from high school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/jades-graduation.html"&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; for pictures of Jade's graduation. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/matts-graduation.html"&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; for pictures of Matt's graduation. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was lots of fun, especially since I was on the "Grad Night committee" at Jade's high school and in charge of all the games at Grad Night. This meant that I got to go to Grad Night too. Jade was a good sport about it and we had a lot of fun. The best game?! Using the "drunk goggles" from the Utah Highway Patrol to navigate a obstacle course - hysterical!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/grad-night-party.html"&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; for Grad Night pics.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;July:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Matt received his mission call to the San Fernando, CA - Spanish speaking mission - reporting to the MTC on September 17, 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;August:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Mark &amp;amp; Jana rode in the "Utah Lake Epic Century Ride" (ULCER) around Utah Lake (the &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; lake - 112 miles). This was my first Century ride and I had never ridden 100 miles before. 75 miles, sure but not 100. I finished, but it was not pretty at times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/08/check-this-one-off-list.html"&gt;Click here &lt;/a&gt;to read more about THAT adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade started college at Utah Valley University and Jack started pre-school at Miss Hollie's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/first-day-of-school.html"&gt;see pics here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;September:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Matt entered the MTC on the 17th - I think he was a little scared about all that he would have to learn, but I also think he was looking forward to it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally found an old bike to put on my porch &lt;em&gt;(after about 4 years of searching!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/more-trash-to-treasure.html"&gt;CLICK HERE &lt;/a&gt;to see some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark and I went to Hawaii for a structural engineering conference. Yeah, he did the work while I laid in a lounge chair by the pool and read my book. I also managed to &lt;strong&gt;completely&lt;/strong&gt; stick my foot in my mouth BIG TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/10/hawaii-im-huge-slacker.html"&gt;Click here &lt;/a&gt;to read more . . . you see some things never change!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;November:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I turned 40 - yikes! But, it wasn't as bad as I imagined and I had a great birthday. &lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no-big-4-0.html"&gt;Click here &lt;/a&gt;to see pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;December:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Here is a brief update on all the kids:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jordan (22)&lt;/strong&gt; Living in Provo and working as a brick mason. He seems to like it, although it is a bit sporadic at times and I think that is hard for him. He just moved into a house with his girlfriend Karen and seems upbeat about life. He comes home about once a month or so for dinner, etc. I wish we saw him more, but I guess he has a life too - at least he calls every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Matt (19)&lt;/strong&gt; Arrived in San Fernando on November 17th. He is adjusting to missionary life and still working on his language skills. His companion is from Peru and speaks only Spanish - this is sometimes trying, but he has a good attitude and I think he will be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jade (18)&lt;/strong&gt; Working at Costco &lt;em&gt;(24 hours a week!)&lt;/em&gt; and just finished her first semester at UVU. She is living at home, determined to "sponge off us as long as she can" &lt;em&gt;(her words).&lt;/em&gt; All joking aside, I am glad that she is at home, even though I don't see her much between work, school and her boyfriend, Willy who is also attending UVU. She is a great big sister to Jack and Madeline and will even still babysit for me on occasion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jack (almost 5)&lt;/strong&gt; Goes to pre-school 3 days a week and loves it. He is learning site words and can sound out a few words on his own. He loves all things "super hero". Right now his latest obsession is Indiana Jones. He has a whip, hat and now a pouch to store his important things in. He goes around the house constantly humming the Indiana Jones theme song!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Madeline (almost 3)&lt;/strong&gt; Loves all things princess. If you ask her what her full name is she will say "Madeline Princess Harris". She also loves animals and sometimes thinks she is a cat. To read a funny story about that &lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/10/daily-madeline.html"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;. She has lots of personality and I am quite sure she is going to give me a run for my money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mark &lt;/strong&gt;- Still working for Reaveley Engineers and is keeping busy &lt;em&gt;(a good thing these days!)&lt;/em&gt; He has introduced me to biking and we have been riding together quite a bit. He learned to "surf" behind the boat this year and loves it - much easier on your body than slalom skiing! Went on a "Man Trip" with some friends to jet ski down the Colorado River and had a great time. He is currently serving as the assistant Ward Clerk in charge of memberships and callings and whatever else they need him to do. Our ward is crazy big - we have lived here for 4 years and have been in 4 wards! We split about every year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jana&lt;/strong&gt; - Busy chasing kids and trying to keep up on everything &lt;em&gt;(including my Blog!)&lt;/em&gt; I recently played my violin in church - scary, but I'm glad I was able to do it. This was one of my "Four by 40 goals." I am still taking lessons and hopefully I will get better so that when I get out the violin Madeline won't tell me "That thing annoys us!" &lt;em&gt;(true story!)&lt;/em&gt; After taking a break from Young Women's, I was recently called as a Sunbeam teacher in our ward &lt;em&gt;(my class has 14 kids and there are two classes that big!). &lt;/em&gt;You know, I am noticing that there are lots of similarities between YW and Sunbeams!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had a great 2008 and wish you and your family all the best during this holiday season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark, Jana&lt;br /&gt;Jordan, Matt, Jade, Jack &amp;amp; Madeline&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6215603649307275204?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6215603649307275204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6215603649307275204' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6215603649307275204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6215603649307275204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-its-been-over-month-since-i-last.html' title=''/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3874167973447012168</id><published>2008-11-25T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T06:00:01.056-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='germs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leg sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick at churck'/><title type='text'>Daily Madeline</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Daily Madeline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline woke up Sunday morning complaining that she was sick.  I was immediately suspicious since she has been having a hard time going to her class.  About 3 weeks ago she suddenly decided that she didn't want to go anymore and it has been a fight ever since then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her where she felt sick &lt;em&gt;(meaning stomache, head, etc.)&lt;/em&gt;.  She thought about it for a minute and then said &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I feel sick at church."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good chuckle at that and then said, "well if you are sick, some part of your body doesn't feel good - is there some part of your body that doesn't feel good?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again thinking for a minute she said &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"My leg is sick - it has germs in it." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark leaned over to me and said "Does the term 'A Run for your Money' mean anything to you?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3874167973447012168?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3874167973447012168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3874167973447012168' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3874167973447012168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3874167973447012168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/11/daily-madeline.html' title='Daily Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2104869749949924575</id><published>2008-11-23T14:31:00.011-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T15:53:07.249-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='violin'/><title type='text'>Oh No the Big 4 - 0 !!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was the big day - - I turned 40 and still lived to tell about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then &amp;amp; Now:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnMIB6c9YI/AAAAAAAAAhM/k648Zw4NTt4/s1600-h/jbh+baby+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271969277138498946" style="WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnMIB6c9YI/AAAAAAAAAhM/k648Zw4NTt4/s400/jbh+baby+pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnSCtQsc_I/AAAAAAAAAhU/b7auME3Q0hc/s1600-h/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271975782765065202" style="WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnSCtQsc_I/AAAAAAAAAhU/b7auME3Q0hc/s400/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of me 40 years ago - - haven't aged a bit have I?!?!? I actually tried to find a picture with both me and my parents in it. Since I am the oldest I figured that they would have TONS of pictures and they do have quite a few, but not so many with both of my parents in them. I guess Mom was always taking the pictures and Dad was the designated baby holder. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who read my previous post about my goals of "Four Before 40" (&lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/four-months-but-whos-counting.html"&gt;http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/four-months-but-whos-counting.html&lt;/a&gt;) Here is an update on just how I did on those goals: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Loose weight - 140 by 40.&lt;/strong&gt; Weelll, I didn't quite make this one &lt;em&gt;(shocker right?!?)&lt;/em&gt; I am 4 lbs. away &lt;em&gt;(what's 4 pounds among friends?).&lt;/em&gt; Anyway, I am not giving up on this goal. I don't know if I will ever weigh 140, but I would like to be more tone and loose the muffin top/bakery rolls that seem to have invaded my mid-section. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Do some cool physical feat.&lt;/strong&gt; I chose the 112 mile bike ride around Utah Lake. For full details on this adventure click here: &lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/08/check-this-one-off-list.html"&gt;http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/08/check-this-one-off-list.html&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Add some culture and learn a new skill.&lt;/strong&gt; I have been taking violin lessons since January of this year and will be playing the violin in church in December which is &lt;em&gt;(gulp)&lt;/em&gt; only a few weeks away. I have been practicing &lt;em&gt;The First Noel Pachelbel Canon&lt;/em&gt; like a crazy woman as I don't want to completely embarass myself and don't want the 12 year olds that I will be playing with to show me up. Stay tuned, I'm sure there will be an update. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Don't sweat the small stuff - learn to have fun with my kids.&lt;/strong&gt; I am doing better at this. I think this is an ongoing thing though. The other day we were out running errands and my kids have been begging to go to Carl's Jr. for lunch for-EVER. We passed it and they asked again and I thought "Why not? The laundry can wait." That was such a small thing and didn't really take that much time out of my day, but they loved it and talked about it for the rest of the week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say I had a really great birthday. Mark and I went to dinner on Friday night at one of my favorite restaurants - Cafe Trio - in SLC. Then he totally surprised me with a night at the Grand America Hotel downtown! We have a friend who helped get us a really good room rate &lt;em&gt;(Thanks Fred - you ROCK!!)&lt;/em&gt; and our room was amazing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some pics to show you just how much of a redneck I really am: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It had it's own sitting room. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaBwcXnLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/MK2Jkm5hNQA/s1600-h/Lounge+in+room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271984562532490418" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaBwcXnLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/MK2Jkm5hNQA/s400/Lounge+in+room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaBwcXnLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/MK2Jkm5hNQA/s1600-h/Lounge+in+room.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a plate of elegant goodies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaBYuyTDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/jqn59fhh70E/s1600-h/goodies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271984556167285810" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaBYuyTDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/jqn59fhh70E/s400/goodies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check this out - it's a piano made entirely out of chocolate with chocolates inside of it as well!! What more could a chocoholic want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnbL3lEv0I/AAAAAAAAAiE/bvvCDTHz_sQ/s1600-h/PICT0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271985835758370626" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnbL3lEv0I/AAAAAAAAAiE/bvvCDTHz_sQ/s400/PICT0002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then of course I had to try on the robe and slippers - soo nice! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaCdNONXI/AAAAAAAAAh0/lK0zHOmMiow/s1600-h/bathroobe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271984574548555122" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaCdNONXI/AAAAAAAAAh0/lK0zHOmMiow/s400/bathroobe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaBAm2zHI/AAAAAAAAAhc/oOpY4GdYQZg/s1600-h/Jana+Plate.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home the next morning my sisters had done some handiwork on my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaCviZ2_I/AAAAAAAAAh8/Ur8LLz9phuE/s1600-h/House+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271984579469237234" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnaCviZ2_I/AAAAAAAAAh8/Ur8LLz9phuE/s400/House+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And Jade added the finishing touch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnc5CVR4aI/AAAAAAAAAiM/U0cAxlOwwP0/s1600-h/big+40+sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271987711250653602" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnc5CVR4aI/AAAAAAAAAiM/U0cAxlOwwP0/s400/big+40+sign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2104869749949924575?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2104869749949924575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2104869749949924575' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2104869749949924575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2104869749949924575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no-big-4-0.html' title='Oh No the Big 4 - 0 !!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSnMIB6c9YI/AAAAAAAAAhM/k648Zw4NTt4/s72-c/jbh+baby+pic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7795403943417575232</id><published>2008-11-16T15:54:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T16:19:00.885-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trick-or-treat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pumpkins'/><title type='text'>Happy Halloween!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Here are some pics from our Halloween Festivities: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Carving Pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade &amp;amp; Willy working hard on cleaning theirs out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClyYPyBuI/AAAAAAAAAf8/jICx9XyTb04/s1600-h/IMG_9633.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269393848944166626" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClyYPyBuI/AAAAAAAAAf8/jICx9XyTb04/s400/IMG_9633.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark carving Madeline's crown &lt;em&gt;(was there any doubt as to what she would choose?!?)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCly_WBZ7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/BhIpBDQHA0g/s1600-h/IMG_9635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269393859439323058" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCly_WBZ7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/BhIpBDQHA0g/s400/IMG_9635.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack with his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IronMan&lt;/span&gt; Pumpkin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClx7NNPHI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Hbz8KUbIwX8/s1600-h/IMG_9631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269393841148738674" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClx7NNPHI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Hbz8KUbIwX8/s400/IMG_9631.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade &amp;amp; Willy's hard work paid off &lt;em&gt;(it's a witch)&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClzl_79DI/AAAAAAAAAgU/UwJxB7WRxK4/s1600-h/IMG_9639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269393869815673906" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClzl_79DI/AAAAAAAAAgU/UwJxB7WRxK4/s400/IMG_9639.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack &amp;amp; Madeline with her finished product.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClzYj3MkI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HgVzXiyiZ7s/s1600-h/IMG_9638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269393866208260674" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClzYj3MkI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HgVzXiyiZ7s/s400/IMG_9638.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ohh&lt;/span&gt; Scary!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt; Notice the "M" carved on top of the crown - yes her idea!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm03vgdKI/AAAAAAAAAgc/gkIbLAjxfrE/s1600-h/pumpkins+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269394991270098082" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm03vgdKI/AAAAAAAAAgc/gkIbLAjxfrE/s400/pumpkins+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew &lt;em&gt;(aka "The Prince)&lt;/em&gt; at our family party - pretty sure he won the Best Costume Award!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCly_WBZ7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/BhIpBDQHA0g/s1600-h/IMG_9635.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCk4x-5EqI/AAAAAAAAAfs/XLFQT2yigm8/s1600-h/Dracula.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269392859420234402" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCk4x-5EqI/AAAAAAAAAfs/XLFQT2yigm8/s400/Dracula.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ready to go Trick-or-Treating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm1lHKAgI/AAAAAAAAAg0/l9YOUSxGndA/s1600-h/PICT0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269395003448885762" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm1lHKAgI/AAAAAAAAAg0/l9YOUSxGndA/s400/PICT0004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm1H9nNFI/AAAAAAAAAgk/pOY9w9tXhCM/s1600-h/PICT0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline's favorite prize of the night - aren't they lovely? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm1atcJkI/AAAAAAAAAgs/GWybd0IZ42E/s1600-h/PICT0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269395000656668226" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCm1atcJkI/AAAAAAAAAgs/GWybd0IZ42E/s400/PICT0005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Best Halloween Quote:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the kids got home Jack started to eat some of his candy and Mark told him to wait until he could check it.  Jack's reply?  &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Why? So you can see if I got any good stuff?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7795403943417575232?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7795403943417575232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7795403943417575232' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7795403943417575232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7795403943417575232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSClyYPyBuI/AAAAAAAAAf8/jICx9XyTb04/s72-c/IMG_9633.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3134085910417327693</id><published>2008-11-16T15:45:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T15:53:49.948-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='witches night out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sisters'/><title type='text'>Witches Night Out</title><content type='html'>Each year I get together with my sisters, Mom and Aunt for Witches Night Out. This is where a bunch of otherwise grown-up, usually sane, women get together dressed as witches to eat, cackle, and shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is lots of fun and if you love people watching this is definitely the place to do it. There are scary witches, cute witches and more than a few trampy witches! I mean really ladies - - it IS about 40 degrees outside, cover that UP!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we decided to fore go some of the craziness and had dinner at my house before we went to the actual witches night festival. Here we are just before we hopped on our brooms. . . er. .  got in our cars and drove into the night. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269391884812577586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCkADSUazI/AAAAAAAAAfk/RoJggJEL9Mw/s400/witches+Night.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3134085910417327693?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3134085910417327693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3134085910417327693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3134085910417327693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3134085910417327693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/11/witches-night-out.html' title='Witches Night Out'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SSCkADSUazI/AAAAAAAAAfk/RoJggJEL9Mw/s72-c/witches+Night.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2037186753465069453</id><published>2008-10-24T07:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T07:00:00.666-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Man of the House'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>Daily Jack</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;Daily Jack&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark had to go out of town for a few days and told Jack that while he was gone he would be the Man of the House.  This meant no fighting with his sister &lt;em&gt;(riiigghhhttt)&lt;/em&gt; and that he needed to help his Mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day Jack said to me "Mom, why did Dad say I have to be the House of the Man?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2037186753465069453?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2037186753465069453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2037186753465069453' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2037186753465069453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2037186753465069453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/10/daily-jack.html' title='Daily Jack'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4837587246680602554</id><published>2008-10-23T12:28:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T12:41:41.970-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Madeline'/><title type='text'>Daily Madeline</title><content type='html'>My friend (who also has a Jack) does a post called the "Daily Jack" where she writes some of the funny things that her little boy says. I thought it was a cute idea and since imitation is the most sincere form of flattery . . . . here is the first ever post of the Daily Madeline. I'm sure there will be a Daily Jack soon to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;Daily Madeline &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Madeline thinks that she is a cat. When you ask her a question she will answer you in "cat".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Madeline what would you like for lunch?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline: "Meow, meow, meow, meow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Does that mean you want toast?" &lt;em&gt;(her word for a sandwich)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madeline: "Meow, meow, meow, meow." &lt;em&gt;(nodding her head vigorously)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday we were sitting in church, singing the opening hymn for Sacrament Meeting and instead of singing or humming, Madeline meowed it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SQDD3VdQv6I/AAAAAAAAAfc/1jySYaZlsLw/s1600-h/Kitty+Madeline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260419720188837794" style="WIDTH: 342px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SQDD3VdQv6I/AAAAAAAAAfc/1jySYaZlsLw/s400/Kitty+Madeline.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4837587246680602554?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4837587246680602554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4837587246680602554' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4837587246680602554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4837587246680602554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/10/daily-madeline.html' title='Daily Madeline'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SQDD3VdQv6I/AAAAAAAAAfc/1jySYaZlsLw/s72-c/Kitty+Madeline.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8849770362228953298</id><published>2008-10-21T08:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T08:00:00.905-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband'/><title type='text'>Husband Tag</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My sister Julie tagged me with this Husband Tag and since I don't want to face her wrath, here you go: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPwFei6sU_I/AAAAAAAAAfU/JB5oBhIZs1k/s1600-h/MRH+Head+shot+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259084487189091314" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPwFei6sU_I/AAAAAAAAAfU/JB5oBhIZs1k/s400/MRH+Head+shot+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.What's his name? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mark Harris&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.How long have you been married? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;16 years in November&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.How long did you date? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;5 months - married 6 weeks after he proposed!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.How old is he? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;45&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.Who eats more? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mark&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6.Who said "I love you" first? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He did.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.Who is taller? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He is.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8.Who sings better? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Definately Mark.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9.Who is smarter? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mark. He has a Masters Degree in Engineering, which I always throw in his face when he burns the microwave popcorn. ;-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10.Whose temper is worse? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Uh, probably mine, but neither of us really have a temper.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;11.Who does the laundry? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;12.Who does the dishes? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mostly me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;13.Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I do. It's closer to the door to get the kids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;14.Who pays the bills? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Who mows the lawn? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mark does. Sometimes I edge the yard cause I don't like the way he does it - but usually I'm too busy with other stuff to worry about it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;16.Who cooks dinner? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I do. When we both worked we would switch off - I would cook and he would do the dishes one night and then he would cook and I would do the dishes the next night. Sometimes I miss those days. &lt;em&gt;(sigh)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;17.Who drives when you are together? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He does&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;18.Who is more stubborn? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Uhhh that would be me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;19.Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Probably me, I’m usually wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. Whose parents do you see the most? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;21.Who proposed? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He did, on a carriage ride around Temple Square with a "Pre-nuptuial Agreement" where I agreed to limit my gross accumulation of shoes to no more than 50 pair at any given time. And he promised to love and care for me and the three amigos &lt;em&gt;(Jordan, Matt &amp;amp; Jade)&lt;/em&gt; for eternity. What a deal! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;22.Who has more friends? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Probably me - I'm more social and outgoing, or maybe just more loud?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;23.Who has more siblings? I do. &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;7 to 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;24.Who wears the pants in the family? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He wears the pants; I zip and button the pants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8849770362228953298?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8849770362228953298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8849770362228953298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8849770362228953298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8849770362228953298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/10/husband-tag.html' title='Husband Tag'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPwFei6sU_I/AAAAAAAAAfU/JB5oBhIZs1k/s72-c/MRH+Head+shot+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4687371622611912725</id><published>2008-10-19T17:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T17:40:55.861-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rico Suave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hawaii'/><title type='text'>Hawaii! (I'm a HUGE sLAcKeR!!!)</title><content type='html'>So, as you may have noticed, I've been AWOL from my Blog for about a month now. Part of it is due to the fact that my computer crashed and I didn't get it back until right before we left for Hawaii. Literally the night before. But then I had to reload all the "stuff" that was once on it to make it work for me once we got home. As I mentioned in my previous post - I'm not the most technical of gals. Then, life just seemed to catch me and my blog seemed to get pushed further and further down on the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway. I'm BAAACK!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here is the rundown of our trip to Hawaii. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The purpose of the trip was for Mark to attend a conference for SEOC &lt;em&gt;(Structural Engineers of California).&lt;/em&gt; Yeah, I know we live in Utah, but they usually have a really good conference with good technical sessions and Reaveley Engineers has done some work with several firms in California. Blah, Blah, Blah. . . . . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to the Big Island of Hawaii. Everything there is different from what I expected it to be. The airport is very small - you have to walk down the steps of the airplane when you land. Usually not a big deal, except that I had totally crammed my carry on and my "personal item" &lt;em&gt;(backpack)&lt;/em&gt; full so that I would only have to check one bag. This proved to be tricky - navigating the stairs carrying both of those. &lt;em&gt;(Yeah, Jade got her grace from me).&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we landed I was pretty sure we landed in purgatory and NOT paradise. This is what I saw: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLe8WW2CI/AAAAAAAAAcw/UW9xRVEwxVE/s1600-h/Hawaii+terrain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254235647737518114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLe8WW2CI/AAAAAAAAAcw/UW9xRVEwxVE/s400/Hawaii+terrain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait, um - THIS is Hawaii? What about green palm trees or ANY trees and WHERE'S THE BEACH? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMrlDHLfI/AAAAAAAAAc4/RwEqLK8jKTs/s1600-h/Hawaii+terrain+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254236964332711410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMrlDHLfI/AAAAAAAAAc4/RwEqLK8jKTs/s400/Hawaii+terrain+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMrlDHLfI/AAAAAAAAAc4/RwEqLK8jKTs/s1600-h/Hawaii+terrain+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got to our hotel it was absolutely gorgeous and had a beautiful beach. While Mark went to his conference every day from 9:00 am - 1:00 pm I laid around the pool and read my book. This was my view at the pool: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLdiXsNUI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/T560POOqYYw/s1600-h/IMG_9519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254235623583921474" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLdiXsNUI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/T560POOqYYw/s400/IMG_9519.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLdiXsNUI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/T560POOqYYw/s1600-h/IMG_9519.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The resort was super nice - they had these great lounge chairs with towel things on them that wouldn't slip down when you moved around. You could put it on yourself, or you could have a pool boy do it for you. Check it out: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLeCEQLkI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Vzs85IJwxbg/s1600-h/IMG_9521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254235632092327490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLeCEQLkI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Vzs85IJwxbg/s400/IMG_9521.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLeCEQLkI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Vzs85IJwxbg/s1600-h/IMG_9521.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was also some great people watching / entertainment to be had at the pool as well. Each morning this guy and his wife would come to the pool. Both about mid fifties and already super tan. She had really blond hair - let's just say it was not a color of nature, and wore this garish pink lipstick &lt;em&gt;(yes while at the pool).&lt;/em&gt; He was quite the snappy dresser - but more on that later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They would always pick lounge chairs near me and seemed pretty nice. On about the second day I overheard him talking on his phone to someone telling them that he was at the SEOC convention and how it was going great, he's working hard, blahbaty, blah, blah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking to myself "Dude, you are at the pool with BARBIE - you are most definitely NOT at the convention!". From then on I dubbed them Rico Suave and Barbie and it seemed that I saw them EVERYWHERE!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is Rico and Barbie waiting for the pool attendant to fix their lounge chairs: &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLeQ7k9nI/AAAAAAAAAcg/kI76yCq6jf0/s1600-h/Rico+Suave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254235636082472562" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLeQ7k9nI/AAAAAAAAAcg/kI76yCq6jf0/s400/Rico+Suave.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason I started calling him Rico Suave is that every time they came to the pool he would wear these snappy loafers with his swim suit. It's not like they are nice loafers - they are some plastic looking things. This picture is pretty tame in comparison to some of the other looks he wore, but you get the idea: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLevJm8rI/AAAAAAAAAco/PB5m5q7WZUk/s1600-h/Rico+Suave+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254235644194386610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLevJm8rI/AAAAAAAAAco/PB5m5q7WZUk/s400/Rico+Suave+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLevJm8rI/AAAAAAAAAco/PB5m5q7WZUk/s1600-h/Rico+Suave+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So of course I tell Mark about it and point them out to him when we see them at lunch later that week. We have a good laugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the story doesn't end there. Later, on Friday, we are having breakfast with one of Mark's friends / business acquaintances from California and are talking about some of the people who come to the conference for basically a vacation and not to really attend the conference. So I pipe up and start telling him about Rico Suave and Barbie. He seems pretty interested and so I start to describe him - short, mid 50's, blondish grey hair, wife looks like Barbie baked in the sun. He starts laughing hysterically - turns out this guy is one of his biggest competitors! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh man that size 8 flip flop I had for breakfast was &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TASTY&lt;/span&gt;!!! AGGHH!! Actually, it wasn't as bad as I had feared, he saw Mark later in the day and told him how funny he thought his wife was &lt;em&gt;(I'm &lt;strong&gt;sure&lt;/strong&gt; Mark was thinking just that same thought)&lt;/em&gt; and that he would forever think of him as Rico Suave. Well, glad I could brighten someones day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After Mark's conference was done each day we did some sight seeing. We went to Kona - which is where they hold the Ironman Triathlon each year. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrN_z_5DzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/1CmKgW3Xbvs/s1600-h/IMG_9534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254238411454746418" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrN_z_5DzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/1CmKgW3Xbvs/s400/IMG_9534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did a little shopping. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkrTWVuI/AAAAAAAAAeo/-usv7UYpeKw/s1600-h/IMG_9535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254240144287225570" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkrTWVuI/AAAAAAAAAeo/-usv7UYpeKw/s400/IMG_9535.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkrTWVuI/AAAAAAAAAeo/-usv7UYpeKw/s1600-h/IMG_9535.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we rented some bikes and rode on the Ironman trail. We did NOT do the entire 112 mile ride - we're on vacation you know. We just did a 40 mile ride to Hawi town and back. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOAAWujkI/AAAAAAAAAdw/kRewAtAekCw/s1600-h/IMG_9536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254238414771752514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOAAWujkI/AAAAAAAAAdw/kRewAtAekCw/s400/IMG_9536.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me tell you about the ride into Hawi town. First of all, we drove it to kind of see what it would be like. I pointed out to Mark that it looked like it was mostly uphill going in. It is actually "big roller" hills. When we were talking to the guys at the bike shop they said "Oh, don't worry you only gain about 500 feet elevation total - it won't be too bad." What they failed to mention is that you climb those 500 feet about 30 times during your 40 mile ride. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we are close to Hawi I see a sign that says "Hawi 7 miles". I think "Oh yeah, 7 miles, I can do 7 miles easy." I turn the bend in the road and am hit with a major headwind and the road starts to go uphill. I look to my left and this is what I see: &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrN_5jBdbI/AAAAAAAAAdg/B2RnuS9q4YQ/s1600-h/IMG_9529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254238412944274866" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrN_5jBdbI/AAAAAAAAAdg/B2RnuS9q4YQ/s400/IMG_9529.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep folks those are windmills, as in a WIND FARM!! They don't put those there because the wind just blows a little or once in a while. Pretty when you are driving - - NOT something you want to see when you are on your bike heading uphill into a headwind! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pretty much I just had to gut it out and do it. I'm sure I was probably going about 6 mph &lt;em&gt;(my rental bike didn't have a computer, so I have no clue how fast I was going).&lt;/em&gt; But I did make it to Hawi. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way back Mark decided to take some action shots of me while he was riding. This is very impressive to me as I can barely drink and ride and have just barely managed to master taking off my arm warmers and stuffing them in my back pocket while riding. &lt;em&gt;(Yea, I have MAD skilzz)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOASTvhuI/AAAAAAAAAd4/lcd2nvzawHU/s1600-h/IMG_9542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254238419591071458" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOASTvhuI/AAAAAAAAAd4/lcd2nvzawHU/s400/IMG_9542.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He kept saying "Hey look over here at me" I told him - "If I look at you I will probably crash and this bike costs more than my car!" So you get this goofy picture of me - looking but not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOAjVY4xI/AAAAAAAAAeA/OPDRvQ4EWVE/s1600-h/IMG_9543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254238424161379090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOAjVY4xI/AAAAAAAAAeA/OPDRvQ4EWVE/s400/IMG_9543.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrOAjVY4xI/AAAAAAAAAeA/OPDRvQ4EWVE/s1600-h/IMG_9543.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day we drove to Hawi with the bikes and then rode up this canyon to this scenic overlook. It was really pretty and looked like what I think Hawaii should look like. &lt;em&gt;(Having only been to Maui before - this is how I judge all Hawaii). &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMsL8g5-I/AAAAAAAAAdI/ZpF_RxPcV3c/s1600-h/IMG_9522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254236974774020066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMsL8g5-I/AAAAAAAAAdI/ZpF_RxPcV3c/s400/IMG_9522.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All along the road they have these signs that show various points of interest - or important things and they all have King Kamehameha on them. As we were biking we came upon this one and I just couldn't resist: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkbzZqUI/AAAAAAAAAeY/SVeyh360uCw/s1600-h/IMG_9546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254240140126693698" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkbzZqUI/AAAAAAAAAeY/SVeyh360uCw/s400/IMG_9546.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkbzZqUI/AAAAAAAAAeY/SVeyh360uCw/s1600-h/IMG_9546.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, say what?!? What makes this rock so important? It is by the side of the road and if you are not looking you will totally miss the sign. Shall we see this beloved rock? &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPj7KJwHI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/6h9gQwGtc00/s1600-h/IMG_9547.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254240131363750002" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPj7KJwHI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/6h9gQwGtc00/s400/IMG_9547.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured that if it was so important one of us should have our picture taken with it - who knows maybe it brings good luck - kind of like that Brady Bunch thing?&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkc4bBAI/AAAAAAAAAeg/4MRN5K_-G-4/s1600-h/IMG_9545.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254240140416189442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPkc4bBAI/AAAAAAAAAeg/4MRN5K_-G-4/s400/IMG_9545.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way back into town we found this GREAT shave ice place - I mean it was the BEST!&lt;em&gt;(sorry Doreen)&lt;/em&gt; I'm not really a shaved ice fan, but this was excellent! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMsX4_DJI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/0Ion-4gGl2E/s1600-h/IMG_9525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254236977980443794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMsX4_DJI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/0Ion-4gGl2E/s400/IMG_9525.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was so hot and HuMiD I needed something to cool me off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMshV99fI/AAAAAAAAAdY/Rm-8NiINXQA/s1600-h/IMG_9524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254236980517926386" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMshV99fI/AAAAAAAAAdY/Rm-8NiINXQA/s400/IMG_9524.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMshV99fI/AAAAAAAAAdY/Rm-8NiINXQA/s1600-h/IMG_9524.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got back into town there was a statue of King Kamehameha. I told Mark to take my picture with him. Then I got to wondering. . . .just what was he wearing under that little skirt thing he was wearing? Maybe it was the heat that made me do it, maybe it was the sugar from the shave ice. Anyway, I LOOKED - - Ladies, you are not missing anything. He was wearing yellow underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPjham0qI/AAAAAAAAAeI/ACEHZ30C5_Q/s1600-h/IMG_9544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254240124453442210" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrPjham0qI/AAAAAAAAAeI/ACEHZ30C5_Q/s400/IMG_9544.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the highway between our hotel and Kona we saw this sign: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMrysMzBI/AAAAAAAAAdA/dKxOzFCM2uQ/s1600-h/Donkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254236967994706962" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrMrysMzBI/AAAAAAAAAdA/dKxOzFCM2uQ/s400/Donkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who knew?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One last question - What is the Hawaiians fascination with SPAM?!? You can get Spam and Eggs at McDonalds. Burger King has a Spam breakfast sandwich, &lt;em&gt;(so does McDonalds).&lt;/em&gt; They actually advertise this and brag that you can't get this on the mainland. Like it would SELL on the mainland! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPu88YaaVkI/AAAAAAAAAew/tyCJ-iNFr-M/s1600-h/spam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259004735416587842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPu88YaaVkI/AAAAAAAAAew/tyCJ-iNFr-M/s400/spam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you go to Walmart or any other grocery store they have a huge section dedicated just to SPAM. I don't get it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all we had a great time, but I really missed my kids &lt;em&gt;(yea, you too Jade!).&lt;/em&gt; So it is always nice to come back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4687371622611912725?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4687371622611912725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4687371622611912725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4687371622611912725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4687371622611912725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/10/hawaii-im-huge-slacker.html' title='Hawaii! (I&apos;m a HUGE sLAcKeR!!!)'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SOrLe8WW2CI/AAAAAAAAAcw/UW9xRVEwxVE/s72-c/Hawaii+terrain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6054169589593707315</id><published>2008-09-20T19:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T19:55:26.405-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hawaii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='computer crash'/><title type='text'>CRaSH!</title><content type='html'>Well, I guess it was bound to happen - but yesterday the other shoe finally dropped and my computer crashed.  Apparently with my teenagers using it and my own online use we were infected with a nasty virus which then corrupted all my files.  YIKES! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248282567758301906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SNWlMFQbytI/AAAAAAAAAbI/KOtsJd7FMZ4/s400/computer+crash.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Now, just so you know, I am not the MOST technical kind of gal.  You see, when I worked at Novell and other high tech companies, I always worked for one of the "top dogs".  This meant that when I called Tech Support, they were always "johnny on the spot" to come and fix it because of who my boss was.  This also meant that I really never had to figure anything out for myself.  Back then I thought it was nifty.  Now - - not so nifty!  Jade has been kind enough to loan me her laptop so that I can do a few things.  Bless her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to have the computer back by tonight, however we have not heard a peep from the guy who is working on it.  This does not bode well. Either it is REALLY, REALLY bad, or he is just taking his time.  I am hoping for the latter option. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any event you will probably not be hearing from me for a while -- not only because of the computer issue, but because I am lucky enough to be going to Hawaii for a few days with Mark!!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248282567346228514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SNWlMDuMDSI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/-zi0Z6_9buk/s400/hawaii.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Truth be told, I feel kind of greedy since this is the 3rd time in two years that we have gone &lt;em&gt;(all work related)&lt;/em&gt;.  This time we are going to the big island of Hawaii, so that will be fun since the last two times we went to Maui.    I plan on finding myself a comfy beach chair and reading uninterrupted for the entire time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are going to visit Grandma and Grandpa Harris in Reno along with their cousins who live down there and I am sure they will have a fabulous time as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So check back in a while and I will share my vacay pics with you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6054169589593707315?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6054169589593707315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6054169589593707315' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6054169589593707315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6054169589593707315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/crash.html' title='CRaSH!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SNWlMFQbytI/AAAAAAAAAbI/KOtsJd7FMZ4/s72-c/computer+crash.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8636988102401846637</id><published>2008-09-18T13:46:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T14:54:37.573-06:00</updated><title type='text'>TaGGeD!</title><content type='html'>My 18 year old daughter &lt;a href="http://storyofalady.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jade&lt;/a&gt; just started blogging and on only her 3rd post has already TaGGed me! Agghhh!! I am usually horrible at things like this, but for you, Jade, here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;10 Years Ago I was:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Working full time with "only" 4 kids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Living in a different town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Had a "lunch hour" every day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Ran 4 miles every day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Dreaming of what it would be like to have my "dream job" of being a full time mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;5 Things on my To Do List Today:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Go visiting teaching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Laundry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Make dinner for family &amp;amp; parents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Pick green beans from garden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. More Laundry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;5 Snacks I Enjoy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Popcorn w/ M&amp;amp;Ms in it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Junior Mints&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Fresh Pineapple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Chips &amp;amp; Salsa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Red Licorice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;5 Things I Would do if I were a Millionaire: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pay off my house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Take my family on a fun vacation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Take all my sisters &amp;amp; Mom on a cool trip to New York to see some plays, eat some good food and just have lots of fun together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Go to Paris France and shop, shop, shop (shoes, shoes &amp;amp; more shoes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Invest so we have enough to live comfortably&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;5 Places I have Lived:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pleasant Grove, UT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. American Fork, UT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Phoenix, AZ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Lehi, UT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Saratoga Springs, UT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5 Jobs I Have Had:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Snack Stand Worker @ the Baseball Park&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Lifeguard @ water park&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Paralegal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Executive Assistant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Dream Job - Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I Tag:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy, Doreen, Kristin, Sherri &amp;amp; Karalee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8636988102401846637?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8636988102401846637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8636988102401846637' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8636988102401846637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8636988102401846637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/tagd.html' title='TaGGeD!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5175887200106175259</id><published>2008-09-12T08:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T15:02:23.661-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potting bench'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old bike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash to treasure'/><title type='text'>(More) Trash to Treasure</title><content type='html'>For those of you who have read my previous post about the &lt;a href="http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/05/potting-bench.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;potting bench&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;, you know that I have a thing for turning junk into something cute. I am always looking at things and thinking to myself "how else can that be used" or "what else could I do with that besides what it was intended for?" Kind of a sickness I have, if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom and my sister both have these cool old bikes parked by their front porches. I absolutely love them. They decorate them for each season and they always look soo cute. I have been secretly &lt;em&gt;(or not so secretly)&lt;/em&gt; coveting them for sometime now. I know, I know it says in the Bible "Thou Shalt Not Covet". But, does that really apply to old bikes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been "on the hunt" for one of these bikes, looking on KSL.com, eyeballing every yard sale we pass on a Saturday, telling all my friends, and asking my husband if we can go to the dump to look for one. This last request he adamantly refuses to entertain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see my sister, Julie was taking some things to the dump when lo and behold there was a man unloading a jewel of a bike from his truck. She asked if she could have it and he was only too happy to give it to her. He thought she was crazy, but he gave it to her. Her husband was not so pleased. His response? "Honey, you are supposed to LEAVE things at the dump, not BRING things HOME!" But, since he is such a great guy he let her keep it anyway. &lt;em&gt;(I think he didn't want to take the chance of making another dump run - - who knows what she would have brought home the next time?!?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to the point of this post. The other day I stopped in at a bike store in town because they had a spinning bike outside and I have been looking for one to keep me in shape over the winter. I chatted with the guy about it while trying to contain my two supervisors who were trying to ride every bike in the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I asked him if he ever got any old bikes just dropped off at his store. He gave me a weird look and then said "well yeah, I have some out back, you can look at them if you'd like to." After digging through a pile &lt;em&gt;(literally a pile)&lt;/em&gt; of bikes he came to a really cool one. I asked how much he wanted for it and he said $20. Personally, I think he was anxious to get rid of me and the supervisors, but whatever I'll take it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then looked at my car &lt;em&gt;(Honda Accord)&lt;/em&gt; and said "did you want to come back later and pick it up with a truck?" I laughed and said no, "We're just going to put it in the trunk of my car." He gave me the &lt;em&gt;"you're wacky on the junk"&lt;/em&gt; look and wheeled it over to the car. I giggled and thought to myself - - dude, if you only knew the crazy things I have had in the back of this Honda, you would be AMAZED at what will fit back there. But that's a post for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited I had to call Mark and tell him. This is how our conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Hey honey, guess what?! I FOUND AN OLD BIKE AND IT ONLY COST $20!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving Husband:&lt;/strong&gt; WHAT? You paid $20 for an old beater bike?! What in the world are you going to do with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Decorate it cute and put it on our porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving Husband:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh, no. That thing is NOT going in our yard. It will just junk it up. It will totally look like junk. No way! That is not going in our yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Giggling uncontrollably)&lt;/em&gt; Honey, remember on Christmas Vacation when Clark Griswold is in the forest getting the Christmas tree and Russ says to him &lt;em&gt;"I don't think that thing will fit in our yard Dad."&lt;/em&gt; and Clark says "&lt;em&gt;It's not going in our yard Russ, it's going in our Living Room!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving Husband:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, so, what about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Well, it's not going in our yard, it's going on our porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving Husband:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh yeah, you are one funny girl. We'll see about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Just hold your judgement until I get done with it OK? Remember the potting bench?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving Husband:&lt;/strong&gt; Grudgingly agrees - mumbles something incoherent and changes the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I rest my case.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMbb4niKGhI/AAAAAAAAAbA/eIJhwtUJREk/s1600-h/Porch+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244120581850929682" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMbb4niKGhI/AAAAAAAAAbA/eIJhwtUJREk/s400/Porch+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a close up of the bike. I really didn't do much to it. I bought a basket at a craft store, painted it black &lt;em&gt;(is there any other color?)&lt;/em&gt;, put it on with some zip-ties &lt;em&gt;(greatest invention ever!)&lt;/em&gt; and put some flowers in it. I still need to fix the tires - I just love the white-walls! And I think the fenders are cool too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMbb4fLuD1I/AAAAAAAAAa4/nL40wv6neKs/s1600-h/Bike+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244120579609333586" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMbb4fLuD1I/AAAAAAAAAa4/nL40wv6neKs/s400/Bike+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked the guy how told he thought it was, he said about 40 years old. My teenagers thought that should qualify it as an antique. I then pointed out to them that that was as old as I was. My next sentence was "you better run, and run fast NOW!" Oh yeah, everyone's a comedian at my house!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5175887200106175259?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5175887200106175259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5175887200106175259' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5175887200106175259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5175887200106175259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/more-trash-to-treasure.html' title='(More) Trash to Treasure'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMbb4niKGhI/AAAAAAAAAbA/eIJhwtUJREk/s72-c/Porch+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2942614331948884103</id><published>2008-09-10T05:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T05:59:00.596-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Preschool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Day of School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>First Day of School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR297cakoI/AAAAAAAAAao/vDwy78xfx4k/s1600-h/school+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243446672467071618" style="WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" height="136" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR297cakoI/AAAAAAAAAao/vDwy78xfx4k/s400/school+house.jpg" width="187" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week was the start of the school year at our house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade started college at Utah Valley University.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR29p05sUI/AAAAAAAAAag/rD8ynGK7RTg/s1600-h/UVU+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243446667737936194" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR29p05sUI/AAAAAAAAAag/rD8ynGK7RTg/s400/UVU+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack started his second year of pre-school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since Jade and I are "sharing" a car - &lt;em&gt;this means that I usually have the car and drive her around&lt;/em&gt; - which, secretly, I love. I picked her up from her job at Costco and took her to school. Her BF Willy has a car and they have almost all the same classes so he can give her a ride home and pick her up from work on most days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On this particular day she asked me to drop her off at Willy's car so she could meet him. Since it was her first day of school and she claimed she was in too much of a hurry to take a picture while we were at home, I brought out the camera and took one while she was waiting for Willy. She was &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HORRIFIED!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I know she looks happy enough in this picture, but let me tell you she was not a happy camper. As she later told me I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; embarassed her. First, it is bad enough that your &lt;strong&gt;MOM&lt;/strong&gt; has to take you to school, but then she is taking pictures of you on top of it?!?! OHHH the Indignity of it all!!! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRry_smoyI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/E6mdxOdP6PI/s1600-h/Jade+School.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243434390002246434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRry_smoyI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/E6mdxOdP6PI/s400/Jade+School.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So here you go Jade - I love you and I'm just proud that you are going to college!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR4GztdNBI/AAAAAAAAAaw/FVPAmrOOBNU/s1600-h/preschool+boy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243447924521514002" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR4GztdNBI/AAAAAAAAAaw/FVPAmrOOBNU/s400/preschool+boy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few days later Jack started Pre-School at Miss Hollie's Happy Hive Preschool. He goes 3 days a week and LOVES it so far. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the morning that he was to start school he woke up and wanted to wear some of his new school clothes. I explained that his school clothes would be a little hot for that day, but he insisted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As he was getting dressed Madeline came in and demanded to know where HER school clothes were. I had a feeling that this would happen since she has been talking non-stop about when SHE is going to go to school with Jack and when SHE starts school, etc. So I had bought her a new little outfit as a little bit of "screaming, meltdown, fit insurance". We got everyone dressed and avoided any major mishaps that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack was only too happy to have his picture taken and didn't even seem to mind that Madeline insisted on being in every single picture since she thought that she would be going to school too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRrzMn8cAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/_vaGDvf7x64/s1600-h/Jack+preschool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243434393472364546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRrzMn8cAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/_vaGDvf7x64/s400/Jack+preschool.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we pulled up to let Jack out, Madeline started saying "let me out, I'm going to school too!" "Unbuckle me!" She was very angry that I would not let her go with Jack. She thinks that she is his equal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Jack got out of the car I asked him if he wanted me to walk him up to the door and he said "Nah, I can do it." He then started to run across the lawn and then it was like he suddenly remembered that he needed to be cool and started to walk again. It was cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that morning as we were running errands she kept saying "let's go find Jack". She really missed him, only if it was for 2 1/2 hours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then it hit me that before I know it, I will be sending Jack off to college. Who knows, maybe I'll drive him to school on HIS first day of college and take his picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2942614331948884103?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2942614331948884103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2942614331948884103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2942614331948884103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2942614331948884103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/first-day-of-school.html' title='First Day of School'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMR297cakoI/AAAAAAAAAao/vDwy78xfx4k/s72-c/school+house.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-188661658461226473</id><published>2008-09-08T15:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T15:08:00.895-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving Point'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dinosaur Museum'/><title type='text'>Dino Museum</title><content type='html'>Jack LOVES Dinosaurs and is always asking to go to the Dinosaur Museum at Thanksgiving Point.  Usually this request comes as we are passing it on the freeway on our way to or from somewhere else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Thanksgiving Point had a promotion for $2 Tuesdays in August, I decided this was my chance to FINALLY visit the "Dino Museum" as he calls it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We asked my sister Hollie and her two boys who are almost exactly the same ages as Jack and Madeline to come along with us - figuring that they would have more fun with some cousins along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the museum about 20 minutes before it opened.  As it turns out we weren't the only ones with the idea.  I thought that since school had started there would not be as many people  - - WRONG~!!When we got there the line snaked around the building almost to the end! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we inched forward Jack and Madeline found a comfy rock to sit on and rest.  I'm not sure what Madeline is doing in this picture - - is she giving the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hail&lt;/span&gt; Hitler" sign?  Did I catch her mid-wave?  And what about Jack?  I'm pretty sure he is trying to reel me in with his "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Spidey&lt;/span&gt; Web". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREcEkv-mI/AAAAAAAAAY4/14St8IEHdm4/s1600-h/dino+museum+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243391115221006946" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREcEkv-mI/AAAAAAAAAY4/14St8IEHdm4/s400/dino+museum+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really windy that day and not very warm - I couldn't resist including this one of Jack trying to keep Madeline warm.  Check out his hair!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREcbLxfeI/AAAAAAAAAZA/gQGfZwc9bPo/s1600-h/dino+museum+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243391121290264034" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREcbLxfeI/AAAAAAAAAZA/gQGfZwc9bPo/s400/dino+museum+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we FINALLY got in and there were lots of cool things to see and do.  Madeline and I saw some big lizards - she wasn't a fan!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREctJMiBI/AAAAAAAAAZI/prw8jspFfLo/s1600-h/dino+museum+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243391126111291410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREctJMiBI/AAAAAAAAAZI/prw8jspFfLo/s400/dino+museum+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a small &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dino&lt;/span&gt; that you could sit on and have your picture taken - we all took turns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFhwIcw-I/AAAAAAAAAZg/DbLPbkKczpw/s1600-h/Riding+Dino+JRH+MEH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243392312324441058" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFhwIcw-I/AAAAAAAAAZg/DbLPbkKczpw/s400/Riding+Dino+JRH+MEH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Hans was a little taken aback at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;brazenness&lt;/span&gt; of my daughter just hopping on when it was so clearly HIS TURN!  But look at that face, how could you resist?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFicJ-kMI/AAAAAAAAAZo/EMGF_Z_SWZU/s1600-h/Riding+Dino+MEH+Hans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243392324142010562" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFicJ-kMI/AAAAAAAAAZo/EMGF_Z_SWZU/s400/Riding+Dino+MEH+Hans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we saw some more exhibits.  Hollie somehow managed to get all the kids to sit by her long enough for me to take a picture - something that I couldn't even do with my 2 children! Although, Dane does look a little put out about the whole thing! &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREc9plbTI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/Tlgx0Qo4PNk/s1600-h/Dino+museum+Hollie+all+kids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243391130542107954" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREc9plbTI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/Tlgx0Qo4PNk/s400/Dino+museum+Hollie+all+kids.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we went into a big room with sand and water where the kids could get down and dirty with little plastic trees, dinosaurs, etc. and build their own little land.  There were so many kids that it was hard to get a good space or enough trees and animals, but they had fun just the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFivr73ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/rLes7XMn6lo/s1600-h/Sand+Table.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243392329384713618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFivr73ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/rLes7XMn6lo/s400/Sand+Table.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFjCoYIkI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/A-GXHOz6XvU/s1600-h/Sand+Table+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243392334470062658" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFjCoYIkI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/A-GXHOz6XvU/s400/Sand+Table+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we went to another hands on room where the kids could pretend like they were finding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dinosaur&lt;/span&gt; bones in the sand.  Everyone got a small paint brush and could dig around and find parts of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dino&lt;/span&gt; that was buried in the large sand box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFjG5AILI/AAAAAAAAAaA/ldxwy63hYAE/s1600-h/Sand+box.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243392335613534386" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRFjG5AILI/AAAAAAAAAaA/ldxwy63hYAE/s400/Sand+box.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end everyone got a "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;dino&lt;/span&gt; chomper" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;souvenir&lt;/span&gt; to take home.  They all really loved it and now Jack is asking even more to go back!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRGyn3eUtI/AAAAAAAAAaI/-XXm3NahfRI/s1600-h/Dino+Chompers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243393701675160274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMRGyn3eUtI/AAAAAAAAAaI/-XXm3NahfRI/s400/Dino+Chompers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREdAYASrI/AAAAAAAAAZY/yCXh2a3Hpzw/s1600-h/Ridin+Dino+MEH.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-188661658461226473?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/188661658461226473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=188661658461226473' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/188661658461226473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/188661658461226473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/dino-museum.html' title='Dino Museum'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMREcEkv-mI/AAAAAAAAAY4/14St8IEHdm4/s72-c/dino+museum+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4655523632945528829</id><published>2008-09-07T14:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:49:00.119-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yard of the month'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Garden'/><title type='text'>Yard of the Month</title><content type='html'>I know that it has been FOREVER since I have posted, but things have been crazy busy around here! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been working in our yard and garden and lo and behold our efforts were rewarded!!  Our neighborhood homeowners association has a yard of the month program where they pick three yards each month to spotlight.  I am not sure if this is to encourage others to do better or just foster competition among the neighbors!  This month we were chosen along with our next door neighbor, so hopefully that will take the competition part out! &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7WTLvzbI/AAAAAAAAAYY/9abCHuUaaZk/s1600-h/Yard+Sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243381120458804658" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7WTLvzbI/AAAAAAAAAYY/9abCHuUaaZk/s400/Yard+Sign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the shot of our front yard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7WiMDWfI/AAAAAAAAAYg/7F7f9rx7Gis/s1600-h/House+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243381124486617586" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7WiMDWfI/AAAAAAAAAYg/7F7f9rx7Gis/s400/House+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then since you can see my garden from the side of my house I thought I would include it as well.  I &lt;strong&gt;love&lt;/strong&gt; the arbor as it was a Mother's Day gift from Mark one year.  Him being the Structural Engineer, he poured footings for it and anchored it into the ground - I'm telling you that thing is STURDY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7W2g2swI/AAAAAAAAAYo/RQiWzZpV7FI/s1600-h/garden+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243381129942577922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7W2g2swI/AAAAAAAAAYo/RQiWzZpV7FI/s400/garden+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a close-up of my garden.  After I planted my pumpkins &lt;em&gt;(far left) &lt;/em&gt;Madeline came along behind me the next day and dug up most of the seeds.  She was helping! So now I only have about 2 pumpkin plants, but I am sure we will get plenty of pumpkins from that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7XX7A46I/AAAAAAAAAYw/dx-LQKtBS9U/s1600-h/Garden+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243381138910667682" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7XX7A46I/AAAAAAAAAYw/dx-LQKtBS9U/s400/Garden+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4655523632945528829?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4655523632945528829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4655523632945528829' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4655523632945528829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4655523632945528829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/09/yard-of-month.html' title='Yard of the Month'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SMQ7WTLvzbI/AAAAAAAAAYY/9abCHuUaaZk/s72-c/Yard+Sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4939434060391644282</id><published>2008-08-20T20:45:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T08:59:26.208-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bike ride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McKenna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ULCER'/><title type='text'>Check This One Off the List!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Well I did it! I rode the ULCER!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzZVu__LsI/AAAAAAAAAYE/x_bClMjxd_g/s1600-h/ulcer_logowithflames.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236799434141937346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzZVu__LsI/AAAAAAAAAYE/x_bClMjxd_g/s400/ulcer_logowithflames.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you read my previous post about turning the BIG 4-0 and how I had four things that I wanted to do before I turned Forty in four months, one of those was "do a cool physical feat - like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;triathalon&lt;/span&gt;, or run a marathon or ride a century bike ride". I chose the century ride, and what a ride it was! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started at 7:30 am from Thanksgiving Point in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lehi&lt;/span&gt; and headed south to travel around the lake in a clockwise direction. When we started out Mark kept trying to get in with some faster groups so that it would be easier for us, but they were too fast for me and I knew I couldn't keep the pace if I was going to last for 111 miles. I think Mark was getting a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;frustrated&lt;/span&gt; and I don't blame him. He is a much better rider than me &lt;em&gt;(faster)&lt;/em&gt; and it is hard to always hang back for the slow chubby girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got into a pretty good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;rhythm&lt;/span&gt; and at around mile 20 or so this guy comes up beside Mark and says "Hey, I've been drafting off of you guys for a while, how about I take a pull?" So of course we let him! After that he pretty much stuck with us for the entire ride. He didn't talk much. He was about 50 or so, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hispanic,&lt;/span&gt; and said his name was Julio. We joked that he had adopted us for the ride and how lucky we were and he just smiled. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He did tell us that last summer he did 12 century rides, &lt;em&gt;(that's one a week people!)&lt;/em&gt; but that this year he had only done about 4. He was an excellent rider and he and Mark took turns at the front with me in the back or middle doing my best not to get left in the dust. Actually, they were both really good to slow the pace when they could see that I was struggling and Julio would hang back and ride beside me and say "Hey how you doing girlie? Those legs going to make it the full 100 miles today?" &lt;em&gt;(this spoken with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hispanic&lt;/span&gt; accent)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After lunch I really started to struggle - it was hot, I can't really eat when I work out &lt;em&gt;(even though I know my body needs the fuel),&lt;/em&gt; it was hot&lt;em&gt;,&lt;/em&gt; and my breathing was getting a little crazy. (Did I mention it was HOT?!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We stopped at a rest stop so I could get some more water and take a hit on my asthma inhaler &lt;em&gt;(it tastes like chemo and I hate to use it).&lt;/em&gt; Mark went over to Julio and said "Hey Jana is really having a hard time and we are probably going to have to slow down here so you might want to go ahead of us." and Julio said "No, no, you see I am doing and experiment today." I piped in "What, how S L O W you can do a century?!" and he said "No, usually I always ride by myself . I never draft on anyone and I never like anyone to draft on me - never as part of a team. Today I decided that I would ride as part of a team, so I picked you guys." He then said "There is no Yellow Jersey today, no Polka Dot Jersey to be won today. Let's just finish the ride". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This whole time I am thinking - oh man did you pick the Wrong Team!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we start going again and are now on the west side of Utah Lake. The terrain is rolling hills and my speed just starts getting more and more crappy. Good on the down hills - crappy on the up hill. We hit another rest stop and keep on going. I am forcing Gatorade down because I know that I am getting dehydrated and am going through a water bottle every 10 miles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the day I had half joked to Mark that someone &lt;em&gt;(maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;McKenna&lt;/span&gt;?)&lt;/em&gt; must be looking out for us and sent us a little gift from heaven when Julio showed up, because it makes it &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; much easier when you have three people instead of just two. Plus it gave Mark a break from always having to take the lead the entire time. &lt;em&gt;(I'm too slow for him to draft off of me)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pretty soon Julio got a little bit ahead of us and then a little bit more. By the time we made it to the next rest stop he was nowhere to be seen. He had rode off just like he rode up to us - seemingly out of nowhere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we get closer to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Saratoga&lt;/span&gt; Springs, Mark called Jade &amp;amp; Willy and told them to bring the kids out to where the course ran through our neighborhood so she could take some pictures to document this momentous occasion. Jack drove down in his electric Jeep with Madeline riding shotgun. He also was kind enough to fill up his squirt gun and squirt me when I stopped for a break under the tree on the corner. I loved it - I was HOT!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzXuFjK7DI/AAAAAAAAAX0/bKPGFeUJhJk/s1600-h/IMG_9169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236797653488692274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzXuFjK7DI/AAAAAAAAAX0/bKPGFeUJhJk/s400/IMG_9169.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here we are coming up through our neighborhood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzXuSFDjmI/AAAAAAAAAX8/6IlI7c1e3O4/s1600-h/IMG_9171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236797656852041314" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzXuSFDjmI/AAAAAAAAAX8/6IlI7c1e3O4/s400/IMG_9171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now we pose for a Photo Op - this is at Mile 98. Don't we look Fabulous!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me tell you it took every ounce of willpower that I had to get back on my bike and keep on riding the remaining 13 miles, instead of turning up the street and riding the 1/2 mile to my house. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzhxTUmW8I/AAAAAAAAAYM/QswhtV9O3uQ/s1600-h/IMG_9172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236808703841557442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzhxTUmW8I/AAAAAAAAAYM/QswhtV9O3uQ/s400/IMG_9172.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But in the end I did and I am glad that I did it - at least I can say I finished. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the race I didn't feel so good. After much brow beating from one of my "Nurse Sisters" I went to the doctor and found out that my electrolytes were out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wack&lt;/span&gt;. Apparently you can DIE from this - - who knew?!? Anyway, I got some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; and am feeling much better now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually I am considering doing it again next year. I think it is like having a baby. While you are doing it you are swearing to all things holy that you will NEVER, NEVER, EVER do this again. But once it is over, then you say, well. . . that wasn't so bad, I bet I could get a better time next year! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and the best part? I had several complements on my cute bike and jersey. One girl even said "Wow, what a cute bike and look, it matches her jersey - I wish I matched like that". This was heard as I was PASSING her. - - So you see I wasn't dead last in the ride and hey I looked cute doing it - which is what really counts anyway right?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4939434060391644282?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4939434060391644282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4939434060391644282' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4939434060391644282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4939434060391644282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/08/check-this-one-off-list.html' title='Check This One Off the List!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SKzZVu__LsI/AAAAAAAAAYE/x_bClMjxd_g/s72-c/ulcer_logowithflames.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8630218660075551675</id><published>2008-08-06T10:02:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T10:48:02.977-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zucchini'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='olympics'/><title type='text'>Beware August 8th!</title><content type='html'>I'll bet you are thinking that this post is about the opening night of the Olympics which coincidentally happen to fall on August 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; this year.&lt;br /&gt;However, Do NOT be fooled!   While you are sitting mesmerized in front of the TV, you may just hear the doorbell ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pizza delivery?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DON'T THINK SO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; is also &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;National&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;"Sneak Some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Zucchini&lt;/span&gt; Onto Your Neighbor's Porch Night."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231438193165553122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJnNUcALTeI/AAAAAAAAAXk/baWWTBxRXbs/s400/zuchinni.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;You see the Olympics are just a clever cover up, to get you to let your guard down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the spirit of the occasion I thought I would post one of my favorite &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Zucchini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;recipes&lt;/span&gt;. Actually this is the only way that I can get my family &lt;em&gt;(read husband)&lt;/em&gt; to eat&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Zucchini&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Cake - - Complements of my Mom, Vickie Bronson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 3/4 c. Sugar&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 c. Flour&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. Cocoa&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 tsp. Baking Powder&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 tsp. Baking Soda&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. Salt&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. Cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;2 eggs&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp. Vanilla&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 c. Grated&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Zucchini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - drained&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. buttermilk&lt;br /&gt;1 c. Nuts&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. Butter&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. Oil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beat Butter, Sugar &amp;amp; Eggs until blended. Then add other ingredients. put in 9x13 cake pan that has been greased and floured.&lt;br /&gt;Mix 3/4 c. brown sugar, 3/4 c. nuts &amp;amp; 3/4 c. chocolate chips together and sprinkle on top of cake before baking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bake @ 350 degrees for 40-45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few notes about the recipe. I don't usually add nuts to the cake mix itself - personal preference. Also, since I am a food snob, I only use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ghirardelli&lt;/span&gt; Milk Chocolate chips - and I don't measure the stuff on the top. I think the recipe actually calls for semi-sweet chocolate chips, but I prefer the milk. Oh, and one last thing, it mixes easier if you add the &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it would be nicer if your neighbor doorbell ditched you with a nice Chocolate &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Zucchini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Cake instead of just the &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, but now you'll be prepared. Then you can call all your friends on your "&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Zucchini&lt;/span&gt; Phone&lt;/span&gt;" like the kooky lady below.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231438197943754322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJnNUtzY3lI/AAAAAAAAAXs/wJZ7crK2pGE/s400/zuchinni+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Seriously she looks &lt;em&gt;way&lt;/em&gt; too happy - - maybe she has found another "use" for those pesky &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;seeds?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8630218660075551675?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8630218660075551675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8630218660075551675' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8630218660075551675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8630218660075551675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/08/beware-august-8th.html' title='Beware August 8th!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJnNUcALTeI/AAAAAAAAAXk/baWWTBxRXbs/s72-c/zuchinni.1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7518937662175826509</id><published>2008-07-31T17:05:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T17:30:43.061-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camera'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pool Monday'/><title type='text'>AFTER Pool Monday. . . .</title><content type='html'>If you read my previous blog about having more fun with my kids, you will remember that one of the things that I've been doing is "Pool Monday" each week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a pool in our nieghborhood that we pay for with our HOA fees and so it's close and the cost is nominal &lt;em&gt;(I like to say FREE, but Mark always points out that it is NOT free - - killjoy!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway just this past Monday I was telling him how great it was to take the kids to the pool - get them all worn out - feed them dinner, and then off to bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it backfired on me pretty bad this week.  Here's how it went down: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go to the pool.  Stay for about 2 hours.  The kids play, we lay in the sun, etc.  When we get home I feed them a snack and turn on a movie while I have some "quiet time".  I was pretty tired and so I laid down on the couch with them and the next thing I knew the phone was ringing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Mark telling me he was on his way home and wondering how my day had gone.  I rub my eyes and realize it is eerily quiet at my house and it's been a good hour since I turned on the movie!  I told Mark - "Whew, I am glad you called me - -  I must have dozed off for a minute!"  He then asks "Where are the children?"   "Well, they're around here somewhere!"  I start frantically looking around the house and find them playing quietly in their rooms.   Wow, I think I'm really lucky.  I dodged the bullet on THAT one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is until I went to download some pictures from my camera.   Apparently, my two artistically inclined genious children decided that I wasn't the only one who could take pictures with the camera.  I mean seriously, if MOM can do it, how hard can it be?!?&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGo4c1jOI/AAAAAAAAAW8/YZ69TbES5mg/s1600-h/IMG_8893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229319785492614370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGo4c1jOI/AAAAAAAAAW8/YZ69TbES5mg/s400/IMG_8893.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGpaVBZ0I/AAAAAAAAAXE/Zk_lUZNaqRg/s1600-h/IMG_8906.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229319794586642242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGpaVBZ0I/AAAAAAAAAXE/Zk_lUZNaqRg/s400/IMG_8906.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For some reason the shutter didn't open all the way when they turned it on so you get an even more artistic flair and don't ask me  how they got the color to go red. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGph22RLI/AAAAAAAAAXM/iM7Q5-VOo8I/s1600-h/IMG_8892.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229319796607567026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGph22RLI/AAAAAAAAAXM/iM7Q5-VOo8I/s400/IMG_8892.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here we have a showing of some lovely artwork by the 4 year old and photographed by the same 4 year old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGp35eF7I/AAAAAAAAAXU/EeGz6Z48xtA/s1600-h/IMG_8958.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229319802524145586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGp35eF7I/AAAAAAAAAXU/EeGz6Z48xtA/s400/IMG_8958.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is either a self portrait or his sister is trying to take the camera from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGqaTmo3I/AAAAAAAAAXc/EgA7dQaAlsc/s1600-h/IMG_8959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229319811760563058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGqaTmo3I/AAAAAAAAAXc/EgA7dQaAlsc/s400/IMG_8959.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;EXTREME CLOSE-UP&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7518937662175826509?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7518937662175826509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7518937662175826509' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7518937662175826509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7518937662175826509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/after-pool-monday.html' title='AFTER Pool Monday. . . .'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SJJGo4c1jOI/AAAAAAAAAW8/YZ69TbES5mg/s72-c/IMG_8893.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-1141795035522248376</id><published>2008-07-23T16:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:11:25.087-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40'/><title type='text'>Four Months. . . But Who's Counting?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YOLnijI/AAAAAAAAAWU/pxM5iDBZYd4/s1600-h/40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226347519338318386" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YOLnijI/AAAAAAAAAWU/pxM5iDBZYd4/s400/40.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's official. Four months from now &lt;em&gt;(actually yesterday)&lt;/em&gt; I will turn 40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what to expect. People make such a big deal about mid life crisis, over the hill, etc., etc. This made me start to wonder. Will I wake up a different person when I turn 40? Will I suddenly start acting like a teenager? &lt;em&gt;(Heaven forbid! I already have 3 and who wants to act like them?!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YRvRgaI/AAAAAAAAAWc/klFKJp-ohN0/s1600-h/forty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226347520293175714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YRvRgaI/AAAAAAAAAWc/klFKJp-ohN0/s400/forty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Will I suddenly be completely unhappy with my zippy Honda Accord and NEED a fast Harley motorcycle so I can cruise around with booty shorts, some chaps and a tube top?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YYX-ynI/AAAAAAAAAWs/GJc_OG0uZQk/s1600-h/CGC8RFCAU1TCHTCAOP3CBVCAOVZ210CAXLCOP6CAX3ZO9NCAXRXHMWCATU9E4DCA9S5JRECAXLIK56CAOS7C9MCANI5XLPCARLSF4GCAUPEO10CAHC6EF6CA80KQKPCAMX6W7YCA2Z3HCXCAR3PXM8CA03BV6H.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226347522074528370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YYX-ynI/AAAAAAAAAWs/GJc_OG0uZQk/s400/CGC8RFCAU1TCHTCAOP3CBVCAOVZ210CAXLCOP6CAX3ZO9NCAXRXHMWCATU9E4DCA9S5JRECAXLIK56CAOS7C9MCANI5XLPCARLSF4GCAUPEO10CAHC6EF6CA80KQKPCAMX6W7YCA2Z3HCXCAR3PXM8CA03BV6H.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've seen several blogs with lists of 40 things to do before you turn 40. Most of these have been posted by my much younger &lt;em&gt;(read plenty of time to complete the list)&lt;/em&gt; friends. This started me thinking about things I wanted to accomplish before I turned 40 and decided that since I did NOT want to set myself up for failure I would narrow it down to 4 things to do before I turned 40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually as a disclaimer, I started thinking about some of these things long before 40 was pounding on my back door, breathing down my neck and trying to muscle me out of my thirties. So here you go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YtbJIZI/AAAAAAAAAW0/AjcDA3SQDMM/s1600-h/SM171~Somewhere-Over-The-Hill-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226347527724933522" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YtbJIZI/AAAAAAAAAW0/AjcDA3SQDMM/s400/SM171~Somewhere-Over-The-Hill-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 1. Loose Weight. OK before you click out of my blog because this is the OLDEST goal known to womankind. Let me be more specific and explain. My specific goal is to weigh 140 lbs. by 40. This is what I weighed before I got cancer and was given the lovely hormone / steroid cocktail that made me gain 9 lbs in 10 days and 25 lbs overall. THEN having 2 kids in 2 years AFTER 35 didn't really help matters either. So there you have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do some cool physical feat - like run a marathon, do a triathlon, ride a century &lt;em&gt;(100 mi.)&lt;/em&gt; bike ride, etc. Well, I discovered that I am "Special Ed Sally" in the pool, so that cancels out the triathlon. Running for 26 miles didn't really appeal to me, so that leaves the bike ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have signed up for the Utah Lake Epic Ride&lt;em&gt; (111 miles - - but who's counting?!?)&lt;/em&gt; on August 9th. If I make it &lt;em&gt;(live)&lt;/em&gt; I will let you know how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Add some culture and learn a new skill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to learn to play the violin this year. I have been taking lessons from my friend Mari since January. It has been slow going and sometimes humbling to realize that I'm on the same level as some snot nosed 8 year old. However, Mari is an excellent teacher and the true test will come in December when I have to play a Christmas ensemble with a group &lt;em&gt;(probably some 8 year olds)&lt;/em&gt; during Sacrament Meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Don't sweat the small stuff in life - learn to have fun with my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some of you this may seem like a no brainer. However I am all about "The List" and getting it done. As I look back at my "first batch" of kids I realized that sometimes I would pass up an opportunity to do something that would have been fun because there was laundry to do, or the garden to weed or floors to mop, or whatever was on my list. Now, I am not saying that my older kids were deprived by any means, &lt;em&gt;(they might tell you different)&lt;/em&gt; but I think I lost some great opportunities for something that was not as important in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This goal is not something that can be accomplished by the time I am 40, however I have been trying really hard to work on it, especially this summer. My two little ones are getting to the age where I can do a few things with them and so I have been trying to take advantage of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have instituted "Pool Monday" and "Pool Wednesday" with some of my friends in the neighborhood and we go to the pool on those afternoons - sometimes on Friday as well. The kids really love it and it forces me to let some of the little things go, and you know what? It doesn't really make a difference! My house has not fallen down yet because the floors didn't get vacuumed every day - you may just have to wear flip flops when walking through the kitchen, but the POOL was great that day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned to see if I REALLY make it to FORTY. Will I turn all warty? Will I get the Harley complete with chaps and tube top?! &lt;em&gt;(Chilly in November)&lt;/em&gt; Or will I just throw in another load of laundry, kiss my husband and babies and be grateful that I made it this far?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued. . . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-1141795035522248376?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/1141795035522248376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=1141795035522248376' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1141795035522248376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1141795035522248376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/four-months-but-whos-counting.html' title='Four Months. . . But Who&apos;s Counting?!?'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SIe3YOLnijI/AAAAAAAAAWU/pxM5iDBZYd4/s72-c/40.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-392666251437933605</id><published>2008-07-07T15:49:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T16:11:56.662-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='San Fernando'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mission'/><title type='text'>I Hope They Call Me On A Mission. . . .</title><content type='html'>Matt received his mission call this week.  Since he was on a cruise with some friends &lt;em&gt;(a high school graduation gift from his Mom)&lt;/em&gt; he had no choice but to wait until Sunday to open it.  I'm sure the suspense was killing him! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all gathered at his Mom's house in Sandy on Sunday evening and everyone took a guess as to where they thought he would go.  I guessed Brazil.  Mark was feeling Kansas City. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it turns out neither one of us was right . . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt has been called to the San Fernando, California  - Spanish speaking Mission. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQAyCC25I/AAAAAAAAAT8/ZAlU1bdG_sI/s1600-h/San+Fernando+CA.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220393261180574610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQAyCC25I/AAAAAAAAAT8/ZAlU1bdG_sI/s400/San+Fernando+CA.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know this, but Matt really wanted to go somewhere where he could learn Spanish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKRTWFmoVI/AAAAAAAAAUU/L5cU33u1ovQ/s1600-h/Spanish+speaking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220394679608451410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKRTWFmoVI/AAAAAAAAAUU/L5cU33u1ovQ/s400/Spanish+speaking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt will report to the MTC on September 17th.  When he opened the envelope and read the call to us he got really emotional - and that made me get all teary eyed too.   &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQBPpSfaI/AAAAAAAAAUE/_f1gtiYJTng/s1600-h/San+Fernando+CA+1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220393269129805218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQBPpSfaI/AAAAAAAAAUE/_f1gtiYJTng/s400/San+Fernando+CA+1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I forgot my camera I Googled some pictures of San Fernando, CA.  One of the ones that came up was this one: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQBWnvTmI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ADF2yEKbC3U/s1600-h/San+Fernando+CA+2.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220393271002353250" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQBWnvTmI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ADF2yEKbC3U/s400/San+Fernando+CA+2.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now, I am SURE it is not put out by the LDS church, but I thought I would include it since for the next two years Matt will be calling this little part of the world home.  I know that this will be hard for him.  But I also know that if he puts forth the effort that the Lord requires, great blessings will come his way.  We are very proud of the choice he has made to serve our Heavenly Father and his children at this time in his life.  Way to go Matt!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-392666251437933605?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/392666251437933605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=392666251437933605' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/392666251437933605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/392666251437933605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-hope-they-call-me-on-mission.html' title='I Hope They Call Me On A Mission. . . .'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SHKQAyCC25I/AAAAAAAAAT8/ZAlU1bdG_sI/s72-c/San+Fernando+CA.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7254224799718915796</id><published>2008-07-01T14:53:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T15:49:24.697-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rodeo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Small Town'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Round Up'/><title type='text'>My Town</title><content type='html'>My family has lived in the same small town for 27 years.  When we first moved here we lived on what was then the outskirts of town - known as "The Bench".  There wasn't much up there - our block was 2 miles around and had about 8 or 9 houses around it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The town didn't have any stop lights - just stop signs.  Several intersections didn't even have a stop sign at all - you just used common sense when you approached them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark and I built our first house about 2 miles from my parents house and lived there for 11 years and loved it.  It was just far enough away that we weren't in their hair all the time, but close enough that the kids could ride their bike up to Grandma's house on a Sunday afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon the town started to grow and things started to change.  The day they put a stop light on Main Street, I had a little fit.  Mark &lt;em&gt;(being from the little big city of Reno)&lt;/em&gt; tried to reason with me and explain how much it was needed etc., etc.  I was having NONE of it!  I told him this was the beginning of the end, things would never be the same.  In a way I was right.  The population of our town has exploded over the past 10 years.  However, there is one thing that has remained the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year the city has a City Celebration called Round-Up Days.  They have various activities throughout the week.  There is the All Horse Parade on Thursday night where you can see the Rodeo Queens, the Sheriff's Possee, and lots of other talented &lt;em&gt;(and some not so talented)&lt;/em&gt; horsemanship.  Also if you sit next to my smart alec sisters you get a lot of "horses ass" jokes.  Funny every year! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the start of the all horse parade - I just love it when the flag comes by and we all stand to pay our respects.  I almost always get teary eyed thinking about how lucky we are to be able to live in such a great place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqavpixuvI/AAAAAAAAAS4/gt_tPehFCLc/s1600-h/girls+w+flag+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218153261658389234" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqavpixuvI/AAAAAAAAAS4/gt_tPehFCLc/s400/girls+w+flag+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is one  of the Rodeo Queens - Madeline kept telling me "Look Mama - it's a princess!!"  She loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqawitNHrI/AAAAAAAAATI/a6yEVJs8eZA/s1600-h/queens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218153277002948274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqawitNHrI/AAAAAAAAATI/a6yEVJs8eZA/s400/queens.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have a parade on Friday night and Saturday morning where each of the LDS wards in Lehi decorates a float and enters it in the parade.  It is very much a hometown parade - along with the other larger floats, marching bands, cheerleaders, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family always goes to the Saturday morning parade - and we always meet at the same place.  This year was especially hot and Jack brought his squirt gun.  It was entertaining just watching him squirt people in the parade - although we told him no squirting the queens - only the kids pullling the floats.  Here they are scoping out their next victims!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqaxIvkHLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ZGgurUATSXg/s1600-h/Jack+_Mads+parade+squirt+gun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218153287213391026" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqaxIvkHLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ZGgurUATSXg/s400/Jack+_Mads+parade+squirt+gun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the Rodeo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqaxfIyYkI/AAAAAAAAATY/3e--kCmC11o/s1600-h/Kids+rodeo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218153293224763970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqaxfIyYkI/AAAAAAAAATY/3e--kCmC11o/s400/Kids+rodeo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a three night event that goes Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights.  This has gotten to be very popular and sells out very soon after tickets go on sale.  This year we sent my sister Julie down on opening day to get us all tickets together for Saturday night.  We got lucky and got seats together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, my most favorite part is when they bring out the flag.  This year they handed out small flags to everyone as they walked in the gate and before they sang the National Anthem they played God Bless America and the horses trotted around the arena and everyone waved their flags.  It was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqcLqFuXlI/AAAAAAAAATo/VhwzecWVqFE/s1600-h/horses+flags+rodeo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218154842352934482" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqcLqFuXlI/AAAAAAAAATo/VhwzecWVqFE/s400/horses+flags+rodeo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not a great picture, but here we are before the rodeo started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqcK0XU8WI/AAAAAAAAATg/cKGZLO_SS6E/s1600-h/Jana+_kids+rodeo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218154827931251042" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqcK0XU8WI/AAAAAAAAATg/cKGZLO_SS6E/s400/Jana+_kids+rodeo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the love of my life - he came late because he was out of town, but he made it and that's what counts! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqcMFJ4aoI/AAAAAAAAATw/v7L0gs2yLrE/s1600-h/Jana+_+Mark+rodeo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218154849618127490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqcMFJ4aoI/AAAAAAAAATw/v7L0gs2yLrE/s400/Jana+_+Mark+rodeo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have very fond memories of Round-Up Days and hope to pass the tradition on to my kids.  I know that there will always be change and it isn't the same small town that I once knew, but maybe if we keep some of the traditions alive, some of that feeling will carry on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7254224799718915796?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7254224799718915796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7254224799718915796' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7254224799718915796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7254224799718915796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-town.html' title='My Town'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SGqavpixuvI/AAAAAAAAAS4/gt_tPehFCLc/s72-c/girls+w+flag+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4755928804876823823</id><published>2008-06-10T15:56:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T17:27:17.590-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Red Riding Hood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biking'/><title type='text'>Little Red Riding Hood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76uwMlEVI/AAAAAAAAARo/1KAyVopCsUY/s1600-h/Red+Riding+Hood.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210377500032831826" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px" height="188" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76uwMlEVI/AAAAAAAAARo/1KAyVopCsUY/s400/Red+Riding+Hood.bmp" width="442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I participated in the Little Red Riding Hood women's only ride.  This is a yearly event with all proceeds going to benefit Huntsman Cancer and some of the most serious issues facing women. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I did this ride and loved it.  The scenery is beautiful, the weather was great, and there is a really fun atmosphere throughout the ride.  Last year was the first year I had my bike.  It was a Mother's Day gift from my loving husband &lt;em&gt;(a biker man himself)&lt;/em&gt;  Funny thing though, I said "sewing machine" and he heard "road bike".  Huh,  must be one of those Men are from Mars things. . .   Anyway.  I did 40 miles last year and was really excited to ride again this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, figuring that I was a more experienced rider this year and I would be able to ride about the same amount as last Spring, I ambitiously signed up for the 64 mile ride this year.  Of course things didn't quite work out the way I had planned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a really wet and cold Spring &lt;em&gt;(hard to ride when it's raining)&lt;/em&gt; and then if you have read my previous posts about my basement woes and graduation - the bottom line here is that I was nowhere near as prepared as I should have been for this ride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's just cut to the chase:  Ride Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am before the start.  Don't I look happy?  The weather was a little chilly and there was a slight wind - no big deal at this point.  I've got my arm warmers, wind vest and my pockets in back are packed with all the essentials that I might need - cell phone, lip stuff, asthma inhaler, etc. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76vWMQJ7I/AAAAAAAAARw/Tevl0-39oOc/s1600-h/Ready+to+Ride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210377510232008626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76vWMQJ7I/AAAAAAAAARw/Tevl0-39oOc/s400/Ready+to+Ride.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am at the starting point - this is where you "hurry up and wait."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76wIq83rI/AAAAAAAAAR4/JdUNbHVpqbA/s1600-h/Waiting+to+Ride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210377523782540978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76wIq83rI/AAAAAAAAAR4/JdUNbHVpqbA/s400/Waiting+to+Ride.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first 30 miles were great - not really a problem.  &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_BXIGUTI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Q-xS5IVSbkU/s1600-h/Car+View.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210382217767178546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_BXIGUTI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Q-xS5IVSbkU/s400/Car+View.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after lunch the wind picked up and we had a REALLY strong headwind for the last 30 miles.  I have to tell you I HATE, hate, HATE the wind! &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76w0OgIbI/AAAAAAAAASA/bLojQtCojWY/s1600-h/Lonely+Road.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210377535474377138" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76w0OgIbI/AAAAAAAAASA/bLojQtCojWY/s400/Lonely+Road.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am making progress slowly, but surely.  I had to down shift to a lower gear just to keep going in that miserable wind!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76xhVA7tI/AAAAAAAAASI/ijfpe4of-CA/s1600-h/Lonely+Road+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210377547581288146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76xhVA7tI/AAAAAAAAASI/ijfpe4of-CA/s400/Lonely+Road+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this picture is a story!  Notice the three women behind me.  They are drafting on me.  This means that I am blocking the wind and making it a little easier for them to ride.  When you ride on a team, you usually take turns being in the front so that one person is not doing all the work and everyone benefits.  Even if you are NOT on a team, it is courteous to take turns.&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_CAOKe5I/AAAAAAAAASY/MZZyaFvCe3Y/s1600-h/Drafting+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210382228798471058" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_CAOKe5I/AAAAAAAAASY/MZZyaFvCe3Y/s400/Drafting+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  That being said - these chubby chicks come up behind me and start drafting on me &lt;em&gt;(in the crappy, crappy headwind)&lt;/em&gt; for about 6 miles.  This is hard work people!  So finally I start straying off to one side hoping that they will get the hint.  Not a chance!  Then I say "Hey, do one of you want to take the front? " and the one closest to me goes "No, we're good!" all cheery like.  So help me - - - if I get off this bike. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_CAOKe5I/AAAAAAAAASY/MZZyaFvCe3Y/s1600-h/Drafting+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am on the home stretch - look, I can actually get my arm up to wave to Mark as he takes my picture! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_C_J9H1I/AAAAAAAAASo/3krlbfJxzkM/s1600-h/Home+Stretch+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210382245692251986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_C_J9H1I/AAAAAAAAASo/3krlbfJxzkM/s400/Home+Stretch+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the finish line they give sparkling cider to all cyclists and the Big Bad Wolf is there to greet you and congratulate you on a job well done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_DbQOTpI/AAAAAAAAASw/6j2LDEIsq98/s1600-h/Big+Bad+Wolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210382253234736786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7_DbQOTpI/AAAAAAAAASw/6j2LDEIsq98/s400/Big+Bad+Wolf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew - 64 miles!  I feel good, but man am I glad Mark is driving us home!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4755928804876823823?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4755928804876823823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4755928804876823823' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4755928804876823823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4755928804876823823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-red-riding-hood.html' title='Little Red Riding Hood'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE76uwMlEVI/AAAAAAAAARo/1KAyVopCsUY/s72-c/Red+Riding+Hood.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2065569272180332093</id><published>2008-06-10T14:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T15:28:57.604-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PTA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grad night'/><title type='text'>GrAD NiGhT PaRTy!!</title><content type='html'>I'm on the PTA board of  our High School.  Now before you get too impressed, what this actually means is that I prepare the newsletter that is sent out each quarter along with your student's grade report. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually I try to make it to the meeting each month, but that usually means that I am bringing along my two "Supervisors" and they love to explore the front office of the High school. &lt;em&gt;(the front office ladies don't like it so much)&lt;/em&gt;  So. . . my attendance is spotty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while back my friend asked if I would be willing to help with the Grad Night party and I said "sure, just let me know what I can do."  A little later she came back to me and said "would you be willing to help with the games?"  Again I said "sure that sounds fine."  Somehow from there &lt;em&gt;(this part is still a mystery to me)&lt;/em&gt; I became IN CHARGE of the games for the evening!!  AAAGGGHHH!!!  How to entertain 370 teenagers?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had a GREAT committee and they came up with some wonderful ideas.  I must admit I was a little hesitant at first.  However it all worked out great and based on the feedback from the kids I think they all had a great time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had the gum chewing for weight game where they had to unwrap as much gum with oven mitts on their hands, using a spoon and a fork, chew it up and then spit it out and weigh it  to see whose gum weighed the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sPacoqnI/AAAAAAAAARQ/OFU-W2A95n0/s1600-h/IMG_8768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361568455862898" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sPacoqnI/AAAAAAAAARQ/OFU-W2A95n0/s400/IMG_8768.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sQGtWJOI/AAAAAAAAARY/SpYFGs8DtFg/s1600-h/IMG_8774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361580337112290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sQGtWJOI/AAAAAAAAARY/SpYFGs8DtFg/s400/IMG_8774.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the end of the night the team with the heaviest gum won.  &lt;em&gt;(Gross)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sPacoqnI/AAAAAAAAARQ/OFU-W2A95n0/s1600-h/IMG_8768.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was the VERY popular Boxer Bingo.  The only rule here was that if you won you had to wear the boxers that you won. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sQ-bDchI/AAAAAAAAARg/h7ZwAM4QxZc/s1600-h/IMG_8782.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361595292774930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sQ-bDchI/AAAAAAAAARg/h7ZwAM4QxZc/s400/IMG_8782.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a plate and cup stacking contest &lt;em&gt;(who knew they would get so into this?!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qnt8BhlI/AAAAAAAAAQo/Mw3fJs5ssS0/s1600-h/IMG_8738.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210359786981394002" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qnt8BhlI/AAAAAAAAAQo/Mw3fJs5ssS0/s400/IMG_8738.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a nail pounding competition with a boys and girls category.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qpN5xPWI/AAAAAAAAAQw/QnkoMPUxgBw/s1600-h/IMG_8740.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210359812741741922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qpN5xPWI/AAAAAAAAAQw/QnkoMPUxgBw/s400/IMG_8740.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course we had lots of yummy food and treats for them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qpkmw3RI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/uTrcyzKfcjw/s1600-h/IMG_8745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210359818836040978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qpkmw3RI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/uTrcyzKfcjw/s400/IMG_8745.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the all time favorites was the Drunk Goggles.  We borrowed them from the Utah Highway Patrol and had the kids wear them and then walk a straight line and then a serpentine through the cones.  More fun to watch than to actually do if you ask me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qqAXRJTI/AAAAAAAAARA/zeeBYA7Ny0g/s1600-h/IMG_8748.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210359826287240498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qqAXRJTI/AAAAAAAAARA/zeeBYA7Ny0g/s400/IMG_8748.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had to stand on a balance beam and pass an orange with their neck.  This sounds dumb, but they LOVED it.  Again, Who Knew?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qqufIgeI/AAAAAAAAARI/jOfsAKv81Lg/s1600-h/IMG_8760.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210359838668259810" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7qqufIgeI/AAAAAAAAARI/jOfsAKv81Lg/s400/IMG_8760.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grad Night lasted from 9:00 pm until 5:00 am the next morning.  The only rule was that if the kids left they couldn't come back in.  We had tons of other activities including Comedy Sports, Laser Tag, Rock Band competition, Ping Pong, Swimming, Prize Wheel, Roaming Magician, food, food and more food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall it was a success.  We originally sold about 330 tickets before the event and then sold about 40 more at the door.  This is only the 3rd year that the PTA has done something like this so to have that many kids out of a graduating class of 568 come,  I think it was fabulous!  Also, we  could not have pulled this off if it weren't for the help and support of all the parents who were willing to come in and run our games, take tickets, clean up food, roam the halls, and just be there.  It says a lot about a community when you have parents who are so willing to take such an active part in their children's lives.  I am so lucky to be a part of such a community!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2065569272180332093?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2065569272180332093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2065569272180332093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2065569272180332093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2065569272180332093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/grad-night-party.html' title='GrAD NiGhT PaRTy!!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SE7sPacoqnI/AAAAAAAAARQ/OFU-W2A95n0/s72-c/IMG_8768.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-1862145935641863208</id><published>2008-06-06T15:35:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T16:04:53.342-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grandma Chris'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><title type='text'>Jade's Graduation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I can't believe that my little girl has graduated! This is so bittersweet for me. I am so proud of her and the young woman that she has become this far in her life and can't wait to see what the future will hold for her. I know that she will accomplish great things! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Here is our clan along with my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvmQy5giI/AAAAAAAAAPg/a2mt7Ginu8U/s1600-h/Harris+Clan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208887515909030434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvmQy5giI/AAAAAAAAAPg/a2mt7Ginu8U/s400/Harris+Clan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade's Dad and Grandma Chris from Arizona came for her graduation. She doesn't get to see them very much and I was happy that they were able to come for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvmiXMcPI/AAAAAAAAAPo/fuLBPvdX_5A/s1600-h/Jade,+Grandma,+Eric.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208887520624668914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvmiXMcPI/AAAAAAAAAPo/fuLBPvdX_5A/s400/Jade,+Grandma,+Eric.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Jade showing her "real" side!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvnLdnDAI/AAAAAAAAAPw/aelJNSETGGY/s1600-h/Jade,+Mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208887531657432066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvnLdnDAI/AAAAAAAAAPw/aelJNSETGGY/s400/Jade,+Mom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade, Jordan and their Dad Eric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvnWseLQI/AAAAAAAAAP4/ogTq-SeS8DQ/s1600-h/Jade,+Jordan,+Eric.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208887534672555266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvnWseLQI/AAAAAAAAAP4/ogTq-SeS8DQ/s400/Jade,+Jordan,+Eric.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade and Willy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvn5YqoYI/AAAAAAAAAQA/okTCr4FoCEg/s1600-h/Jade,+Willy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208887543984726402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvn5YqoYI/AAAAAAAAAQA/okTCr4FoCEg/s400/Jade,+Willy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Jade and her friend Bree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmyv25ly4I/AAAAAAAAAQI/KjfsIvt2jqE/s1600-h/Jade+Bree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208890979291351938" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmyv25ly4I/AAAAAAAAAQI/KjfsIvt2jqE/s400/Jade+Bree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade and her friend Kaeli &lt;em&gt;(do you think they look alike?)&lt;/em&gt; They have been mistaken for twins on more than one occasion which is ironic because Kaeli is a triplet! &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmyw-Je-GI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/clhnPV-7oQs/s1600-h/Jade+Kailee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208890998416930914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmyw-Je-GI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/clhnPV-7oQs/s400/Jade+Kailee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack &amp;amp; Madeline, having had enough of the picture taking are plotting their escape . . . .  Unfortunately Mark and Matt are wise to their plans - - curses foiled again!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmyyPyp27I/AAAAAAAAAQg/l0OAsxOVpBU/s1600-h/Jack,+Madsie+plotting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208891020332882866" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmyyPyp27I/AAAAAAAAAQg/l0OAsxOVpBU/s400/Jack,+Madsie+plotting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-1862145935641863208?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/1862145935641863208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=1862145935641863208' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1862145935641863208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1862145935641863208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/jades-graduation.html' title='Jade&apos;s Graduation'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmvmQy5giI/AAAAAAAAAPg/a2mt7Ginu8U/s72-c/Harris+Clan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-1740998591782944297</id><published>2008-06-06T15:03:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T15:27:37.985-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><title type='text'>Matt's Graduation</title><content type='html'>Well he did it and we are just so proud! &lt;br /&gt; Matt graduated from Jordan High on Tuesday.  Here are some pics for you to see.&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoIUF-rrI/AAAAAAAAAO4/soF2FWEYdZI/s1600-h/Matt+Diploma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208879304816897714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoIUF-rrI/AAAAAAAAAO4/soF2FWEYdZI/s400/Matt+Diploma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoJYm_BjI/AAAAAAAAAPA/38lSaxhFf6A/s1600-h/Matt,+Jack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208879323208943154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoJYm_BjI/AAAAAAAAAPA/38lSaxhFf6A/s400/Matt,+Jack.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoK4Iyr6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/qhC8p4mFMX8/s1600-h/Matt,+Jack,+Mad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208879348852109218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoK4Iyr6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/qhC8p4mFMX8/s400/Matt,+Jack,+Mad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoLBA4_LI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/IcFFoygMCU0/s1600-h/Matt,+Mark,+Kids+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208879351234886834" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoLBA4_LI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/IcFFoygMCU0/s400/Matt,+Mark,+Kids+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoLpfbacI/AAAAAAAAAPY/oNbXAQxYV7w/s1600-h/Matt,+Jana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208879362100390338" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoLpfbacI/AAAAAAAAAPY/oNbXAQxYV7w/s400/Matt,+Jana.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-1740998591782944297?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/1740998591782944297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=1740998591782944297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1740998591782944297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1740998591782944297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/matts-graduation.html' title='Matt&apos;s Graduation'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEmoIUF-rrI/AAAAAAAAAO4/soF2FWEYdZI/s72-c/Matt+Diploma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2919352156354911413</id><published>2008-06-03T21:06:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T22:06:29.298-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='widsom teeth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='krazy three weeks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jeep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='basement flood'/><title type='text'>Three kRaZy Weeks!</title><content type='html'>First I want to say I know, I know it has been three weeks since I last posted, but what a three weeks it has been!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It all started with a flat tire on Saturday the 10th of May. No big deal right? Mark was meeting some friends for a "Man Trip" and left the car parked in the church parking lot and asked if I would take the tire &lt;em&gt;(already off of the car)&lt;/em&gt; and get it fixed sometime that day. Sure not a problem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday afternoon while driving our jeep we heard a weird noise and decided that it needed to be checked out. We took it to our mechanic and dropped it off to be looked at on Monday. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207868549646522562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEYQ2nqcGMI/AAAAAAAAAOo/1GiH7nLKYsw/s320/broken%2520car.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday morning our mechanic called with the bad news that the Jeep had "thrown a rod". Now I'm not &lt;em&gt;exactly&lt;/em&gt; sure what that means, but I do know that it's BAD and expen$ive. In our case it meant replacing the engine. It was one of those "can't really afford to do it, but can't really afford NOT to do it things. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, Monday afternoon came and we discovered that our basement was flooded -- of course it was the part that was finished! &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEYSfHqcGNI/AAAAAAAAAOw/SyDy0_TfqQ4/s1600-h/ar044_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207870344942852306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEYSfHqcGNI/AAAAAAAAAOw/SyDy0_TfqQ4/s320/ar044_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first we couldn't determine where the water was coming from - sprinklers, up from under the house &lt;em&gt;(heaven forbid!)&lt;/em&gt; something else?!? It turned out to be a broken hose bib. and the result was that we had to move Jade and Matt out of their rooms ASAP. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEYMgHqcGLI/AAAAAAAAAOg/CEmlc9keOLE/s1600-h/toothache.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207863765052954802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="277" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEYMgHqcGLI/AAAAAAAAAOg/CEmlc9keOLE/s400/toothache.gif" width="209" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jade had her wisdom teeth out Monday morning and came straight home and went to bed.  When I realized how serious the problem was, our conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "Hey Jade, um. . . . I know that you just had your teeth out and don't feel very good, but we REALLY need to get your dresser out of here, could you get out of bed and help me move it?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jade: "Huh, we are moving? Oh, OK, just wake me in a little bit and I can help you. "  &lt;em&gt;(She's totally drugged up on pain meds and out of it!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "No honey I need you to help me NOW. The basement is FLOODING!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After that we had to tear out carpet, drywall, and insulation. Fix the problem and then put our rooms back together. We had a deadline since Mark's parents were coming to stay with us in just three short weeks!  Not to mention that Jade was camped out in our weight room!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Add to that the craziness of trying to help put together the Grad Night Party for the PTA and you can imagine my lack of sanity!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, stay tuned,  I will be posting pictures from both Jade and Matt's graduations and from our PTA Grad Night party. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2919352156354911413?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2919352156354911413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2919352156354911413' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2919352156354911413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2919352156354911413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/06/three-krazy-weeks.html' title='Three kRaZy Weeks!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SEYQ2nqcGMI/AAAAAAAAAOo/1GiH7nLKYsw/s72-c/broken%2520car.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2109104580893983691</id><published>2008-05-12T21:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T21:51:42.587-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purse'/><title type='text'>PuRSe Contents</title><content type='html'>My friend Joy "tagged" me and dared me to show the contents of my purse. I'm a little slow in taking the challenge but here you go! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199700182617455618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCkLxFNyfAI/AAAAAAAAAOY/8ohPIDU961A/s400/purse+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;In my defense:  This is actually the purse I got to go on our cruise in February and I needed something BIG to take on the plane.  Also, I change bags frequently - I get bored easily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here you go from the top:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Hard to see - but I have a bottle Excedrin - never leave home without it. &lt;br /&gt;2. Bag of peanut M&amp;amp;Ms - you never know when you might get stranded and need a little happy pick me up.&lt;br /&gt;3. Lip stuff - 3 different kinds &lt;em&gt;(again hard to see)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Wallet - holds cash &lt;em&gt;(on a good day)&lt;/em&gt; and cards.&lt;br /&gt;5. Gum - never know when I will need "minty fresh breath".&lt;br /&gt;6. Bills I need to mail.&lt;br /&gt;7. Quilting Magazine.  I LOVE to quilt and one of my favorite stores "The Material Girls" was featured as a Top 10 quilting store.  Here is why I love Material Girls:  I usually have to take my two tasmanian devils - aka - my supervisors with me when I shop.  The ladies at the Material Girls understand what it is like to have to take your kids with you everywhere and are understanding when mine get bored and start playing hide-n-seek in the fabrics.  On the other hand the old blue-hairs at Broadbents can't remember what they had for breakfast, much less what it's like to take your small children with you.  I am convinced that they hate ALL children - even my teenager, Jade &lt;em&gt;(who is very well behaved in fabric stores)!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress. . . .&lt;br /&gt;8.  Kleenex - some days I need them or one of my children does!&lt;br /&gt;9.  Cell phone - so my husband, kids and sisters can track me down when I "go to town".&lt;br /&gt;10. Hand lotion - I have horrible dry hands!&lt;br /&gt;11.  Mirror - I usually don't carry one of these, so it was a fun surprise in my bag&lt;br /&gt;12. Checkbook and miscellaneous frenquent diner and frequent quilter cards.&lt;br /&gt;13. Paint swatches from Kwall Howell - I am going to re-paint Madeline's room when she &lt;em&gt;(finally)&lt;/em&gt; moves into a "big girl bed."&lt;br /&gt;14.  Some random paper clip ?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is my turn to tag some of my friends:  Julie, Heidi, Sheryl, Hollie, Karalee &amp;amp; Michal - - are you up to the challenge?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2109104580893983691?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2109104580893983691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2109104580893983691' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2109104580893983691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2109104580893983691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/05/purse-contents.html' title='PuRSe Contents'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCkLxFNyfAI/AAAAAAAAAOY/8ohPIDU961A/s72-c/purse+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7338694015406872550</id><published>2008-05-11T11:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T11:33:50.376-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother&apos;s Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McKenna'/><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a05b5a8d13e7c0b4" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da05b5a8d13e7c0b4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331766913%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D301B7725B67379699DECB03B876B1841F5BAEAC3.7DC0BAC100369F4176547198BF07FB5396DFE695%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da05b5a8d13e7c0b4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DVQK0kv5lSxuU4sZ5Wm_mUyMBONk&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da05b5a8d13e7c0b4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331766913%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D301B7725B67379699DECB03B876B1841F5BAEAC3.7DC0BAC100369F4176547198BF07FB5396DFE695%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da05b5a8d13e7c0b4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DVQK0kv5lSxuU4sZ5Wm_mUyMBONk&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I would like to wish all the Mom's I know a Happy Mother's Day.  I know that today can be a hard day - you want your kids to act perfect, the house to stay clean &lt;em&gt;(dream on!)&lt;/em&gt; and everything to be just like it is in the movies &lt;em&gt;(again, dream on).&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However sometimes life gets in the way of that and your kids fight and pick at each other, the house will look like a bomb went off by the end of the day because "it's your day off and you don't want to pick up all the crap they drag out over and over".  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But then you look at their beautiful faces and know that it is all worth it.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I would like to share with you the gift that Jade gave to me this year.  For a photo class at school she had to make a slideshow as her final project.  The video above is the finished result that she presented to me this morning.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For those of you who don't know we have a little girl - McKenna, who would now be 12.  She was diagnosed with an inoperable brian tumor &lt;em&gt;(diffuse pontine glioma)&lt;/em&gt; three days after her 4th birthday.  This was also three weeks after we found out that I had breast cancer.  We did our radiation together and then I underwent 6 months of chemotherapy.  We knew from the start that our time with her was limited and there was nothing they could do for her.  So we decided that we would make the best of the time we had with her and make every day count.  Isn't that what we should always do with all of our children?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;McKenna fought this horrible disease valiantly until the end - which for us came way too fast.  She passed away 1 year after she was diagnosed.  This slide show is dedicated to her and her memory.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Mother's Day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jana &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7338694015406872550?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a05b5a8d13e7c0b4&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7338694015406872550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7338694015406872550' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7338694015406872550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7338694015406872550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-5156256731284026023</id><published>2008-05-08T21:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T22:39:17.780-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potting bench'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Garden'/><title type='text'>The Potting Bench</title><content type='html'>I love to garden. Usually when I plant my flowers in pots each Spring, I am either doing it on a card table in the garage or on the floor of the garage, or some other random place. For YEARS I have wanted a potting bench, for obvious reasons and well, because I thought it would "look cute" in my yard somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week I was browsing through some on-line ads and came across this jewel: &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPO2eyZ73I/AAAAAAAAANg/hQ_pTJP1gKg/s1600-h/Old+Ugly+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198225830288420722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPO2eyZ73I/AAAAAAAAANg/hQ_pTJP1gKg/s400/Old+Ugly+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPQZuyZ74I/AAAAAAAAANo/3Y_CJouOXUA/s1600-h/Old+Ugly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198227535390437250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPQZuyZ74I/AAAAAAAAANo/3Y_CJouOXUA/s400/Old+Ugly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The ad didn't name a price, it just said "make offer". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; looked and saw lots of potential. &lt;em&gt;Mark &lt;/em&gt;looked and saw crap. He said "Do you REALLY want to BUY that . . . THING?!?" My response was "Well yeah, I'll offer them $20 and see if they take it." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the description it stated that it was made out of Tiger Wood &lt;em&gt;(NOT Tiger Woods)&lt;/em&gt;. And let me tell you that was not just a catchy name! When I got it home I realized that the wood really was pretty ugly, but no matter. I had BIG plans for this bad boy. It had great lines and lots of potential. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Within about 3 hours of getting it in my garage, I had it sanded and painted. Then I did a second coat of paint and then "distressed it a little". &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPQaeyZ75I/AAAAAAAAANw/u9NE3i-LoLE/s1600-h/potting+bench+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198227548275339154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPQaeyZ75I/AAAAAAAAANw/u9NE3i-LoLE/s400/potting+bench+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the final result. I still need to find some drawer pulls for it because it is a little hard to get the drawers open without them! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198227556865273762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPQa-yZ76I/AAAAAAAAAN4/IhacEPvXEXw/s400/potting+bench+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is a little dirty because it's outside and I actually USED it today. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPUveyZ79I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/qXMpTd9lH_g/s1600-h/flowers+close.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198232307099103186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPUveyZ79I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/qXMpTd9lH_g/s400/flowers+close.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what I did: &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPR8-yZ78I/AAAAAAAAAOI/xbHVNJfTMe0/s1600-h/flowers+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198229240492453826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPR8-yZ78I/AAAAAAAAAOI/xbHVNJfTMe0/s400/flowers+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPQbeyZ77I/AAAAAAAAAOA/swRKrzGOwuw/s1600-h/potting+bench.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-5156256731284026023?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/5156256731284026023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=5156256731284026023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5156256731284026023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/5156256731284026023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/05/potting-bench.html' title='The Potting Bench'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SCPO2eyZ73I/AAAAAAAAANg/hQ_pTJP1gKg/s72-c/Old+Ugly+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-1129326007854164619</id><published>2008-05-05T10:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T11:58:29.556-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UTA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TRAX'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Train'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FrontRunner'/><title type='text'>Train Ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week UTA had a "grand opening" for their new FrontRunner train. It is a high speed train that &lt;em&gt;(right now)&lt;/em&gt; runs from SLC to Ogden and a few points in between. They were offering free rides for the first 4 days it was in operation. Jack is a HUGE train lover and so I thought it would be a fun outing to ride the TRAX train from Sandy to the main hub in SLC and then catch the FrontRunner and come back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB88HKf_sII/AAAAAAAAAMw/U30vH90BL-Q/s1600-h/JBH+_+kids+Trax.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196938588784144514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB88HKf_sII/AAAAAAAAAMw/U30vH90BL-Q/s400/JBH+_+kids+Trax.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, wow, if I only knew what I was getting myself into! &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB82O6f_sAI/AAAAAAAAALw/1_wjXh5NxHA/s1600-h/IMG_8519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196932124858363906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB82O6f_sAI/AAAAAAAAALw/1_wjXh5NxHA/s400/IMG_8519.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, we talked my Mom into coming with us since it was her day off . We started our adventure at around 11:30 am and drove to the Trax station &lt;em&gt;(about 20 minutes from my Mom's house)&lt;/em&gt;. We then rode Trax downtown and stopped and had lunch at the Gateway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB85caf_sFI/AAAAAAAAAMY/pnu7saOUqcE/s1600-h/IMG_8524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196935655321481298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB85caf_sFI/AAAAAAAAAMY/pnu7saOUqcE/s400/IMG_8524.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we got back on Trax and rode to the main SLC hub. When we got there there were ELEVENTY BILLION people who also thought it would be a great idea to ride the train for free!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB839qf_sCI/AAAAAAAAAMA/88qBdNdTfsc/s1600-h/IMG_8528.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196934027528876066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB839qf_sCI/AAAAAAAAAMA/88qBdNdTfsc/s400/IMG_8528.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got on the train and were lucky enough to find a seat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB83-Kf_sDI/AAAAAAAAAMI/BmY4vEUV-GM/s1600-h/J_M+on+train.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196934036118810674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB83-Kf_sDI/AAAAAAAAAMI/BmY4vEUV-GM/s400/J_M+on+train.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided that since it was now 2:45 pm we would just ride it for a few stops and then get off and ride the next train back to the city. The internet schedule said that it would be about a 15 minute wait between trains. WRONG!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB83-af_sEI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/XQzddRjIbUI/s1600-h/IMG_8533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196934040413777986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB83-af_sEI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/XQzddRjIbUI/s400/IMG_8533.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got off in Farminigton - - where there is NOTHING except for the train station and a parking lot and then had to wait for 30 minutes for the next train. The nice man at the train station said that the trains were not quite running on schedule since this was their first few days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196948282525331634" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB9E7af_sLI/AAAAAAAAANI/vHo6gEYiQ3M/s400/tasmanian+devil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Have you ever tried to entertain two Tasmanian devils at a deserted train station - OUTSIDE for 30 minutes?!? This is a character builder, let me tell you!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finally got back on the southbound train and were able to find seats on the top deck - much cooler than on the lower level. This kind of made up for the wait, but it would have been better if they were serving Diet Dr. Pepper on the rocks - - I was needing one pretty bad about then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB9CwKf_sKI/AAAAAAAAANA/9kHSOZtLS0s/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196945890228547746" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB9CwKf_sKI/AAAAAAAAANA/9kHSOZtLS0s/s400/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back to the main SLC station we then had another 35 minute ride on Trax to get back to our car. The good part of this is that both kids slept all the way home on the train &lt;em&gt;(using me for a pillow of course)&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB9J3Kf_sMI/AAAAAAAAANQ/oGHn5jXTC-o/s1600-h/tired+mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196953707069026498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB9J3Kf_sMI/AAAAAAAAANQ/oGHn5jXTC-o/s400/tired+mom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I dropped my mom off at 4:45 pm. I definately think that she got more than she bargained for on this adventure! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, both of my kids have talked non-stop about riding the train and Jack asked the very next day if we could go again that day. I said - - "Um, no, but maybe when I have recovered fully we can ride Trax and have lunch w/ Dad." That seemed to pacify him - for now. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB85c6f_sGI/AAAAAAAAAMg/OCmbk7KtKOU/s1600-h/IMG_8534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196935663911415906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB85c6f_sGI/AAAAAAAAAMg/OCmbk7KtKOU/s400/IMG_8534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-1129326007854164619?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/1129326007854164619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=1129326007854164619' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1129326007854164619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1129326007854164619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/05/train-ride.html' title='Train Ride'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB88HKf_sII/AAAAAAAAAMw/U30vH90BL-Q/s72-c/JBH+_+kids+Trax.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-6653816613614305173</id><published>2008-05-05T09:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T10:08:05.718-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><title type='text'>Senior Prom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8mCqf_r4I/AAAAAAAAAKw/RfliA8gMwjM/s1600-h/Matt+Prom+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196914322218921858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8mCqf_r4I/AAAAAAAAAKw/RfliA8gMwjM/s400/Matt+Prom+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A few weeks ago both Jade and Matt went to their Senior Prom. Here are a few pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Matt and his date. Mark wondered about the cane and asked him if he was hurt and had trouble walking! Jade assured us that canes and hats were "cool".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is Matt's group - it was a big one. They had their prom at the Hale Center Theater in West Valley. They had a great time! &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8m-qf_r5I/AAAAAAAAAK4/Zhoc52ZiQkM/s1600-h/Matt+Prom+Group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196915353011072914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8m-qf_r5I/AAAAAAAAAK4/Zhoc52ZiQkM/s400/Matt+Prom+Group.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Matt is on the far left side, back row)&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some pictures of Jade and her date, Willy. I have more pics of Jade because she is used to me tagging along to EVERYTHING. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8oi6f_r7I/AAAAAAAAALI/hkcf8LUBjLk/s1600-h/jade_willy+full.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196917075292958642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8oi6f_r7I/AAAAAAAAALI/hkcf8LUBjLk/s400/jade_willy+full.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Willy picking her up at the house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196916220594466722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8nxKf_r6I/AAAAAAAAALA/PlZEgODo63M/s400/jade+_+willy+close.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then they went to the high school to meet up with their group and have their pictures taken. This is where they also met the limo. We waited in the parking lot for them to come out for a while &lt;em&gt;(OK , really about 5 minutes)&lt;/em&gt; and then I decided that we could wait inside and see them get their pictures taken just as easily as we could wait in the parking lot. &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8rvKf_r_I/AAAAAAAAALo/0iS2DZ1z0SU/s1600-h/lining+up+for+pics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196920584281239538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8rvKf_r_I/AAAAAAAAALo/0iS2DZ1z0SU/s400/lining+up+for+pics.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, we went inside and people watched while we waited. This is a "taget rich environment" if you're into people watching! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When they lined up to get their group picture taken I quickly took some pictures of my own. I had to be sneaky since I didn't think the REAL photo people would appreciate me in their territory! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here they are in front of the the limo&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196918106085109698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8pe6f_r8I/AAAAAAAAALQ/FBYlz_j_AZM/s400/limo+group+2+close.jpg" border="0" /&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They went to dinner in SLC and their prom was at the Gateway. I introduced myself to the limo driver and he assured me that he would take good care of them. I was glad that they weren't driving themselves since there was a Jazz playoff game, a Led Zeplin concert and three other proms in downtown that night! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are Jade &amp;amp; Willy getting into the limo - I'm not sure if Jade is more excited to get into the limo or to finally be rid of me!! &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8ruqf_r-I/AAAAAAAAALg/JptqZ4LCbrI/s1600-h/IMG_8513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196920575691304930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8ruqf_r-I/AAAAAAAAALg/JptqZ4LCbrI/s400/IMG_8513.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-6653816613614305173?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/6653816613614305173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=6653816613614305173' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6653816613614305173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/6653816613614305173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/05/senior-prom.html' title='Senior Prom'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SB8mCqf_r4I/AAAAAAAAAKw/RfliA8gMwjM/s72-c/Matt+Prom+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-8639319895144058434</id><published>2008-04-16T19:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T21:47:00.446-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thelma and Louise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowgirl Cadillac'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texas'/><title type='text'>Thelma and Louise</title><content type='html'>During the Summer of 2006 we bought a Suburban. This was before gas was $4.00 a gallon and when I still had two other kids at home - both are graduating this year. We found a heck of a deal on eBay and decided that it was too good to pass up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, how to get the vehicle from Houston, TX to Utah?!? Well, we could pay to have it transported, but that would take about 2 weeks. So after talking it over and weighing all the options, we decided that I would fly down and drive it back. Of course Mark wouldn’t let me go by myself &lt;em&gt;(even if I was packing heat!).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190054894326257474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbHbaUYF0I/AAAAAAAAAKo/Rir-W9X9jJ4/s400/IMG_6945.JPG" border="0" /&gt;So I talked my sister Norma, who is 15 months younger than me, to accompany me on this fine adventure. We could see a part of the country that neither of us had seen before, find out just how much cargo that Suburban could hold as we shopped our way back home and most importantly we would be going WITHOUT KIDS!! Yahooo!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The adventure started when we got to Houston and my sister asked me if I needed to change my money to Texas Money in the airport. I still laugh at that joke. We were then met by some runner boy from the car dealership in the Suburban that I was about to buy. As he was driving us to the dealership we were quizzing him all about the un-manned toll booths for all of the different parkways. He had a little clicker thing that automatically let us through. I’m sure he thought we were TOTAL hicks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbCRKUYFtI/AAAAAAAAAJw/UX63Oho0NLU/s1600-h/engine+check.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190049220674459346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbCRKUYFtI/AAAAAAAAAJw/UX63Oho0NLU/s400/engine+check.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After we got to the dealership, we took the Burb out for a spin - - just Norma and I. We pulled over in the parking lot of the local doughnut shop - - what place could be safer?! And started checking things out. &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbDJaUYFuI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/LtWzR9xCA3w/s1600-h/checking+out+the+back.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190050187042100962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbDJaUYFuI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/LtWzR9xCA3w/s400/checking+out+the+back.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbD2aUYFvI/AAAAAAAAAKA/mvfBkZcp9-Q/s1600-h/Kickin+the+Tire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190050960136214258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbD2aUYFvI/AAAAAAAAAKA/mvfBkZcp9-Q/s400/Kickin+the+Tire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see I gave it a thorough once over while Norma documented the occasion. She also took pics with my cell phone that I sent back to Mark. His response was “Just WHAT exactly are you looking for?” I didn’t really know, but thought I should look anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we drove from Houston to the Dallas area and spent the night in Ft. Worth. It worked great - Norma is an excellent navigator and I did exactly what she told me to. As we were driving we were talking about how we were kind of like Thelma and Louise since we had run a few toll booths by being in the wrong lane &lt;em&gt;(the one you drive in if you have a clicker thing&lt;/em&gt;). Oh, yeah, we were two wild and krazy gals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning when we got up we decided to take some wacky pictures of us jumping on the bed. I’m not sure why we decided to jump on the bed, probably because that is something that is FORBIDDEN. &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbFIaUYFwI/AAAAAAAAAKI/B3oqagpQeHI/s1600-h/crazy+texan+jbh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190052368885487362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbFIaUYFwI/AAAAAAAAAKI/B3oqagpQeHI/s400/crazy+texan+jbh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were laughing pretty good over that one when one of us thought it would be SUPER funny if we were to get the gun and take a picture with it! Now, for those of you who are NOT rednecks, let me explain a few things: &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190052377475421970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbFI6UYFxI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/NIsy3qDDAiE/s400/crazy+texan+nap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) My Dad made sure that all six of us girls knew how to shoot a gun and handle one. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(2) I have practiced w/ the 9mm that we took and felt pretty confident with the loading / unloading and shooting process. &lt;em&gt;(Woe be unto the poor sucker that crosses me!)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(3) I always take a gun when I am traveling alone, especially if it is just me and the kids &lt;em&gt;(which I have done quite a bit). &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(4) This is probably the most important one and there are two parts - - we were on the TOP floor of the motel and the gun did NOT have a clip in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing all that doesn’t it just make these pictures hilarious?!? Two middle aged housewives trying to be all wild and crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbGaqUYFyI/AAAAAAAAAKY/arVNnPBsP74/s1600-h/big+cow+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190053781929727778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbGaqUYFyI/AAAAAAAAAKY/arVNnPBsP74/s400/big+cow+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We did take the token picture with the REALLY big longhorn too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was two days of really long driving, but we had a great time together and wished that all the sisters could have come with us. Heaven knows I had room for them all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home Jack nicknamed the Burb the “Cowgirl Cadillac” and the name just stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now that Jade &amp;amp; Matt are graduating and gas is climbing to around $4.00 per gallon, that makes the Cowgirl Cadillac somewhat impractical. I loved driving it. Loading a sister or two and their kids in and taking a mini road trip to see another sister or take our kids on a field trip. One time we had all of my sisters and my Mom and had a really fun girls day at Swiss Days in Midway. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbGa6UYFzI/AAAAAAAAAKg/LP8p5ELKn7o/s1600-h/JBH+Close+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190053786224695090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbGa6UYFzI/AAAAAAAAAKg/LP8p5ELKn7o/s400/JBH+Close+up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If gas didn't cost so dang much, I probably would have held onto it for a good long time. But, all things must come to and end and last week we sold it. I hope that the Cowgirl Cadillac has as many fun adventures with her new family as we did! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-8639319895144058434?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/8639319895144058434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=8639319895144058434' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8639319895144058434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/8639319895144058434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/04/thelma-and-louise.html' title='Thelma and Louise'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SAbHbaUYF0I/AAAAAAAAAKo/Rir-W9X9jJ4/s72-c/IMG_6945.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-4300061813170244618</id><published>2008-04-09T17:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T17:16:05.078-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Breakfast Casserole'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheerleaders'/><title type='text'>Recipes for Breakfast</title><content type='html'>Today I am posting the recipes that I made for the Cheer initiation breakfast.  I hadn't really thought about it until my sister was so kind as to warn me that I might be getting HATE blog comments from the foodies out there.  I don't have any pictures of the finished product since I didn't think to take any that morning - I guess I was feeling pretty good to just be up and awake at 6:00 AM!  I usually make this for Christmas morning breakfast or on some other "special" occasion.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;French Toast Bake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 slices good bread, cubed (I use Granny’s B’s - it works the best; I also cut off the top crust)&lt;br /&gt;1 pkg. cream cheese (8 oz)&lt;br /&gt;8 eggs&lt;br /&gt;1 c. milk&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. real maple syrup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrange half of the bread cubes in a greased 9x13 baking dish. Top with cream cheese and remaining bread. In a bowl, whisk eggs, milk &amp;amp; syrup; pour over bread. Cover and refrigerate overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remove from refrigerator 30 minutes before baking. Cover and bake at 350 for 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncover; bake 20-25 minutes longer or until golden brown. Serve with Homemade Syrup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homemade Syrup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 c. sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. light corn syrup&lt;br /&gt;1/4 c. water&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. cream (I use heavy cream)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a small sauce pan mix all ingredients except cream. While stirring constantly boil mixture for 2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in cream. Cool. Syrup will thicken as it cools. Serve slightly warmed.&lt;br /&gt;Will keep in refrigerator for several months. Makes 1 1/3 c. syrup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holiday Breakfast Casserole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a greased 9x13 pan spread two 12 oz packages of cubed hashbrown potatoes. Brush with 1 cube melted butter and sprinkle with Lawrey’s Season Salt. Bake @ 425 for 25 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Remove from oven and add:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 lb. diced ham&lt;br /&gt;2 c. grated Cheddar Jack cheese (I never measure, just sprinkle on to taste)&lt;br /&gt;1/2 oz. Diced green chilies (I omit)&lt;br /&gt;Combine the following and place on top of the ham/cheese/potato mix:&lt;br /&gt;4 eggs&lt;br /&gt;1 C. Milk&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp. Salt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bake @ 350 for 30-35 minutes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-4300061813170244618?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/4300061813170244618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=4300061813170244618' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4300061813170244618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/4300061813170244618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/04/recipes-for-breakfast.html' title='Recipes for Breakfast'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2344417431778296680</id><published>2008-04-05T16:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T17:22:45.863-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheerleaders'/><title type='text'>Kidnaped!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gEqznY7iI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2T7rBn05iWI/s1600-h/cheer+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185900104373562914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gEqznY7iI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2T7rBn05iWI/s400/cheer+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This past week there was a mass kidnaping in our town! There were a total of 27 girls taken from their beds in the wee hours of the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it’s not quite what you might think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Jade is a Senior, she and the other senior girls are responsible for the initiation of the new cheerleaders. &lt;em&gt;(Nothing mean, just something fun, so they can all meet each other)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each senior was responsible for picking up 3-4 other girls. They called the girl's parents beforehand so that there would be no nasty surprises when the they showed up at 5:15 in the morning to get them out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All went as planned and they arrived at my house at 6:15 am for breakfast. &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gGUDnY7nI/AAAAAAAAAJo/R06TCvAXhQ8/s1600-h/cheer+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185901912554794610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gGUDnY7nI/AAAAAAAAAJo/R06TCvAXhQ8/s400/cheer+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Jade first asked if they could have breakfast at our house, I said "Sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, maybe you are thinking that I should have been thinking ahead and asked a few more questions when she first brought it up - - I was sure kicking myself for not asking! &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gFbTnY7lI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2LjjHYH6SKk/s1600-h/jade+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185900937597218386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gFbTnY7lI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2LjjHYH6SKk/s400/jade+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is how our conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Jade: "Mom, remember when you said I could have the cheer initiation breakfast at our house?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Me: "ummm hmmm" &lt;em&gt;Did I mention that it is 9:45 pm and I am lying in bed almost asleep?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;!?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Jade: "Well how about Thursday, as in this Thursday?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;(a little more awake now)&lt;/em&gt; "Uhh, sure. What time do you think you will be here?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Jade: "Well, no later than 6:15, cause we have to get them to school after that and make sure they can’t go home and fix their hair, etc."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Me: "6:15 in the MORNING?! OK. How many people are we talking about here?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Jade: "Well, with all of the new girls and the outgoing seniors there will be 33 people."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;(thinking to myself. . . What the FIRE! You should ask MORE questions EARLIER!)&lt;/em&gt; Now out loud to Jade: "OK, I think I can do that." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After all that, it actually went pretty good. I made four breakfast casseroles and bought lots of juice and milk. I got up at 4:30 that morning to start baking and it was ready to go when they arrived - nothing short of a small miracle! &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gE-jnY7jI/AAAAAAAAAJI/YalyDe6bdic/s1600-h/cheer+eating+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185900443675979314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gE-jnY7jI/AAAAAAAAAJI/YalyDe6bdic/s400/cheer+eating+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you have ever been to my house you know that I don’t really &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; space to seat 33 people, so the consequence was that we had girls, girls everywhere! &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gFrDnY7mI/AAAAAAAAAJg/Srt3zd4Oe1M/s1600-h/leftovers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185901208180158050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gFrDnY7mI/AAAAAAAAAJg/Srt3zd4Oe1M/s400/leftovers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Despite the lack of space and the early hour, they all had a good time and ate almost every morsel I put out for them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;At 7:10 am the all got into their cars and went to school. Here's what was left.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2344417431778296680?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2344417431778296680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2344417431778296680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2344417431778296680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2344417431778296680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/04/kidnaped.html' title='Kidnaped!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R_gEqznY7iI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2T7rBn05iWI/s72-c/cheer+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-1536858584836318729</id><published>2008-03-27T16:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T16:56:34.123-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Sunday Best</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wlaDnY7hI/AAAAAAAAAI4/oXuD7rkcdsc/s1600-h/Easter+Sunday+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182558400773942802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wlaDnY7hI/AAAAAAAAAI4/oXuD7rkcdsc/s320/Easter+Sunday+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I thought I would share with you a few pictures of Jack and Madeline in their Easter Sunday Best. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here they are on our front porch. Notice the light saber in Jack's hand that the Easter Bunny brought to him. He was amazed when he saw it and said to Mark "How did the Easter Bunny &lt;em&gt;KNOW&lt;/em&gt;? The rabbit at the mall was just a guy in a suit - - I saw his face in the costume! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wjgznY7fI/AAAAAAAAAIo/jWvCuO4BB-A/s1600-h/Easter+Sunday+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182556317714804210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wjgznY7fI/AAAAAAAAAIo/jWvCuO4BB-A/s320/Easter+Sunday+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now here they are doing the Chicken Dance. Mark's Mom sent us an Easter card that played the Chicken Dance song when you opened it. Madeline claimed it for her own and would periodically stop whatever she was doing, open the card and start dancing to the music. You just can't buy better entertainment than that! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wjtDnY7gI/AAAAAAAAAIw/NupIVS8Xows/s1600-h/Jeep+ride+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182556528168201730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wjtDnY7gI/AAAAAAAAAIw/NupIVS8Xows/s320/Jeep+ride+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is a close-up of them in Jack's electric jeep. Notice Madeline's face - she fell down in the parking lot while at the bike store with her Dad the previous day. Make's her look so feminine doesn't it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-1536858584836318729?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/1536858584836318729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=1536858584836318729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1536858584836318729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1536858584836318729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter-sunday-best.html' title='Easter Sunday Best'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-wlaDnY7hI/AAAAAAAAAI4/oXuD7rkcdsc/s72-c/Easter+Sunday+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-7983621106101911749</id><published>2008-03-24T16:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T18:14:02.757-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Easter'/><title type='text'>The Hunt is On!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-g2LznY7XI/AAAAAAAAAHo/IscEFV6jBe8/s1600-h/JBH+_+Madeline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181450947751636338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-g2LznY7XI/AAAAAAAAAHo/IscEFV6jBe8/s320/JBH+_+Madeline.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Every year our family holds an annual Easter Egg Hunt. This year, despite the cold weather, we had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First we have lunch - so that everyone has the strength for the hunt. Then it is my Dad's job to keep the kids all inside while we adults hide all of the goodies outside. The waiting is UNBEARABLE for the kids, they all crowd around the door, hoping to be the first ones out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When my Dad gets the "all clear" signal, he opens the door &lt;em&gt;(at his own peril!) &lt;/em&gt;and the race is on!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181459331527798178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-g9zznY7aI/AAAAAAAAAIA/WAbednWLrZE/s320/Go+baby+go.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, the younger ones need some "help", which is why my sister Hollie is racing out the door behind her youngest son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181460237765897650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-g-ojnY7bI/AAAAAAAAAII/akCWxkhSeVU/s320/every+man+for+himself.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, we have my sweet husband who is on the prowl with Madeline for some good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181449517527526754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-g04jnY7WI/AAAAAAAAAHg/hvXRHVLOS88/s320/Victory.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;YES! Victory! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181836747483966930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-mVETnY7dI/AAAAAAAAAIY/0Jk0GAUbKpM/s320/MRH+_+Madeline+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-7983621106101911749?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/7983621106101911749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=7983621106101911749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7983621106101911749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/7983621106101911749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/03/hunt-is-on.html' title='The Hunt is On!!'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-g2LznY7XI/AAAAAAAAAHo/IscEFV6jBe8/s72-c/JBH+_+Madeline.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-3083139089973720907</id><published>2008-03-18T15:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T15:51:56.906-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buzz lightyear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='super hero'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spiderman'/><title type='text'>Super Hero</title><content type='html'>My son Jack is 4 and LOVES to dress up as Spiderman &lt;em&gt;(either black or red)&lt;/em&gt; or Buzz Lightyear or Batman. Today when he got home from pre-school, he promptly changed out of his "normal" clothes and into Black Spiderman, along with a pair of cowboy boots to complete the outfit. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night as he was getting ready for bed I noticed something sticking out from under his PJ's and asked him what it was. Here is what he showed me. . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179198681454484530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A1wp1EHDI/AAAAAAAAAFI/mVMDQwb7i2s/s320/spiderman.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Then last week as he was getting ready for church he asked for a hanger to hang up his Buzz Lightyear costume. I asked if he wanted any help and he said "No, I can do it". Later when I went in to see if he was dressed this is what I found. . . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Notice the Buzz Lightyear toy sticking up in the neck of his costume and the pant legs tucked into the cowboy boots!! Hysterical!! &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A4Ip1EHFI/AAAAAAAAAFY/AwUXTNLI3cQ/s1600-h/Jack+%2B+Buzz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179201292794600530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A4Ip1EHFI/AAAAAAAAAFY/AwUXTNLI3cQ/s320/Jack+%2B+Buzz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yep, he's my Super Hero!! &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A4Z51EHGI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ONGuTJd59Ig/s1600-h/the+costume.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179201589147343970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A4Z51EHGI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ONGuTJd59Ig/s320/the+costume.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A4Z51EHGI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ONGuTJd59Ig/s1600-h/the+costume.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-3083139089973720907?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/3083139089973720907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=3083139089973720907' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3083139089973720907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/3083139089973720907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/03/super-hero.html' title='Super Hero'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R-A1wp1EHDI/AAAAAAAAAFI/mVMDQwb7i2s/s72-c/spiderman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2279308021409679923</id><published>2008-03-11T16:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T17:41:27.536-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spiderman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheerleaders'/><title type='text'>The End of an Era. . . .</title><content type='html'>My daughter Jade is a Senior in High school. For the past 4 years she has been a cheerleader. Now, before you roll your eyes and click onto something more interesting- like the Utah County Jail website, hear me out. &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cTsJ1EG8I/AAAAAAAAAEU/M4DUfTW7_y0/s1600-h/Jade+Cheer+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176627945959332802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cTsJ1EG8I/AAAAAAAAAEU/M4DUfTW7_y0/s200/Jade+Cheer+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I consider myself very lucky that she has had the opportunity to associate with such quality young women. You see, they have all been together since 9th grade - cheering. This has allowed me to make some great friends with the other "Cheer Moms" as we sat in the stands each game to watch our daughters cheer on their team, coordinate rides to&lt;em&gt; all&lt;/em&gt; those practices, make fun plans for picking them up from cheer camp and then discuss who was doing what after the game so that none of them could get away with anything!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There as been a fair share of &lt;em&gt;DRAMA&lt;/em&gt; to be sure, but it was nothing that they couldn't get over and be able to move on. For the most part all of the girls that are Seniors are &lt;em&gt;really good&lt;/em&gt; girls - no partying, nice to others, respectful, good students, etc. This has made me want to encourage Jade to keep trying out each year, even though the cost is CRAZY expensive! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week we went to the final End of Year Parents Banquet for all the cheerleaders. It was a bittersweet occasion for me. You see, this past football season my Friday nights consisted of finding a babysitter for the two little ones &lt;em&gt;(have you ever tried to keep a 3 year old and 1 year old contained while on bleachers?!)&lt;/em&gt;. Then I would go to Jade's game and Mark would go to Matt's game. Matt goes to a different school and played football for their team. It was definitely a "divide and conquer" effort on our part. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we were sitting at the banquet, I thought about how this was the last time I would be here and started thinking back to some of the highs and lows of the past four years. There have definitely been more highs than lows. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Humor me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was the time that Jade was playing around before a game and did a standing back tuck on the field and landed on her head! For the ENTIRE game she kept asking me "What happened?" I would tell her and then five minutes later she would ask "Why am I not cheering out there? What happened?" It drove me crazy!! It was like watching the game with Dori from Finding Nemo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before each home game, the Cheer Moms each took turns hosting a dinner before the game for all the girls. Man, can those girls eat!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cVcJ1EG-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/zVkjUPSoKUA/s1600-h/IMG_7858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176629870104681442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cVcJ1EG-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/zVkjUPSoKUA/s200/IMG_7858.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176630312486312962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cV151EHAI/AAAAAAAAAEw/nHdfFQ1zWnw/s200/IMG_7859.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During football season the girls all had a box to stand on so that they were more visible to the crowd and could see over the football players on the sideline and tell what was going on. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176628371161095122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cUE51EG9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/1KoPaBGYktU/s200/IMG_7864.JPG" border="0" /&gt;For the first few games Jade didn't know the parameters of her box and so we would make bets as to how long it would take before she fell off her box!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the last basketball game of this year they had a Senior Recognition Night for all the cheerleaders. They were supposed to be escorted out onto the court with their parents to receive a small gift and be recognized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cTV51EG7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/PqhAsckzCng/s1600-h/Jade+_Jack+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176627563707243442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cTV51EG7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/PqhAsckzCng/s200/Jade+_Jack+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a terrible snow storm that night and it took Mark 4 hours to get home from downtown SLC! So, instead of having me &lt;em&gt;(and Jack and Madeline)&lt;/em&gt; escort her, Jade asked Jack to be her escort. He was only too happy to do it. The funny part about this is that he was dressed in a "Black Spiderman" costume with the full muscle look! I am sorry to say that I don't have a picture of this, but just know that Jack is "Spiderman" more than he is Jack some weeks! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't bore you with more stories, however I believe that if you have the opportunity for your children to be involved in extra curricular activities, it can be the best thing in the world for them and you - regardless of the cost! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2279308021409679923?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2279308021409679923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2279308021409679923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2279308021409679923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2279308021409679923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/03/end-of-era.html' title='The End of an Era. . . .'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9cTsJ1EG8I/AAAAAAAAAEU/M4DUfTW7_y0/s72-c/Jade+Cheer+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-2786105078660703945</id><published>2008-03-09T19:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T21:03:11.655-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dish Gloves'/><title type='text'>Dish Duty</title><content type='html'>I am the type of person who doesn't mind doing dirty work, I just don't like getting my &lt;em&gt;hands&lt;/em&gt; dirty. So I have several pair of rubber gloves around my house that I use for dishes, cleaning bathrooms, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack loves the dish gloves. He calls them "Super Gloves" (from The Incredibles movie) and is always asking if he can borrow them. He doesn't discriminate between the pink ones or the yellow ones - just whatever is handy. This is very disturbing to Mark, especially when he wears the pink ones. He always tries to get Jack to switch to the yellow, but for whatever reason, if he started with the pink, he sticks with the pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9Sia51EGrI/AAAAAAAAACM/gIQ-Hme1c2I/s1600-h/MRH+Dish+Gloves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175940454839229106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9Sia51EGrI/AAAAAAAAACM/gIQ-Hme1c2I/s320/MRH+Dish+Gloves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I walked into the kitchen and much to my surprise there was my HUSBAND wearing the dish gloves &lt;em&gt;(the pink ones no less!)&lt;/em&gt; and scrubbing away on the burner grate for our gas stove! This is one of my most hated chores and I was thrilled! However, since he always gives me a hard time about the gloves, I did what any appreciative wife would do - - get photographic proof of this momentous occasion! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he was done with the stove, Jack decided that he needed to do some dishes too. I'm not really sure how clean the dishes turned out, but I figured why discourage free help? By the time he can really do a good job he will have no interest anyway!&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9SjWZ1EGuI/AAAAAAAAACk/rvL8Io6e2lA/s1600-h/Jack+Dish+Gloves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175941477041445602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9SjWZ1EGuI/AAAAAAAAACk/rvL8Io6e2lA/s320/Jack+Dish+Gloves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-2786105078660703945?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/2786105078660703945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=2786105078660703945' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2786105078660703945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/2786105078660703945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/03/dish-duty.html' title='Dish Duty'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9Sia51EGrI/AAAAAAAAACM/gIQ-Hme1c2I/s72-c/MRH+Dish+Gloves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3375583777122369560.post-1377964402311179301</id><published>2008-03-08T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:40:06.851-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not a Nurse, but I play one at home</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A week ago Thursday I was sewing Madeline's quilt for her "big girl" bed and had be&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9NIm51EGbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/f0-7umyZptQ/s1600-h/IMG_8389.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175560229974448562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9NIm51EGbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/f0-7umyZptQ/s320/IMG_8389.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;en using the iron to press seams, etc. When I was done, I put the iron on the counter in the laundry room and pushed it back to cool. Now, you must know that Madeline is my mischevious one and also very quick! While I had my back to her she grabbed the stool out of the pantry and carried it into the Laundry Room to investigate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;When she saw that big shiny iron she just couldn't resist &lt;em&gt;(Hey look! Somethin' Shiny!!)&lt;/em&gt; and she touched the iron severely burning her left hand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;After a call to Grandma &lt;em&gt;(who also happens to be the nurse for our Pediatrician)&lt;/em&gt; I tried all of the suggestions that she gave: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1- Put it in cold water, have her hold an ice cube - she refused. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2- Put some Silvadine Cream on it and wrap it up - this seemed to upset her even more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3- Give her some Motrin for the pain - I ended up wearing most of it as she REFUSED to take it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Well, after two hours of Madeline crying and my nerves frazzled, I decided a visit to the InstaCare was in order, as it was too late to go to the doctor. When we got to the InstaCare she immediately calmed down and fell asleep in my arms. When we saw the doctor, she let him look at it and put medicine on it and wrap it up. When the nurse came in with the Motrin, she took it just like it was candy!! AGGHHH, she made a liar out of me! &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9NInp1EGcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/iP2GsvTtrcs/s1600-h/IMG_8400.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175560242859350466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9NInp1EGcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/iP2GsvTtrcs/s320/IMG_8400.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Now we have to keep it wrapped up until it heals. Every night after her bath I cut the old bandage off and put on a fresh one. I think that for the most part she just likes having the pink wrap on. She likes to show it to anyone who will look and say "Look at my &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9NIoJ1EGdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JXG8NRdUeMU/s1600-h/IMG_8384.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pink!" I don't know what I will do when she doesn't actually have to wear the bandage anymore! &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9XGh51EGxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/zDWr2nvn-Vw/s1600-h/Madeline+Hand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176261632493624082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9XGh51EGxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/zDWr2nvn-Vw/s320/Madeline+Hand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3375583777122369560-1377964402311179301?l=queenredhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/feeds/1377964402311179301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3375583777122369560&amp;postID=1377964402311179301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1377964402311179301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3375583777122369560/posts/default/1377964402311179301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queenredhen.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-not-nurse-but-i-play-one-at-home.html' title='I&apos;m not a Nurse, but I play one at home'/><author><name>The Red Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14363493842871024557</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/SPvGQUi3vrI/AAAAAAAAAe8/yJXOft0jAEc/S220/JBH+Head+Shot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zw7vH_9lh3A/R9NIm51EGbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/f0-7umyZptQ/s72-c/IMG_8389.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
