<?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-7389356</id><updated>2011-12-31T21:00:49.853-05:00</updated><category term='spider long weekends'/><category term='Sofi Yuki'/><category term='Family photos'/><category term='Sarah&apos;s room.spiders'/><category term='Power of One Challenge'/><title type='text'>The Queen Is In</title><subtitle type='html'>Occasional Ramblings</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>169</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2111782854709579629</id><published>2011-12-31T21:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T21:00:49.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;2011 is coming to a screeching halt.&amp;nbsp; And it hasn't been a bad year.&amp;nbsp; No surgeries this year.&amp;nbsp; No major home repairs.&amp;nbsp; I got promoted and a great raise.&amp;nbsp; I found a liquid&lt;/span&gt; Vitamin B that has been a miracle for my memory.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, 2011 is ending.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Joe and I have resolved to make 2012 the year of physical and financial&amp;nbsp; health.&amp;nbsp; It's going to be hard, and it's going to take lots of work and prayer.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's do it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2111782854709579629?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2111782854709579629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2111782854709579629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2111782854709579629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2111782854709579629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2011/12/2011-is-coming-to-screeching-halt.html' title=''/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7994512599458854568</id><published>2011-10-07T17:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T17:23:58.942-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRa1ADJGOhU/To9sbEqZKeI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hFm6J3lOTx8/s1600/IMG_1000000348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Joe and his mom&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRa1ADJGOhU/To9sbEqZKeI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hFm6J3lOTx8/s320/IMG_1000000348.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uMW-CvKOHzI/To9sbp-8InI/AAAAAAAAAHE/n1o03UDXZrA/s1600/IMG_1000000380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Lily, Eric, Sarah &amp;amp; Maple&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uMW-CvKOHzI/To9sbp-8InI/AAAAAAAAAHE/n1o03UDXZrA/s320/IMG_1000000380.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cumWH7vGFzc/To9sb5e8OMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3kUoNUCaFf0/s1600/IMG_1000000388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Lily's 2nd birthday.&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cumWH7vGFzc/To9sb5e8OMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3kUoNUCaFf0/s320/IMG_1000000388.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ISWt6nuO24w/To9scfJMe1I/AAAAAAAAAHM/8FQYuSqB9VU/s1600/IMG_1000000421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Maple 5 months&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ISWt6nuO24w/To9scfJMe1I/AAAAAAAAAHM/8FQYuSqB9VU/s320/IMG_1000000421.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ULYSA5Omp-A/To9scqvjCyI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/PJno_NUq5OM/s1600/IMG_1000000426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Lena and Yuki, Sept, 2011&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ULYSA5Omp-A/To9scqvjCyI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/PJno_NUq5OM/s320/IMG_1000000426.JPG" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--b9WWrCUjg4/To9sc9C1OtI/AAAAAAAAAHU/ymS3OpZ95wc/s1600/IMG_1000000462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Serious Lily Sept 2011&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--b9WWrCUjg4/To9sc9C1OtI/AAAAAAAAAHU/ymS3OpZ95wc/s320/IMG_1000000462.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WY_PFnUXpXE/To9sdD8MD7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/12aoYgQ_R8g/s1600/IMG_1000000464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Maple Sept 2011&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WY_PFnUXpXE/To9sdD8MD7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/12aoYgQ_R8g/s320/IMG_1000000464.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bY8p3eTEfNo/To9sdr9VZKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/VngNV2K1_Ro/s1600/IMG_1000000516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Sofi Sept 2011 - Alone time with Grandma!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bY8p3eTEfNo/To9sdr9VZKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/VngNV2K1_Ro/s320/IMG_1000000516.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bU3EuM94kQU/To9sdxaDKmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/zIqfgFsveuA/s1600/IMG_1000000525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;Ella's 4th Birthday!&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bU3EuM94kQU/To9sdxaDKmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/zIqfgFsveuA/s320/IMG_1000000525.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7994512599458854568?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7994512599458854568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7994512599458854568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7994512599458854568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7994512599458854568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2011/10/joe-and-his-mom-lily-eric-sarah-maple.html' title=''/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRa1ADJGOhU/To9sbEqZKeI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hFm6J3lOTx8/s72-c/IMG_1000000348.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1377527908006031888</id><published>2011-10-07T16:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T16:53:37.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LeW5LxGGgjw/To8ZE9gta7I/AAAAAAAAAGs/82f1zPeCVuQ/s1600/IMG_1000000541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LeW5LxGGgjw/To8ZE9gta7I/AAAAAAAAAGs/82f1zPeCVuQ/s320/IMG_1000000541.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Once upon a time there was a pumpkin.&amp;nbsp; The pumpkin was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FrJk-NA33Mc/To8ZVJfLqPI/AAAAAAAAAGw/r1FkQ4D5RSs/s1600/IMG_1000000535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FrJk-NA33Mc/To8ZVJfLqPI/AAAAAAAAAGw/r1FkQ4D5RSs/s320/IMG_1000000535.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The pumpkin was steamed and peeled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gbNDDNf82A/To9lVEdqwjI/AAAAAAAAAG0/P4gDEpW4Yn8/s1600/IMG_1000000533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gbNDDNf82A/To9lVEdqwjI/AAAAAAAAAG0/P4gDEpW4Yn8/s320/IMG_1000000533.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The pumpkin seeds were separated and prepared for roasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xojxlT4vfg/To9lsYMP6YI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Mbce-oXf7bo/s1600/IMG_1000000536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xojxlT4vfg/To9lsYMP6YI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Mbce-oXf7bo/s320/IMG_1000000536.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The flesh was pressed through the ricer.&amp;nbsp; Twice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ATGFQFlsXFY/To9mAjbnVjI/AAAAAAAAAG8/NTBjcRnHIhA/s1600/IMG_1000000539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ATGFQFlsXFY/To9mAjbnVjI/AAAAAAAAAG8/NTBjcRnHIhA/s320/IMG_1000000539.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Now, the the beautiful pumpkin has been transformed and is ready to make into a wonderful pumpkin dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1377527908006031888?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1377527908006031888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1377527908006031888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1377527908006031888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1377527908006031888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2011/10/once-upon-time-there-was-pumpkin.html' title=''/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LeW5LxGGgjw/To8ZE9gta7I/AAAAAAAAAGs/82f1zPeCVuQ/s72-c/IMG_1000000541.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4911054264847548172</id><published>2011-01-28T14:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T14:03:14.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shiny things</title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;This morning I received a file print to forward on to defense counsel.  All the Transnet stuff was clipped together with this tiny little binder clip.  I’ve never seen one that small.  So I’m taking apart the file print and sorting it into piles to make it easier on the atty’s office.  I can’t bring myself to use the baby clip because I only have one.  And it’s cute.    It’s the same with colored paperclips.  I hate to “waste” them on someone else. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it’s a little hard loving office supplies.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4911054264847548172?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4911054264847548172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4911054264847548172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4911054264847548172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4911054264847548172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2011/01/shiny-things.html' title='Shiny things'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7555376567388215557</id><published>2010-12-29T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T21:33:35.656-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Power of One Challenge'/><title type='text'>Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans</title><content type='html'>Starts TODAY.&amp;nbsp; Not Jan 1, not a Monday, not "just in time for summer".&amp;nbsp; Today.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ready...Set...GO!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ShrinkingJeans/~3/39iCarHEc8o/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7555376567388215557?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7555376567388215557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7555376567388215557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7555376567388215557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7555376567388215557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/12/sisterhood-of-shrinking-jeans.html' title='Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3430559058549799384</id><published>2010-01-30T07:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T19:30:38.369-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Milena Mae joins the family</title><content type='html'>Milena Mae was born last night at 7:50.&amp;nbsp; She weighed 6 lbs 12 oz and was 20" long.&amp;nbsp; Elizabeth elected not to get an epidural this time, and once she hit 6 cm, things started happening pretty quickly.&amp;nbsp; A little too quickly as it turns out, because her doctor did not get there in time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The nurse told Eliz not to push, and she did her very best not to.&amp;nbsp; When the nurse checked her, she told another nurse to call the doctor and tell him to get here NOW.&amp;nbsp; Then, realized another doctor was needed until he got there.&amp;nbsp; Turns out Milena was breech.&amp;nbsp; They were trying to rush to get Eliz into the operating room, but there was just no going there.&amp;nbsp; Milena was coming, and she was coming now.&amp;nbsp; Elizabeth was so brave and she did exactly what the doctor told her to do.&amp;nbsp; The baby was born, and Eliz didn't even tear.&amp;nbsp; The baby's right clavicle was broken, but it seems that will heal easily and should be no problem in the future.&lt;br /&gt;That was probably the hardest thing I have ever witnessed.&amp;nbsp; There were so many people there and the atmosphere was so charged with tension and fear.&amp;nbsp; I was afraid the baby was going to die, and Elizabeth was in such pain...&amp;nbsp; whew.&amp;nbsp; I'm so glad it's over and thank the Lord for watching over everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3430559058549799384?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3430559058549799384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3430559058549799384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3430559058549799384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3430559058549799384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/baby-milena-mae-joins-family.html' title='Baby Milena Mae joins the family'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-8419383282045685954</id><published>2010-01-24T12:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T12:57:29.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; color: #000000'&gt;&lt;P&gt;I made a recipe of buckeyes today.&amp;nbsp; Got the recipe out of the February &lt;EM&gt;Real Simple&lt;/EM&gt; magazine.&amp;nbsp; The nice thing about this recipe is it doesn't make a ton.&amp;nbsp; It made 23 Tablespoon size buckeyes.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yesterday I made chili.&amp;nbsp; There's enough left over for maybe 3 lunches.&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;Sarah called this morning.&amp;nbsp; She had a tick attached to her neck and she pulled it out herself.&amp;nbsp; She thinks she didn't get the head.&amp;nbsp; What a weird time of year for ticks.&amp;nbsp; Hopefully she really did get the tick's head, and if not, Eric can finish getting it out for her.&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;Elizabeth is getting closer to her due date.&amp;nbsp; She goes back to the doctor Friday, but I know she really wants to have the baby NOW.&amp;nbsp; I wonder if labor will be easy for her this time.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-8419383282045685954?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/8419383282045685954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=8419383282045685954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/8419383282045685954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/8419383282045685954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/cookin.html' title='Cookin&apos;'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3825043295932082357</id><published>2010-01-23T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T09:13:22.485-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maizy</title><content type='html'>This is a funny picture of Maizy trying to lie in Butch's old bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/S1sD3k86szI/AAAAAAAAAFo/qvuxiG2AmK0/s1600-h/Maizy+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" mt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/S1sD3k86szI/AAAAAAAAAFo/qvuxiG2AmK0/s400/Maizy+005.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3825043295932082357?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3825043295932082357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3825043295932082357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3825043295932082357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3825043295932082357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/maizy.html' title='Maizy'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/S1sD3k86szI/AAAAAAAAAFo/qvuxiG2AmK0/s72-c/Maizy+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6732194215536137017</id><published>2010-01-23T08:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T08:57:02.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Liliana Moon Josephine Swanson</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/S1r_0GcH1sI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LLzpE1FRZ8Q/s1600-h/phone+pics+028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/S1r_0GcH1sI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LLzpE1FRZ8Q/s320/phone+pics+028.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lily is now 5 1/2 months old.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6732194215536137017?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6732194215536137017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6732194215536137017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6732194215536137017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6732194215536137017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/liliana-moon-josephine-swanson.html' title='Liliana Moon Josephine Swanson'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/S1r_0GcH1sI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LLzpE1FRZ8Q/s72-c/phone+pics+028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-8129369120872639832</id><published>2010-01-23T08:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T08:36:28.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I took the day off from work, so I'm in the middle of a three day weekend!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished 1/2 a grapefruit.&amp;nbsp; I ALWAYS forget how wonderful grapefruit tastes.&amp;nbsp; It's been months since I've had one.&amp;nbsp; I remember Mom getting grapefruits, oranges and apples from the FFA.&amp;nbsp; We would store them in our basement under the stairs.&amp;nbsp; That part of our basement didn't have much light and it was a little bit scary.&amp;nbsp; Not to mention spider-ish.&amp;nbsp; None of us kids wanted to go get any of the fruit because of the spider possibility.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Not to mention the worry about someone (thing) sneaking up on you while bending over under the stairs, terrified already that a spider would drop in your hair.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't swear to it, but I bet mom felt the same way, which is why she sent one of us to go get some fruit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.&amp;nbsp; Saturday, oatmeal, grapefruit.&amp;nbsp; Great start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-8129369120872639832?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/8129369120872639832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=8129369120872639832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/8129369120872639832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/8129369120872639832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/saturday_23.html' title='Saturday!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-8963693443069721450</id><published>2010-01-22T01:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T01:20:59.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Brett</title><content type='html'>Joe and I went to Outback for supper and our waiter was "Brett".&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; When we went, I was in a sad mood.&amp;nbsp; Brett was hysterical.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;When we left, I was&amp;nbsp;much better.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Brett wants to be an actor.&amp;nbsp; He went to LA for 8 months, but, unfortunately, that didn't work out for him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So, now he's&amp;nbsp;trying to determine what to do with his young life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I recommended getting a liberal arts degree and looking into being an insurance adjuster, like me.&amp;nbsp; =)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He didn't seem overly impressed.&amp;nbsp; Hmmmm.&amp;nbsp; Glamorous acting job vs. insurance adjuster.&amp;nbsp; Hey!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Maybe he could be the next "Justin Case" type guy!&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-8963693443069721450?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/8963693443069721450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=8963693443069721450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/8963693443069721450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/8963693443069721450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/funny-brett.html' title='Funny Brett'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7111060244312156936</id><published>2010-01-20T13:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T00:14:48.352-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No vacation....</title><content type='html'>I am so bummed. I was just informed that I may not be able to take my annual week between Christmas and New Years off for vacation. I really hate working that week. Everyone is crazy stressed. &lt;br /&gt;At least I know NOW, and can mentally prepare for 11 more months...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7111060244312156936?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7111060244312156936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7111060244312156936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7111060244312156936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7111060244312156936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/no-vacation.html' title='No vacation....'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2025059814389056929</id><published>2010-01-18T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T19:15:09.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>C25K  One week down</title><content type='html'>So, Maizy and I started out on our third C25k excursion today.&amp;nbsp; I really didn't want to go.&amp;nbsp; It was a struggle to get up off the couch (pun intended), change clothes and walk out the door.&amp;nbsp; It started off well.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; But a little more than 1/2 way through, we saw a lab.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The lab rushed us and that set Maizy off barking and she was really tense.&amp;nbsp; About a block past that we see a guy walking a small dog.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; BARK BARK BARK, pull pull pull.&amp;nbsp; End of that same block, Maizy sees a BIG BLACK dog that was running loose.&amp;nbsp; I didn't see it right away.&amp;nbsp; Maizy pulled, I fell.&amp;nbsp; Luckily I didn't let go of the lead.&amp;nbsp; I pulled her - 100 pounds of her - for an entire block trying to get away from that dog as she braked viciously.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Just as we were at the home stretch, a guy who walks his very calm, very sweet, very large dog came around a corner.&amp;nbsp; We both stopped.&amp;nbsp; I walked into a yard.&amp;nbsp; Just as we were almost past, Maizy whirled and lunged at the dog.&amp;nbsp; I was HORRIFIED.&amp;nbsp; As I was dragging her barking butt down the street, he yelled something but I don't know what he said.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That kind of behavior makes me never want to walk her ever again.&amp;nbsp; Damn dog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2025059814389056929?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2025059814389056929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2025059814389056929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2025059814389056929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2025059814389056929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/c25k-one-week-down.html' title='C25K  One week down'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6695245234059039334</id><published>2010-01-18T15:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T15:27:04.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Christy or is it a Ghost?</title><content type='html'>Lately, people around me think they are hearing things, like their name spoken. They think I'm saying it, and it's not really computing because they don't see me saying their name. That's because I'm NOT saying their name, and I'm also not hearing anyone else say it. It's a bit odd. &lt;br /&gt;Last night was a really good example. We watched what was billed as a horror movie (House of Bones) but was really just a very poorly made mess. After it was over, I went into the bedroom and when I came back out Joe asked me what I wanted. I told him I didn't say anything and he SWORE I said "Joe?" and asked some question. I told him I did not and he didn't believe me at first. Later, I whispered, "Joe...". And you know what? He didn't think it was at all funny. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6695245234059039334?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6695245234059039334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6695245234059039334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6695245234059039334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6695245234059039334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/is-it-christy-or-is-it-ghost.html' title='Is it Christy or is it a Ghost?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7512073874671489835</id><published>2010-01-16T19:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T19:20:08.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking walking walking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; color: #000000'&gt;&lt;DIV style="FONT-FAMILY: Arial; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt"&gt; &lt;P&gt;Today was my 2nd day of C25K.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Much, much better than first day.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;Day one:&amp;nbsp; coughing, wheezing, realization that there will be no running for a while, that it's better to go slow, but STILL GO.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;Day two:&amp;nbsp; no coughing, no wheezing, not even as out of breath, but still worked hard.&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;Monday is the beginning of a 12 week challenge.&amp;nbsp; We are supposed to write short term and long term goals.&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;SHORT TERM:&amp;nbsp; I will do the C25K workout 3 times a week for one month WALKING, then I will try to begin the interval walk/jog training.&amp;nbsp; I will also do the No Excuses Workout 2 times a week.&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt; &lt;P&gt;LONG TERM:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I will lose 5 pounds by February 15th.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7512073874671489835?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7512073874671489835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7512073874671489835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7512073874671489835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7512073874671489835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/walking-walking-walking.html' title='Walking walking walking'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3092668511275120173</id><published>2010-01-16T12:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T12:36:18.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Books</title><content type='html'>&lt;style media="screen" type="text/css"&gt; .gr_grid_container { /* customize grid container div here. eg: width: 500px; */ } .gr_grid_book_container { /* customize book cover container div here */ float: left; width: 39px; height: 60px; padding: 0px 0px; overflow: hidden; } &lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="gr_grid_widget_1263663126"&gt;&lt;!-- Show static html as a placeholder in case js is not enabled - javascript include will override this if things work --&gt;&lt;h2&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/1715069-christy?utm_medium=api&amp;amp;utm_source=grid_widget" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;Christy's book montage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_container"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/443072.The_Cliff_House_Strangler_A_Sarah_Woolson_Mystery" title="The Cliff House Strangler: A Sarah Woolson Mystery (Sarah Woolson Mysteries)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Cliff House Strangler: A Sarah Woolson Mystery" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1174820661s/443072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1047436.Murder_on_Nob_Hill" title="Murder on Nob Hill"&gt;&lt;img alt="Murder on Nob Hill" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1180492349s/1047436.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1273955.The_Russian_Hill_Murders_A_Sarah_Woolson_Mystery" title="The Russian Hill Murders: A Sarah Woolson Mystery"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Russian Hill Murders: A Sarah Woolson Mystery" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1182429960s/1273955.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1002616.The_Kingdoms_and_the_Elves_of_the_Reaches" title="The Kingdoms and the Elves of the Reaches (Keeper Martin's Tales Series, Book 1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Kingdoms and the Elves of the Reaches" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1180133877s/1002616.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/372000.The_Disappeared" title="The Disappeared (Retrieval Artist Novel, Book 1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Disappeared" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1174242008s/372000.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/372004.Extremes" title="Extremes (Retrieval Artist Novel, Book 2)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Extremes" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1174242010s/372004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1.Harry_Potter_and_the_Half_Blood_Prince" title="Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter, #6)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255614960s/1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2.Harry_Potter_and_the_Order_of_the_Phoenix" title="Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter, #5)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255614970s/2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3.Harry_Potter_and_the_Sorcerer_s_Stone" title="Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Harry Potter, #1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51VC8RPZA2L._SL75_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5.Harry_Potter_and_the_Prisoner_of_Azkaban" title="Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Harry Potter, #3)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51GPRB9862L._SL75_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6.Harry_Potter_and_the_Goblet_of_Fire" title="Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Harry Potter, #4)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1156039815s/6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15881.Harry_Potter_and_the_Chamber_of_Secrets" title="Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Harry Potter, #2)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255627685s/15881.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/136251.Harry_Potter_and_the_Deathly_Hallows" title="Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Harry Potter, #7)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255573000s/136251.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/294046.The_Judas_Strain" title="The Judas Strain (Sigma Force #4)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Judas Strain" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1184634949s/294046.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/69802.Tooth_and_Nail" title="Tooth and Nail"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tooth and Nail" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170712665s/69802.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/78427.The_Total_Money_Makeover_A_Proven_Plan_for_Financial_Fitness" title="The Total Money Makeover: A Proven Plan for Financial Fitness"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Total Money Makeover: A Proven Plan for Financial Fitness" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170943850s/78427.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30068.The_Book_of_the_Dead" title="The Book of the Dead (Pendergast, #7) (Diogenes, #3)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Book of the Dead" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1168051103s/30068.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39028.The_Wheel_of_Darkness" title="The Wheel of Darkness (Pendergast, #8)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Wheel of Darkness" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169235778s/39028.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39030.Reliquary" title="Reliquary (Pendergast, #2)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Reliquary" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169235779s/39030.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39031.The_Cabinet_of_Curiosities" title="The Cabinet of Curiosities (Pendergast, #3)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Cabinet of Curiosities" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169235779s/39031.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39033.Still_Life_with_Crows" title="Still Life with Crows (Pendergast, #4)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Still Life with Crows" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169235780s/39033.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/67035.Relic" title="Relic (Pendergast #1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Relic" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170665293s/67035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/136637.Brimstone" title="Brimstone (Pendergast, #5/Diogenes, #1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Brimstone" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172082458s/136637.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/136638.Dance_of_Death" title="Dance of Death (Pendergast, #6/Diogenes, #2)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Dance of Death" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172082458s/136638.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/136640.The_Codex" title="The Codex"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Codex" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172082458s/136640.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/136641.Tyrannosaur_Canyon" title="Tyrannosaur Canyon"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tyrannosaur Canyon" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172082459s/136641.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1234704.Blasphemy" title="Blasphemy"&gt;&lt;img alt="Blasphemy" border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51DqQqjlI3L._SL75_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32137.Summer_of_the_Dragon" title="Summer of the Dragon"&gt;&lt;img alt="Summer of the Dragon" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1168345818s/32137.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32139.The_Deeds_of_the_Disturber" title="The Deeds of the Disturber (Amelia Peabody, #5)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Deeds of the Disturber" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1168345819s/32139.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32143.The_Curse_of_the_Pharaohs" title="The Curse of the Pharaohs (Amelia Peabody, #2)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Curse of the Pharaohs" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1168345821s/32143.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40495.Lion_in_the_Valley" title="Lion in the Valley (Amelia Peabody, #4)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Lion in the Valley" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169436629s/40495.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/64255.The_Ape_Who_Guards_the_Balance" title="The Ape Who Guards the Balance (Amelia Peabody, #10)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Ape Who Guards the Balance" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170621862s/64255.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/66507.The_Golden_One" title="The Golden One (Amelia Peabody, #14)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Golden One" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170652210s/66507.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/66508.Borrower_of_the_Night" title="Borrower of the Night (Vicky Bliss, #1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Borrower of the Night" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170652210s/66508.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/66510.The_Falcon_at_the_Portal" title="The Falcon at the Portal (Amelia Peabody, #11)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Falcon at the Portal" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170652212s/66510.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/66513.The_Love_Talker" title="The Love Talker"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Love Talker" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170652220s/66513.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/66514.Legend_in_Green_Velvet" 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/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/121749.Prince_Caspian" title="Prince Caspian (Chronicles of Narnia, #4)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Prince Caspian" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171834965s/121749.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/140225.The_Voyage_of_the_Dawn_Treader" title="The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (Chronicles of Narnia, #5)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172116494s/140225.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/73930.The_Silver_Hand" title="The Silver Hand (The Song of Albion, Book 2)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Silver Hand" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170843498s/73930.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/73932.The_Paradise_War" title="The Paradise War (The Song of Albion, Book 1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Paradise War" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170843498s/73932.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/264007.The_Endless_Knot" title="The Endless Knot (The Song of Albion, Book 3)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Endless Knot" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173242912s/264007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2429135.The_Girl_with_the_Dragon_Tattoo" title="The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Millennium, #1)"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255570700s/2429135.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1307649.Dead_Ex" title="Dead Ex"&gt;&lt;img alt="Dead Ex" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1182653766s/1307649.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10692.The_Historian" title="The Historian"&gt;&lt;img alt="The Historian" border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51D6T04WTFL._SL75_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3871.The_Politically_Incorrect_Guide_to_American_History" title="The Politically Incorrect Guide to American History"&gt;&lt;img alt="The 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href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7669.Timeline" title="Timeline"&gt;&lt;img alt="Timeline" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1210660334s/7669.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15860.State_of_Fear" title="State of Fear"&gt;&lt;img alt="State of Fear" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1166695731s/15860.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/83763.Prey" title="Prey"&gt;&lt;img alt="Prey" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171047337s/83763.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="gr_grid_book_container"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6526.Book_Of_The_Dead" title="Book Of The Dead (Kay Scarpetta, #15)"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book Of The Dead" 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/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br style="clear: both;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="gr_grid_branding" href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/1715069-christy" style="clear: both; color: #382110; float: right; font-size: 0.9em; text-decoration: none;"&gt;Christy's favorite books »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;noscript&gt;&lt;/noscript&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;script charset="utf-8" src="http://www.goodreads.com/review/grid_widget/1715069.Christy's%20book%20montage?cover_size=small&amp;amp;num_books=200&amp;amp;order=d&amp;amp;shelf=read&amp;amp;sort=author&amp;amp;widget_id=1263663126" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3092668511275120173?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3092668511275120173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3092668511275120173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3092668511275120173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3092668511275120173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/books.html' title='Books'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5264591414357839872</id><published>2010-01-16T12:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T12:13:36.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Saturday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5264591414357839872?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5264591414357839872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5264591414357839872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5264591414357839872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5264591414357839872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/saturday.html' title=''/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4512227294636684643</id><published>2010-01-03T19:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T19:30:45.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah the new year.</title><content type='html'>For some reason, at the first of the New Year, I feel a compulsion to record how much I weigh, and my measurements.  I have done this now for 4 years in a row.  At this point I might as well stop, because it's the same every year give or take 5 pounds and a quarter of an inch here or there, sometimes to the good, sometimes not.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past I've done it with great thoughts of losing weight and getting in shape with many New Years Resolutions to go along with the measurements.  This year, I didn't even make any New Years Resolutions, but out of habit, did the obligatory measurements.  In one sense, it was a relief that, really, everything is pretty much the same.  In another sense, it feels like a monumental waste of life to be so out of shape and knowing that 4 years have sped by with no changes to the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I DON'T make any resolutions or pretend to try it will all just happen by magic.    HA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4512227294636684643?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4512227294636684643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4512227294636684643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4512227294636684643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4512227294636684643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2010/01/ah-new-year.html' title='Ah the new year.'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2662499271555092764</id><published>2009-12-11T17:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T17:28:25.474-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Toddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tis&lt;/span&gt; is the time of year for hot toddy drinks.  I should make some.  I think it's been, oh...10 or more years since I've had a hot toddy.   I'm not sure why.  Especially since anything made with butter and ice cream HAS to be worth while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my recipe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/4 gallon (1 pint) vanilla ice cream&lt;br /&gt;1 lb brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp nutmeg&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;1 lb softened butter or margarine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blend all ingredients together and freeze.  When ready to enjoy, mix 2 tbsp mix to 1 cup almost boiling water and 1 oz rum (or more or less).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2662499271555092764?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2662499271555092764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2662499271555092764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2662499271555092764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2662499271555092764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2009/12/hot-toddy.html' title='Hot Toddy'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7238279713180996826</id><published>2009-03-07T19:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T20:12:35.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Spring is here (at least it feels like it today).  I saw the woman that lives in the house behind me today.  She was outside for the first time I've seen her all winter.   You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; her.  The dog hater.  The mean woman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's still mean.  She was standing on her deck this afternoon talking to someone in a neighbor's yard (loudly) about the fence and the property line and having a surveyor come out.  I couldn't catch if she was taking about our fence or hers, or if she was talking about getting a survey now or when we put up our fence.  But it doesn't matter.  If she is still upset about the fence after all these months, or if she still thinks we encroached on her property, I'm not sure what she hopes to gain by it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I started to get really upset, but then I just realized there is absolutely nothing I can do to change her opinion of me or make her be nice.  I have never in my life had to struggle so hard against negative feelings toward someone.   I betcha my blood pressure goes up every time I see her.    I have no desire to be nice in any way to her, which, really, is not in my nature.   I'm normally not hateful toward anyone.    So, once again, I need to put it aside and not let her have this power over me.   Who knows.  Maybe some day I'll be able to see her without such a strong rush of emotion.    But like Joe says, "She's old, honey.  You'll outlive her."  Then, I win.  =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7238279713180996826?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7238279713180996826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7238279713180996826' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7238279713180996826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7238279713180996826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-is-here-at-least-it-feels-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3008196405617240124</id><published>2009-01-12T19:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T19:05:28.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beautiful People</title><content type='html'>I'm watching CSI Miami.  The opening segment is showing a busy upscale hotel, and there are only beautiful women wearing mini-skirts and high heels, and well dressed handsome men hurrying through; everyone obviously has M-O-N-E-Y.  Is Miami REALLY like that?  Where are the old people?   The fat people?  The ugly people?  If I move to Miami, maybe I too, will morph into one of the Beautiful People.  Ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3008196405617240124?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3008196405617240124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3008196405617240124' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3008196405617240124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3008196405617240124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2009/01/beautiful-people.html' title='The Beautiful People'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3209461469594421739</id><published>2009-01-03T08:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T08:24:33.275-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another year has exited into history</title><content type='html'>Man.  I cannot BELIEVE how fast 2008 slipped by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Year's Resolution?  Perfection, of course.  Perfect wife, weight, work ethic, house cleaner, budget master, etc etc.   I've already failed and it's only January 3rd.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The REAL goals are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Lose 5 pounds a month.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Don't say anything critical about others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both will be a challenge.  I'm not sure which will be harder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck, self control and persistence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3209461469594421739?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3209461469594421739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3209461469594421739' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3209461469594421739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3209461469594421739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2009/01/another-year-has-exited-into-history.html' title='Another year has exited into history'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-114819466756350780</id><published>2008-11-12T20:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T20:36:42.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Karaoke!</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh!  My cable company has an "On Demand" feature, and one of the options is a Free Spot with different shows that are free.  Tonight I was perusing the Free Spot and I saw KARAOKE!  Who can resist?  So I pulled it up and found a song I thought I knew, "Survive" and loaded it up.  I was a little surprised because there are no background singers or anything like that.  You are the ONLY one singing.  So I jump in and start singing and the first thing I notice is I can't really sing at all.  It was in a key that doesn't work well with my voice.  I KID YOU NOT, the dogs went nuts.  They both started barking and running around like the house was coming down upon them.  It was a little embarrassing and I'm glad no other humans were here.    I did try another one, and it was a bit better, but both the dogs still wanted to go outside.  In the pouring rain.   Deep down inside I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;confident&lt;/span&gt; that I will never do karaoke in public.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-114819466756350780?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/114819466756350780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=114819466756350780' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/114819466756350780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/114819466756350780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/11/karaoke.html' title='Karaoke!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4912348675202742149</id><published>2008-09-14T12:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T12:54:36.764-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooking</title><content type='html'>Today, I'm cooking lasagna &amp;amp; goulash for meals later in the week.  It smells like Italian!  Lovely!  Tonight I'm trying a new recipe using round steak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a a dreary, rainy day which is perfect for cooking.  I wonder if the weather is an effect of Ike?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4912348675202742149?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4912348675202742149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4912348675202742149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4912348675202742149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4912348675202742149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/09/cooking.html' title='Cooking'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-246733775966596306</id><published>2008-09-01T20:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T20:43:33.148-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>I know Labor Day is supposed to be a day of rest from labor, but that is far from what my day was like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laundry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changing sheets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grocery store&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helping Sarah clean the house she's shacked up in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making homemade ice cream and supper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working on the budget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working on work stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even get a nap. Oh woe is me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah called while I was making the ice cream base. She was sneezing and snuffing. She said she was trying to clean, and it was so dusty her allergies were acting up. Before I really had time to think about it, I asked her if she wanted me to come help her clean. Even as I was saying it, I was thinking, "What am I doing???" And, she gratefully accepted. I've never been there. So, I loaded up cleaning supplies and trotted over. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It looked about like her room.    Eric is a "saver".  The number of glass jars, plastic containers, egg cartons, bits and pieces of this and that was remarkable.  So, I'm remarking on it.   Reminds me of Jon's Grandma Force.  Nothing was EVER EVER thrown away if something could be done with it "someday".  But at least you can say, "They lived through the Great Depression"  and sort of understand it.  Eric is just a pack rat.  Period.   A couple of hours later, the furniture was vacuumed, the floors were vacuumed and everything was dusted.  Hopefully Sarah won't be so miserable.  Just in case, I gave her some Alavert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope your day was more relaxing....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-246733775966596306?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/246733775966596306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=246733775966596306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/246733775966596306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/246733775966596306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/09/labor-day.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4886886166409009129</id><published>2008-08-28T07:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T07:25:37.737-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News</title><content type='html'>I got a letter in the mail yesterday.  My blood is free of Babiosis, so it wasn't me that caused the man with the liver transplant to die.  What a relief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4886886166409009129?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4886886166409009129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4886886166409009129' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4886886166409009129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4886886166409009129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/08/good-news.html' title='Good News'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-9126043331962365264</id><published>2008-08-14T20:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T20:43:28.488-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh what a day</title><content type='html'>I spent the ENTIRE working day on one file.  One.  And even now, I'm not done.  Tomorrow will be another long day.  Oh the working life.    I can hardly wait for tomorrow to get here.  HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Eliz and the kids and I are going to the Greenwood mall to see Hello Kitty.  Sofi is a big fan.  Hopefully I'll remember the camera to take pictures &amp;amp; I'll post one or two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-9126043331962365264?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/9126043331962365264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=9126043331962365264' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9126043331962365264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9126043331962365264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-what-day.html' title='Oh what a day'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7507310063125957188</id><published>2008-08-10T19:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T19:18:53.664-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympics</title><content type='html'>Anyone watching the Olympics?  Last night I was up until after midnight watching swimming and the men's gymnastics qualifying rounds.  Can you BELIEVE the Chinese on the pumel horse, rings and paralel bars?   OMG!  They are AMAZING to watch!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a whole different subject, today, for the first time in months, probably, I put in my hearing aids.  EVERYTHING is so &lt;em&gt;loud! &lt;/em&gt;  If it wasn't for the need to hear people I wouldn't wear them.  I can live without hearing the clock tick.   =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7507310063125957188?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7507310063125957188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7507310063125957188' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7507310063125957188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7507310063125957188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/08/olympics.html' title='Olympics'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7270449119037700092</id><published>2008-08-06T20:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T20:46:11.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I may have killed someone UPDATE</title><content type='html'>I called the blood bank and asked if the results were in yet.  She said they had to send the blood off to the CDC for complete testing.  I'm not sure if that's good or bad.  On the one hand, they'll probably run it for every disease known to man to see if it may have affected that poor man.  On the other hand, what if they find something that didn't hurt the guy,  but isn't good for me?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady said she should know something in a week or two and she promised she would call me with the results either way.  As soon as I know I'll pass the news along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7270449119037700092?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7270449119037700092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7270449119037700092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7270449119037700092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7270449119037700092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-may-have-killed-someone-update.html' title='I may have killed someone UPDATE'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4599325553812560044</id><published>2008-08-02T18:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T18:31:40.105-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hummingbirds and other lovely things</title><content type='html'>We have a hummingbird feeder that is well loved by both the local hummers and me. It's amazing how fast they can eat (drink?) the feeder empty. I make my own syrup which is MUCH cheaper than the store bought mixes, and better for the birds, too. So far, I can tell there are at least 3 different hummers that eat at the feeder. They are a pretty, shimmery color of green. And one ruby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;throated&lt;/span&gt; hummer. They are so pretty and amazing to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was driving down the street and one of my neighbors had a bunch of stuff at the end of her drive with a Free sign. To my joy, she had a medium size Weber grill... Nothing wrong with it at all. I thanked her and trotted home with the grill. I can't wait to make steaks on it. Yes, we have a gas grill. But does anything really rival the taste of charcoal grill flavor? And it's so much easier to use hickory chips and other such flavorings with charcoal grills. So tomorrow we'll celebrate the new find and grill some steaks. YUM!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4599325553812560044?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4599325553812560044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4599325553812560044' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4599325553812560044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4599325553812560044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/08/hummingbirds-and-other-lovely-things.html' title='Hummingbirds and other lovely things'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4026874043592285598</id><published>2008-07-21T20:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T21:44:53.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I may have killed someone</title><content type='html'>I'm not having the best week.   Last week I got a call from the blood center.  Apparently TWO YEARS ago I gave blood that was subsequently was given to a guy who had a liver transplant.  The guy died because blood he was given was tainted with Babiosis which is mainly passed on by ticks and is similar to Lyme disease.   So I live in the Midwest, and who that lives in the Midwest has not at some time in their life been bitten by a tick?  Anyway, most healthy people don't get sick from Babiosis, but if you are immuno-compromised it isn't a good thing.  They told me this last week and asked me to go to Columbus Indiana to give a blood sample so they can test it to see if I'm the one that did the guy in.  I said, "That's 40 miles away!  Can't I just have my doctor's office take a sample and send it to you?"  She said no, but that she would check with the hospital here and see if they can do it.  She called me back Friday and said I could go to the hospital this am and they will take the sample and a courier will pick it up.  So, I did that this morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**OK.  I KNOW.  I may have &lt;em&gt;killed&lt;/em&gt; someone with my blood and I'm worried about driving 40 miles.  How selfish and self-centered am I?  Well, truthfully it was a knee-jerk reaction, and I wasn't thinking about it.  The price of gas is that bad.**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to why it's still a bad week.  When I was giving the blood, the gal needed FOUR tubes.  She got the first one just fine.  Her hand was shaking slightly.  Hangover?  Nervous about Babiosis? Inexperienced?  I will never know.  The second tube didn't go well.  She pushed just a little too hard and went right through my vein.  ouch.  She tried to adjust the needle.  Ouch again.  She slid the needle back a little and blood spurted  out of my arm, but not into the tube.  Oh joy.  So, we had to try the other arm.  Do you think it's Karma for being a butt about not going to Columbus? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the REAL kicker.  I'm on call.  Someone died in an accident in southern Indiana.  Guess where I had to drive right through?  That's right.  Columbus.  Two times today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll update you when I find out if it was me or not.  I don't think it was my blood, but you never know.  I hope it wasn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4026874043592285598?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4026874043592285598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4026874043592285598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4026874043592285598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4026874043592285598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-may-have-killed-someone.html' title='I may have killed someone'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6350994623861876121</id><published>2008-07-03T22:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T22:49:47.285-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How Old Do You Think I Am?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Sarah and I took a road trip to Goodwill. Normally when we go to Goodwill, it's to take stuff, and I just pull up to the drive-thru and drop stuff off. But yesterday, we went inside in search of pants for Sarah. She had three pairs of pants to her name, all of which are pants that aren't pants that should be worn in public. Two have holes big enough to make them obscene to wear, and the other is a weird orange-y color. One of her bosses made her promise not to wear one of the pairs of pants to work anymore. I decided action was in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the good news is that Sarah found 3 pairs of pants and two pairs of socks for $14.95. What a deal! And no holes, stains, or weird colors!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The not-so-good news is that as we were checking out, the kid ringing us up (he looked like he was maybe 25 tops) gave me the total. He then looked at me and said, "People 55 years and older get a 50% discount today." I looked stunned, felt stunned, WAS stunned. Then I started laughing. I looked at Sarah, and she looked appalled. I said, "Well, maybe I SHOULD start dying my hair again." Poor kid, belatedly realizing what he had done tried and tried to make it right, but there was just no going back. Stuttering claims of "I ask everybody." are unbelieved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should sign up for that show "10 Years Younger", and go back to see that boy after the makeover. We'll see then if he "asks everybody". HA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6350994623861876121?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6350994623861876121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6350994623861876121' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6350994623861876121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6350994623861876121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-old-do-you-think-i-am.html' title='How Old Do You Think I Am?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-467452318309058848</id><published>2008-07-02T18:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T18:45:57.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back In The Day</title><content type='html'>The night before last it was really cool outside, so we turned off the air and opened the windows. Yesterday it was still fairly comfortable so we left the air off and the windows open. Today, the same. But I'm lying on my couch taking a nice Siesta this afternoon, and if it wasn't for the ceiling fan, I'd be miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which made me think about those movies I'd seen as a kid where women would be lounging on their couches wearing flowing white floor length dresses, not a drop of sweat to be seen. Two or three boys or men wearing only some sort of white wrap around their waist, but not floor length, would be standing around the (Egyptian, I'm assuming) woman fanning her with some sort of large tropical leaf. If it was me and I was the "fanner", I'd find some way to get some air going for me, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Further reflection brings to mind my child hood and how there were no ceiling fans, box fans, stand fans or air conditioners in my home. My room was upstairs (heat rises, remember....) and I can remember nights that it so hot and the air so still, that  falling to sleep was just about impossible. We had a HUGE industrial strength fan that Mom would put in the window at the top of the stairs. She would set it to blow air out the window, and hopefully to draw the cooler outside air into the house. I don't recall it making much difference, other than sounding like an airplane engine was in the hallway outside my room. Or, maybe it did make a difference, and goodness knows how horrid it would have been without it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, the dogs and I are still laying around, and all of us are grateful for the ceiling fan, waiting for the cool night air to come back. Where's that darn Egyptian boy? He could at least bring me a cool drink...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-467452318309058848?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/467452318309058848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=467452318309058848' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/467452318309058848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/467452318309058848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/07/back-in-day.html' title='Back In The Day'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5325583541344318036</id><published>2008-06-30T19:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T19:47:16.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yawn</title><content type='html'>Two of my siblings are making me tired. Teresa is moving Wednesday. Ray is moving later in July. Just the thought of moving exhausts me, since a mere 5 months ago I moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crazy neighbor is now putting up her own fence. She only has to put in one long side, since my fence provides a long line in her back yard and the neighbor on her right has a fence already up. I noticed she put the posts "close to" but not "tied to" my fence and the other neighbor's fence. At first I was really distressed by this. But then, I realized - yet again - that she's crazy. There's just nothing you can do about crazy except shake your head at it and try not to get sucked into crazy yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to be getting a prescription for a c-pap machine sometime soon. I'm anxious to see how that's going to pan out. I really hope it works because I'm tired of being tired. :::yawn::: Maybe if I wasn't so tired, my siblings' impending moves wouldn't be so draining. ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5325583541344318036?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5325583541344318036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5325583541344318036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5325583541344318036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5325583541344318036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/06/yawn.html' title='Yawn'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3870176961509511508</id><published>2008-06-18T06:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T06:31:57.374-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Crazy Neighbor Story</title><content type='html'>We found out that our Crazy Neighbor thought we put our fence on her property.  She said "someone" moved the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;boundary&lt;/span&gt; markers.  The boundary markers are buried deep in the ground for that very purpose...so no one can move them.  Even if the top is taken off, the surveyors use a metal detector to find the pen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she had her land surveyed, and she has decided to put up a fence of her own.  She is going to put it so there is one foot between our fence and hers because she wants to be able to "walk the land" and go behind her fence.  She's nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighbor to our left talked to Crazy Neighbor and told her she thought it was very nice that we put up a fence to avoid conflict with her.  She said we are all supposed to be looking out for each other, not feud.  Maybe that will help her calm down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, the joy of home ownership.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3870176961509511508?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3870176961509511508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3870176961509511508' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3870176961509511508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3870176961509511508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/06/another-crazy-neighbor-story.html' title='Another Crazy Neighbor Story'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7761470657411477503</id><published>2008-06-13T22:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T22:51:46.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maizy at 2 months and 6 months</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211564005398444130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SFMx2dH8eGI/AAAAAAAAADE/pcBdu9gRv7Q/s320/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SFMyHDf0KVI/AAAAAAAAADM/xWYjzJKJS3U/s1600-h/Puppies,+family+visit+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211564290577017170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SFMyHDf0KVI/AAAAAAAAADM/xWYjzJKJS3U/s320/Puppies,+family+visit+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7761470657411477503?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7761470657411477503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7761470657411477503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7761470657411477503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7761470657411477503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/06/maizy-at-2-months-and-6-months.html' title='Maizy at 2 months and 6 months'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SFMx2dH8eGI/AAAAAAAAADE/pcBdu9gRv7Q/s72-c/022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6848004164244705529</id><published>2008-06-13T22:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T22:37:09.837-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a crazy neighbor.</title><content type='html'>OK. My neighbor behind me is apparently dog-phobic. We moved here in January. She has spoken to us a total of three times, despite our efforts to say hello and try to be friendly. She literally turns her back on us and walks away, &lt;em&gt;except&lt;/em&gt; for the three times she has "talked" to us. All conversations having to do with our dog, Butch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Butch went into her yard shortly after we moved here. The back door was open and I didn't realize it and Butch went out. She yelled at me, "PLEASE keep your dog out of my yard. I don't like dogs and dogs are supposed to be tied up." I apologized and tried to talk to her, but she turned around and walked away. The second time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; the kids were here, and everyone was outside. Butch started over toward her yard, and I called to him to come back to me. He hadn't even made it to her yard yet. She came out on her deck and literally screamed at me, right in front of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; the kids. On and on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN, she called the sheriff and told the sheriff that Butch was pooping in the neighbor's yards. He hadn't pooped in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;anyone's&lt;/span&gt; yard but ours. We told the sheriff that that wasn't the case, and the neighbor apparently just doesn't like dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;. We decided to put up a fence and put an end to the whole entire matter. The fence went up today. And it's right on the property line. Joe came home from work, and we went out to look at the fence. As we were walking around behind the fence, the crazy neighbor came barrelling out of her house and started pointing at me and telling me to stay off her grass. I was taken aback and said, "Excuse me?" She started going on about my dog and how I didn't listen and keep the dog tied up and I am to stay off of her grass. I just didn't even know what to say. Joe tried to talk to her, and she just ignored him. She told us we have three weeks to stain the fence or do whatever we have to do to it, and then we are to stay off of her grass!! She turned around and started to walk away. I said, "Ma'am. we put up the fence so that our dogs won't bother you!" She just repeated herself and I said, "I am really sorry you feel this way. I don't know what else to do." And I turned around and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe decided to stand on her yard since he has three weeks to do so. Apparently, our effort to end the war didn't work, and has just heated up the battle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6848004164244705529?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6848004164244705529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6848004164244705529' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6848004164244705529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6848004164244705529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-have-crazy-neighbor.html' title='I have a crazy neighbor.'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5182346604144294648</id><published>2008-05-28T22:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T22:39:15.162-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Butch, hair, sleep</title><content type='html'>Butch is getting so old.  We went for a walk today - maybe 2 miles.  I thought I was going to have to carry him the last block.  Poor guy.  Long walks are a thing of the past for Butch I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my hair cut today.  The old color is almost gone.  We are getting very close to no artificial color hang-over.  Which means we are &lt;em&gt;mostly &lt;/em&gt;gray now.  It's a lot of work going gray.  I keep wanting to DO something about it.  But if I do, I'll just have to start all over again some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm signed up to do a sleep study on June 9.  Joe tells me I need to get checked for sleep apnea.  When I was in Louisiana with Suzanne, who says she can sleep through anything, she told me I need to get tested for sleep apnea.  Apparently, I snore like a freight train and wake myself up trying to breath.  &lt;sigh&gt;  I'm not really sure what to DO about it if I have it.  Can I sleep hooked up to some machine?  Will I need surgery?   My dad says that surgery is horribly painful.  A guy I work with got it and was pretty much knocked on his butt for a month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5182346604144294648?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5182346604144294648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5182346604144294648' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5182346604144294648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5182346604144294648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/05/butch-hair-sleep.html' title='Butch, hair, sleep'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6413241258134701486</id><published>2008-05-27T16:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T16:55:26.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brown Headed Cow Bird</title><content type='html'>We have Brown Headed Cow Birds in our neighborhood and they frequent my bird feeder.  Cow birds are really sneaky.  And lazy.  They lay their eggs in other bird's nests and let the other birds raise the young.  Most of the time the babies quickly outgrow their nest mates and the "real" babies starve to death because they are pushed out of the way by the Cow Birds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just heard a bunch of racket outside, and saw 4 birds land on the bird feeder shepherd's hook, and a smaller bird land on the suet feeder.  The smaller bird was getting food from the suet feeder and flying up to feed the "babies", that were already bigger than it was!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Geez&lt;/span&gt;.  poor thing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6413241258134701486?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6413241258134701486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6413241258134701486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6413241258134701486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6413241258134701486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/05/brown-headed-cow-bird.html' title='Brown Headed Cow Bird'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2361887772176152376</id><published>2008-05-03T20:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T21:16:14.668-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuki spends the night with Grandma</title><content type='html'>Eliz and the kids came down to Bloomington today. We went for a really long walk (well, it SEEMED long) about 2 miles. The good news is it really tired Maizy out. It tired Elizabeth and I out too. The kids, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some how, Yuki decided he should say all night with me. So here he is. No nap for Grandma. We tried. "Yuki, watch this movie. Grandma is going to sleep." (Never fear, I was in the same room.) Eventually it was clear I wasn't going to get a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan B. I'm dog sitting for a co-worker so we went to visit the dogs. When we left there we decided to go see Joe at work, and since it was about 5, we all went to McDonalds for supper. Then we went to Target and Bloomingfoods and home. 7:30. Bedtime is 8:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently it's 9:10. Guess who is still up and who doesn't want to be? &lt;yawn&gt;It's hard being a Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2361887772176152376?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2361887772176152376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2361887772176152376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2361887772176152376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2361887772176152376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/05/yuki-spends-night-with-grandma.html' title='Yuki spends the night with Grandma'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-396646985907875461</id><published>2008-05-02T19:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T20:03:46.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maizy</title><content type='html'>I took Maizy to the vet today to get her stitches out (spayed last week). The vet office we go to has 3 vets, and it's just a walk in kinda deal...you get which ever vet is on duty that day. So we've seen 2 of the vets before today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vet #1 (when she was 8 weeks old) - She's gonna be a big dog! Maybe even 120-140 pounds! She sure is pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vet #2 (when she was 12 weeks old for booster) - She's going to be big...maybe 80-85 pounds. She's a beautiful dog. (We were a little disappointed. But this vet has more experience than Vet #1, so we thought Vet #1 was maybe being a little enthusiastic.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vet #3 (today - 19 weeks old weighing in at 45.5 pounds) -I said, "So what do you think, Dr. Bob? How big is she going to be?" Dr. Bob laughed RIGHT OUT LOUD. "She's gonna be &lt;em&gt;HUGE. &lt;/em&gt;Somewhere between &lt;em&gt;HUGE &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;LARGER. &lt;/em&gt;She's got paws like a polar bear!" More laughter.  She's a really pretty dog.  This is the vet with the most experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least they all agree she's pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course only time will tell. I'm hoping for HUGE and a raise at work so I can afford to feed her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-396646985907875461?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/396646985907875461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=396646985907875461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/396646985907875461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/396646985907875461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/05/maizy.html' title='Maizy'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7252552087558756450</id><published>2008-04-22T10:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T10:57:13.132-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrrr Grrrr Spring Fever Grrrr</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh.  I am in such a bad mood right now.  I don't want to be at work.  I have a beautiful view of a beautiful day and I'm stuck inside trying to return phone calls and work files.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7252552087558756450?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7252552087558756450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7252552087558756450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7252552087558756450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7252552087558756450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/04/grrrr-grrrr-spring-fever-grrrr.html' title='Grrrr Grrrr Spring Fever Grrrr'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2391634913652632466</id><published>2008-04-20T18:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T18:28:33.837-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maizy and her frog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SAvCDGC_hII/AAAAAAAAAC8/i0M_8x8_ehE/s1600-h/Maizy%27s+frog+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191456353893188738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SAvCDGC_hII/AAAAAAAAAC8/i0M_8x8_ehE/s320/Maizy%27s+frog+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One day when Maizy was a baby (ie, when she only weighed about 20 pounds) we got her a stuffed frog that makes a ribbet-ribbet sound. I'm frankly amazed that it has lived this long. Normally Butch tears up ANYTHING with stuffing in it. Somehow, Butch knows this is Maizy's toy and doesn't bother it. She LOVES it. Here is a picture of Frog and a video of Maizy playing with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-32917eef17bd5e9a" 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.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D32917eef17bd5e9a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329944549%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D49076F0FAE52766D745381ED3263198D2E3D3923.66D610EA552A55568928EFDC2D4474FDC2A60BA7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D32917eef17bd5e9a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DN1mGGjbORM2_QvuVE2xFKQ2ZN7o&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.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D32917eef17bd5e9a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329944549%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D49076F0FAE52766D745381ED3263198D2E3D3923.66D610EA552A55568928EFDC2D4474FDC2A60BA7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D32917eef17bd5e9a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DN1mGGjbORM2_QvuVE2xFKQ2ZN7o&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2391634913652632466?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=32917eef17bd5e9a&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2391634913652632466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2391634913652632466' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2391634913652632466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2391634913652632466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/04/maizy-and-her-frog.html' title='Maizy and her frog.'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/SAvCDGC_hII/AAAAAAAAAC8/i0M_8x8_ehE/s72-c/Maizy%27s+frog+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5988002125841732809</id><published>2008-04-18T20:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T20:16:46.208-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joy of Bird Feeders</title><content type='html'>I have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shepherd's&lt;/span&gt; hook outside my living room window.  I have a tube feeder, a thistle feeder and a suet feeder all hanging from this lovely contraption. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been the best yet.  Several &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;goldfinches &lt;/span&gt;on the thistle feeder, a beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;red wing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; blackbird on the tube feeder (singing to me.  I'm sure it really was me he was singing to...) and a small woodpecker on the suet feeder.  It was awesome.  And, a testament to good bird food.  I'm convinced the birds in the neighborhood can scope out the best food.  So, I guess if you don't want to go through a tube of food every couple of days, get the grocery store stuff.  It will last until it rots in the bottom of the feeder.  If you want pretty birds get the good stuff.  I recommend Wild Birds Unlimited Deluxe blend.  I know you didn't ask, but I just like to share good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5988002125841732809?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5988002125841732809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5988002125841732809' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5988002125841732809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5988002125841732809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/04/joy-of-bird-feeders.html' title='The Joy of Bird Feeders'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2502107862662632416</id><published>2008-04-18T10:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T10:25:07.294-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Earthquake 5.2</title><content type='html'>So, we had an earthquake this morning around 5:30 am.  It was a 5.2, rivaled only by a 5.4 earthquake years ago in this area. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sad to say I missed it.  Slept right through it.  So, I've slept through tornados, hail storms and now an earthquake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl needs her sleep.  Never let anything come between you and your zzzz's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2502107862662632416?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2502107862662632416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2502107862662632416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2502107862662632416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2502107862662632416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/04/earthquake-52.html' title='Earthquake 5.2'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1758463096894620795</id><published>2008-04-15T07:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T07:50:22.822-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Christy goes Green, but sees Red</title><content type='html'>In an effort to help the environment and be more "green" I decided to buy an electric mower.  When I got home with it, Joe just laughed at me and said it would be a pain not running over the cord.  I thought, "Seriously, how bad can it be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out yesterday just how horrible it is.  I got a 100 ft cord.  I plugged it in, started up the mower (so quiet!  so easy to start!).  I hadn't even been  mowing 30 seconds before I realized what a horrible mistake I had made.    I bet it took me 2 times longer to mow with that mower than it would have with a gas mower.  I kept having to stop and throw the cord out of the way.  I finished mowing, wiped the mower off, and put it back in the box.  Before I bought the thing, I asked if I could bring it back if I didn't like it and they said I could.  I saw an electric &lt;em&gt;cordless &lt;/em&gt;mower while I was shopping for mowers but they are twice as much as the regular electric mower.  So, today, Joe and I will return the electric mower and get a regular gas powered, smog inducing, noise making mower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To quote Kermit the Frog, "It's not easy being green."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1758463096894620795?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1758463096894620795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1758463096894620795' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1758463096894620795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1758463096894620795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/04/christy-goes-green-but-sees-red.html' title='Christy goes Green, but sees Red'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7136680249926921951</id><published>2008-03-14T13:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T13:12:59.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple question</title><content type='html'>I forgot my grocery list when I left the house this morning.  I called Joe to see if he wanted to go with me to the grocery store, or just give me the list over the phone so I can stop on my way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J:  I don't care.  It's up to you.&lt;br /&gt;C: Well, do you want to go or not? &lt;br /&gt;J:  It really doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;C:  OK.  Just read me the list.&lt;br /&gt;J:  (Read the list, talked about a couple of other things.)&lt;br /&gt;C:  OK...I'll stop on the way home then and get the groceries. &lt;br /&gt;J:   OooooKaaay.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Do you want to go?&lt;br /&gt;J:  Do you need me?  I can meet you there if you want.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Joe, I don't care if you go or not.  Do you want to go?  Yes or no.&lt;br /&gt;J:  I don't know...if you need me I can be there...&lt;br /&gt;C:  That wasn't an option.  Yes or no.&lt;br /&gt;J:  Well, if you want...&lt;br /&gt;C: (cutting Joe off) Yes or No!&lt;br /&gt;J:  O.K.  Yes I want to go.&lt;br /&gt;C:  O.K.&lt;br /&gt;J:  But no I don't want to go.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Argh!!!!!!!    OK.  I'm hanging up now. &lt;br /&gt;J:  Don't be mad at me! &lt;br /&gt;C:  I'm not mad at you.  I'm going to go.  I love you.  Have a good afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could have been such a simple conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey.  Wanna go to the store?&lt;br /&gt;Sure!  or, No thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't have to be this hard, does it?  HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should have heard the conversation about where to meet for lunch...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7136680249926921951?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7136680249926921951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7136680249926921951' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7136680249926921951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7136680249926921951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/03/simple-question.html' title='Simple question'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4563232979245280930</id><published>2008-03-01T08:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T08:28:23.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet Maizy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R8lZ0wv4O0I/AAAAAAAAACs/B8UUG59vfIU/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172764409985514306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R8lZ0wv4O0I/AAAAAAAAACs/B8UUG59vfIU/s320/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R8lZ1wv4O1I/AAAAAAAAAC0/ZAB-FBCWkiM/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172764427165383506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R8lZ1wv4O1I/AAAAAAAAAC0/ZAB-FBCWkiM/s320/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is Maizy, our "little" puppy. She'll be 11 weeks old tomorrow and already weighs 22 pounds. her mom was a boxer (65 pounds), and her dad was a mastiff (150 pounds, but only 1 year old so not full grown). That's not exactly what they were aiming for at Maizy's first home. They were looking for a boxer mom and a boxer dad. But this just goes to prove that unless you can watch a dog in heat 24/7, you may not get what you expected. A DNA test proved Daddy was the Mastiff. HAHAHA~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4563232979245280930?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4563232979245280930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4563232979245280930' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4563232979245280930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4563232979245280930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/03/meet-maizy.html' title='Meet Maizy'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R8lZ0wv4O0I/AAAAAAAAACs/B8UUG59vfIU/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5543630115754890653</id><published>2008-03-01T07:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T08:02:47.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Three on the Job Hunt</title><content type='html'>Joe's company unexpectedly closed his store.  I say unexpectedly, although there were some signs.  Other stores in the chains have been closed, but only when their contract at the mall they were in expired.  Corporate was telling Joe's store that they had nothing to worry about because Joe's store is consistently #1 or #2 top sales in the company.   Joe's store's lease doesn't expire for more than a year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But last Tuesday one of the mall managers came in asking for the general manager to discuss the lease renegotiation.  Joe knew then he had to start looking for another job, even though everyone was telling him not to worry, everything is good.  Wednesday, Joe learned the owners were scheduling a meeting for Thursday or Friday to discuss the fate of the remaining 5 stores in the chain.  We updated Joe's resume that night.  Thursday, his boss called and said the store was closed as of that day, come get anything you might have left at the store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No severance pay, no warning, no compassion.  They even told Joe they weren't going to pay him for his vacation time, or the commission he had earned since the last pay period.  It would cost a lot more in attorney fees to go after them than it would be worth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after a brief mourning period (like a couple of hours), Joe started to work on looking for a job.  Yesterday he applied for other pet store jobs.  He's going to take the tests you need to take to get into some of the factories around here.  His resume is ready to go and he's applied for some jobs on-line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him that he just has to realize that his full-time job now is to look for a job.  I think he's pretty motivated.  Especially when I made it really clear to him how much money we don't have without his job.  =)  And how, TV, cell phone, lots of running the kids around in the car (gas) and other "necessities" of daily life are going to come to a screeching halt  if he doesn't get a job soon.  You gotta get 'em where it means something.  TV and cell phone are huge to Joe.  For me, it's more like eating out, buying books on tape and Starbucks.  HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onward and upward!  God has something in mind...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5543630115754890653?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5543630115754890653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5543630115754890653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5543630115754890653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5543630115754890653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/03/day-three-on-job-hunt.html' title='Day Three on the Job Hunt'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6462832403148474569</id><published>2008-02-20T14:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T15:01:44.602-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exciting ride to work</title><content type='html'>It snowed last night, maybe an inch.  I left home for work at about 7:10 am, and the road had been plowed, but was still snow covered.  As I pulled out of the addition I live in, my car started to slide into the intersection.  Thusly warned of road conditions, I began to slowly drive up the hilly road to get to the main highway.  I was about 3/4 of the way to the top of the hill when my car decided it wasn't going to go that way.   I began to s-l-i-d-e backwards.  A pickup managed to get by me before my car turned broadside in the road, blocking both lanes. I put the car in neutral, stood on my brake, pulled up my parking brake and &lt;em&gt;finally&lt;/em&gt; my car stopped sliding just before I went into the ditch which leads to a small pond.  Whew!  Then I realized I was still blocking both lanes and I started praying that no one would top the hill and hit me.  I carefully put the car in reverse, and was able to back enough to turn to go back down the hill.  But really, it just slid back down the hill.  I had no control whatsoever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to go a different way, and had a difficult time with sliding on the road there, too.  But once I made it to a main street, everything was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really sort of thrilling (except for when I thought I was going to drive into the pond...).   Gosh.  I don't know how we ever got anywhere on the farm when it snowed.  The hills there are much worse.  I think we had snow tires, though.  If it wasn't almost March, I'd put snow tires on my car now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's snowing again now, and I go home in another 45 minutes.  Once I'm home I think I'll stay there until tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6462832403148474569?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6462832403148474569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6462832403148474569' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6462832403148474569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6462832403148474569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/02/exciting-ride-to-work.html' title='Exciting ride to work'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7506555377414502433</id><published>2008-02-04T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T20:02:36.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuck</title><content type='html'>I have a cold.  Yuki got it first, and gave it to Sarah.  Sarah happily passed it along to me.  My nose is stopped up, I have a cough that's driving me crazy, my head hurts, and I'm a little grumpy.  Thankfully I'm the only one home, so no one has to listen to me.  The really sad thing is that every time I sneeze real hard or cough more than once, I pee.  I blame it on my children.  They did it to me while in the womb.  Little brats.  Even 20 years later they are still wreaking havoc on my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to decide if I should stay home from work tomorrow or go buy some Depends...  I'm thinking I'll work from home.  Much safer that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7506555377414502433?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7506555377414502433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7506555377414502433' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7506555377414502433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7506555377414502433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/02/yuck.html' title='Yuck'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1067485730555634987</id><published>2008-01-25T09:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T09:32:21.279-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay!</title><content type='html'>Our townhouse has been subletted out so we don't have to pay rent!   Woo-hoo!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we have a little extra money, we are going to buy an LCD tv.  Looks like we can get a 42", but Joe really wants a 52" screen.  Geez.  Can we say, "The TV totally dominates the room?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone have any suggestions on brand?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1067485730555634987?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1067485730555634987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1067485730555634987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1067485730555634987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1067485730555634987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/yay.html' title='Yay!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-997820870710594599</id><published>2008-01-23T14:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T14:56:34.329-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day draws nearer...</title><content type='html'>Only 6 days to closing!  We needed to get Sarah's room painted and she was dragging her feet.  So last night, after a dinner of bacon wrapped filets, onion rings and corn dip/fritos (gotta get the veggies in...), I casually say to Sarah,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going upstairs.  And I'm going to do one of two things.  Either I'm going to paint or I'm going to pack your closet.  If you come help, I'll paint.  If you don't, I'll pack your closet.  If I see anything I don't like, I'm throwing it away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room got painted.  It looks nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-997820870710594599?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/997820870710594599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=997820870710594599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/997820870710594599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/997820870710594599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/day-draws-nearer.html' title='The day draws nearer...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-520163128499223417</id><published>2008-01-21T15:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T15:29:11.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amy's Famous Fritos Dip</title><content type='html'>At least, it's famous in our family.  She made it this summer when Teresa and I were back to see Mom and we had "The Tornado That Shook The Beds And Tore Off The Garage".  But I digress.  On to more important matters of food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy made this dip and here is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;slightly&lt;/span&gt; modified recipe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 can original &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rotel&lt;/span&gt; tomato (drained)&lt;br /&gt;1 can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nibblets&lt;/span&gt; corn (drained)&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup (or a big handful) of shredded cheese-I usually use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Monterrey &lt;/span&gt;Jack&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup (or a couple of big spoonfuls) of full-on Mayo (low fat?  yuck!)&lt;br /&gt;3 or 4 sliced green onions&lt;br /&gt;salt and pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix it all together, put it in Grandma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Crouse's&lt;/span&gt; speckled bowl covered with plastic wrap and let it chill for a while in the fridge.   Serve with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Frito's&lt;/span&gt; Scoops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you.  At first, you kind of say to yourself, "What?  Corn and tomatoes as a dip? With MAYO?" and you aren't sure you like it.  But it's addictive.  It grows on you real fast.  Sometimes I eat it without the chips.  It's probably the only way Joe and Sarah and I get any real veggies at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night, for supper, we had chicken and dumplings, and the "corn dip".  Sarah got a phone call, and was gone for 14 minutes.  She came back and the entire bowl was gone.  She ate plenty before she got the call, but you snooze you lose when it comes to this dip.   She was SO distressed, that Joe volunteered to go out in the freezing cold to get the ingredients to make more!!!   That's how good it is!!!!  Try it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Join the dip revolution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-520163128499223417?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/520163128499223417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=520163128499223417' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/520163128499223417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/520163128499223417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/amys-famous-fritos-dip.html' title='Amy&apos;s Famous Fritos Dip'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2181150482455524247</id><published>2008-01-20T08:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T09:19:07.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 days to moving day</title><content type='html'>On the one hand, 10 days sounds like an eternity.  We close on the 29th and we are very excited about the move and getting settled in to our new home.  It can't come soon enough.  On the other hand, OH MY GOSH WE ONLY HAVE 10 DAYS TILL MOVING DAY!!  Yes, we have a lot packed.  Yes, we have an idea where everything will go.  Yes, we even decided to have a local moving company come move all our stuff.  But we have SOOOOOOOOOOO much more to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Elizabeth came down with the kids.  We had asked a kid to come over and paint Sarah's room here at the apartment so it would be back to it's original eggshell color. (Her room is a bright orange and bright green.)  At the last moment, he called and had to cancel.  So, Elizabeth and Sarah and I attempted to paint Sarah's room.  We KNEW we were going to have to put on a coat of base to help cover the colors.  What we didn't know was how many coats.  AND, some of the paint "slid" on the wall.  What a nightmare.  By the time we were done with the first coat, the baby was hysterical, Yuki and Sofi were bored to tears, and I was ready for everyone to leave.   So I told everyone I'd have to go buy another gallon of Kilz2 and we'd work on it again later.  Which really means, Sarah will work on it again later.  She's the one that wanted to paint the walls originally and I told her at that time that she would have to paint it back.  I was just being nice yesterday.  It's her baby now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is REALLY REALLY cold here.  We've been so spoiled by temps that don't get below 30 degrees, and suddenly it's 0 degrees with an ungodly windchill factor and a winter advisory telling us it's &lt;em&gt;cold&lt;/em&gt; outside, so be careful out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to get back to watching Bobby Flay make comfort food.  I wish I wasn't the only one that loved meatloaf.  It just sounds so good.  So does Chili.  Of course, making either one of those items would mean I'd have to go to the store.  I wouldn't want to take the chance since the National Weather Channel tells me it's &lt;em&gt;cold outside&lt;/em&gt; and my blood might freeze right in my veins if I venture out.  So, I guess I'll just dream about the meatloaf and make chicken instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2181150482455524247?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2181150482455524247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2181150482455524247' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2181150482455524247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2181150482455524247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/10-days-to-moving-day.html' title='10 days to moving day'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6908980997494759095</id><published>2008-01-09T21:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T22:00:25.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuki strikes again</title><content type='html'>Elizabeth is in the garage putting recylables into the bins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuki walks out and says: "What the hell are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth, taken aback, says:  "What did you say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuki:  "What the hell..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth calls to tell me this, and I am &lt;em&gt;cracking up&lt;/em&gt;.  I ask her who says that.  She said she doesn't know.  I think it's the damn t.v.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6908980997494759095?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6908980997494759095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6908980997494759095' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6908980997494759095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6908980997494759095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/yuki-strikes-again.html' title='Yuki strikes again'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2981973453934245957</id><published>2008-01-07T17:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T17:19:55.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments from outside...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R4KlZ_4UXaI/AAAAAAAAACk/9hRXYjC_Gqk/s1600-h/038.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R4Kk8P4UXZI/AAAAAAAAACc/EMXNXWg1ibQ/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152862278627122578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R4Kk8P4UXZI/AAAAAAAAACc/EMXNXWg1ibQ/s320/031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most of you know we have snakes. Lots of snakes. And some of them are BIG. They unfortunately reside in our living room right now. When the blinds are open you can see the snakes through the window if you are standing outside. So yesterday some kids were outside the window looking in at the snakes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kid 1: Whoa! Look at those snakes! They're HUGE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kid 2: Wow! I wonder what kind they are?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kid 1: I know what kind they are...those are the kind of snakes that can &lt;em&gt;kill a man!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kid 2: That's creepy! Let's get out of here!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the face of it, I really wouldn't want anyone to think that my snakes could kill anyone. They aren't poisonous. They probably could strangle a person (the bigger ones) but you'd have to be pretty weak to not be able to get them off your neck, and if you're dumb enough to put them around your neck in the first place perhaps you deserve your fate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But on the other hand, if all the kids in the neighborhood are afraid of our house because of the snakes, maybe none of the little hoodlums will break in and try to steel anything. HAHA.&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;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/7389356-2981973453934245957?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2981973453934245957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2981973453934245957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2981973453934245957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2981973453934245957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/comments-from-outside.html' title='Comments from outside...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R4Kk8P4UXZI/AAAAAAAAACc/EMXNXWg1ibQ/s72-c/031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5599509746536767540</id><published>2008-01-01T08:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T08:39:48.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>Well, here it is the New Year of 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have duly recorded my weight in a top secret place known only to me, lest someone stumble across it and realize that the number on my driver's license is not correct. But, it's not that far off either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm drinking my vitamin-filled morning beverage that is supposed to give me 100% of all the vitamins and minerals I need for the day. Joe and I each got our own gender-correct canister at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;GNC&lt;/span&gt; last week. It's not supposed to be a meal replacement, but I'm thinking it can't be bad with milk and a frozen banana or some blueberries. That's more than I get for breakfast most of the time anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I was lying in bed thinking of New Years Resolutions and how they need to be do-able. Most of my thoughts centered around work. I didn't make any personal goals (other than work) because I know I won't keep them after about one and a half days. But the work one is really more for my sanity than anything else, and I'm going to try hard to keep that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will work my diaries every day and will not roll them to the next day(s)." There. It's in writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year! Blessings to you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5599509746536767540?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5599509746536767540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5599509746536767540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5599509746536767540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5599509746536767540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7586997981101222989</id><published>2007-12-15T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T20:26:33.898-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;!   It's snowing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Joe and Sarah and I went to look at the new house (Sarah hadn't seen it yet).  Sarah likes it a lot.  So do we.  The only possible drawback is the drive from the house to the highway.  It's a windy, narrow and hilly road.  It was a little dicey getting to it with slippery roads this morning.  I was driving.  Joe was very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;frightened&lt;/span&gt;.  Goodness knows why.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;HAHA&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My big goal for the weekend is to finish &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; presents and send them out this week.  I'm very very close to being done.  Once that's done, I need to really concentrate on getting the stuff I don't need on a daily basis packed up.  The very worst part about moving is the moving.  I hate packing, and I hate unpacking just as much.  But once it's all done, it will be so nice!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to watch the snow....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7586997981101222989?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7586997981101222989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7586997981101222989' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7586997981101222989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7586997981101222989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/12/let-it-snow-let-it-snow-let-it-snow.html' title='Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2702803254708031381</id><published>2007-12-11T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T19:39:44.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures of house (with their furniture)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tjqxEEUI/AAAAAAAAACE/qXCk_V2UBDA/s1600-h/great+room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142879390279143746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tjqxEEUI/AAAAAAAAACE/qXCk_V2UBDA/s320/great+room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tjqxEEVI/AAAAAAAAACM/HFga00hSUfg/s1600-h/great+room+to+dining.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142879390279143762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tjqxEEVI/AAAAAAAAACM/HFga00hSUfg/s320/great+room+to+dining.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tj6xEEWI/AAAAAAAAACU/nolFqXe82Z4/s1600-h/br+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142879394574111074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tj6xEEWI/AAAAAAAAACU/nolFqXe82Z4/s320/br+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssaxEEPI/AAAAAAAAABc/T0CeUSxykEY/s1600-h/home+front.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142878441091371250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssaxEEPI/AAAAAAAAABc/T0CeUSxykEY/s320/home+front.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssqxEEQI/AAAAAAAAABk/jw20Li3bc3A/s1600-h/kitchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142878445386338562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssqxEEQI/AAAAAAAAABk/jw20Li3bc3A/s320/kitchen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssqxEERI/AAAAAAAAABs/Vmb2kD5zgII/s1600-h/master.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142878445386338578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssqxEERI/AAAAAAAAABs/Vmb2kD5zgII/s320/master.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssqxEESI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ZsSkdocfGnA/s1600-h/master+bath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142878445386338594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ssqxEESI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ZsSkdocfGnA/s320/master+bath.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ss6xEETI/AAAAAAAAAB8/qkDNOsWBz7k/s1600-h/BR+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142878449681305906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18ss6xEETI/AAAAAAAAAB8/qkDNOsWBz7k/s320/BR+1.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/7389356-2702803254708031381?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2702803254708031381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2702803254708031381' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2702803254708031381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2702803254708031381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/12/pictures-of-house-with-their-furniture.html' title='Pictures of house (with their furniture)'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/R18tjqxEEUI/AAAAAAAAACE/qXCk_V2UBDA/s72-c/great+room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-840621890845309601</id><published>2007-12-11T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T00:01:27.318-05:00</updated><title type='text'>See Joe and I in our own short film!!</title><content type='html'>Click below.  Happy holidays!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1295141616"&gt;http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1295141616&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-840621890845309601?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/840621890845309601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=840621890845309601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/840621890845309601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/840621890845309601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/12/see-joe-and-i-in-our-own-short-film.html' title='See Joe and I in our own short film!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2569402169049742853</id><published>2007-12-10T12:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T12:17:42.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>House!!!</title><content type='html'>Joe and I are buying a house!  We are very excited (scared) and happy (worried) and looking forward to having a place of our own together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you all know the details once we have a closing date and all that.  It's in Bloomington.  Woo-hoo!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2569402169049742853?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2569402169049742853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2569402169049742853' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2569402169049742853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2569402169049742853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/12/house.html' title='House!!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7566383065499907058</id><published>2007-12-02T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T21:21:34.444-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it REALLY December?</title><content type='html'>We are having a good old THUNDERSTORM. In December. I love it. I wish it was snow, but I still love it. Wind. Rain. Thunder. Woo-hoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went Christmas shopping today. I found the COOLEST toy for me - I mean Yuki. It's a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fisher-Price® Imaginext™ Mega Spinosaurus &lt;a href="http://www.kohls.com/kohlsStore/toys/brandsfortoys/fisherprice/PRD~253776/FisherPrice+Imaginext+Mega+Spinosaurus+Gift+Set.jsp"&gt;see&lt;/a&gt; it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It moves. It roars. The eyes flash. In fact, it was SO cool, that I got something similar&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.kohls.com/kohlsStore/shopbyroom/playroom/playmats/PRD~253773/FisherPrice+Imaginext+Dinosaurs+with+Playmat.jsp"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for Jaisen. We'll leave it here for "safe keeping". They make cool noises and flap wings and stuff like that. I wish the pictures were better.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to Christmas music by Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra.  Ah, the holidays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7566383065499907058?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7566383065499907058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7566383065499907058' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7566383065499907058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7566383065499907058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/12/is-is-really-december.html' title='Is it REALLY December?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1770649519042334170</id><published>2007-11-28T11:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T11:09:09.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!</title><content type='html'>The stress!  The stress!  I'm paralyzed and can't do anything because I have too much to do!  Too many things pulling at me!   I wish I was an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ostrich&lt;/span&gt; and could put my head in the sand and pretend nothing is out of sorts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1770649519042334170?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1770649519042334170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1770649519042334170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1770649519042334170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1770649519042334170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.html' title='Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5091632920908356546</id><published>2007-11-25T16:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T17:18:12.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday - last day of vacation</title><content type='html'>And I'm actually looking forward to going back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we (Joe &amp;amp; I and his two sons and his grandson) went to Kentucky for the Paulley Thanksgiving. It was nice until the trip home. Joe was exhausted from work, Jaisen (grandson) was tired (no nap), and Josh was in rare angry form. The closer we got to home the worse it was. Josh says mean, wicked things about Jaisen's mom, right in front of Jaisen, and despite Joe telling him to let it go, he didn't. Jaisen's mom says mean and spiteful things about Josh in front of Jaisen too. They are both wrong, and Jaisen's the one that will suffer the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh is frustrated with his roommates and didn't want to go home. He asked if he could stay at our house and I shook my head no because Joe was so tired he could barely stand up. This threw Josh into a rage, and for the last 30 miles all he did was cuss and be obnoxious. In the end, Joe took him in his car so he could talk to him and had Billy and I take Jaisen to our house. Apparently he came down pretty hard on Josh. Which Josh needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ended up staying at our house anyway because Josh's roommates looked him out of their house. I just went to bed and let Joe deal with it. This morning he told Joe that he needed to move, but had no where to go. Joe told him he needed to figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to talk to Joe again and let him know there is no way Josh can live with us. He makes me feel all tight and angry and frustrated whenever I'm around him. He's lazy and won't do anything to help himself. Even worse than Sarah. Sarah is lazy too, but at least she'll work and is normally pretty nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blended families certainly have their challenges, even when the kids are (mostly) grown up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5091632920908356546?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5091632920908356546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5091632920908356546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5091632920908356546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5091632920908356546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/sunday-last-day-of-vacation.html' title='Sunday - last day of vacation'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1102782417333896449</id><published>2007-11-23T19:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T19:28:14.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BLACK FRIDAY</title><content type='html'>Today is Black Friday.  I was at the mall at 3 am.  But not for the reason you might think.  The pet care person where Joe works called in sick last night, and Joe had to go in at 3 am to clean the kennels, and all the other critter areas, as well as give shots and all that.  The mall opened at 6 for most stores, but some were open at 5:00 (like Target).  People are CRAZY.    There were people at the mall waiting for stores to open at 3:00 when we got there! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Joe and I did all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-open stuff at the pet store, and about 6:30, we went to breakfast at Chick-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fil&lt;/span&gt;-a.  They have a killer breakfast burrito.  Then Joe went back to work, and I thought, &lt;em&gt;Well, I'm already here.  I might as well go to Target and see what they have.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember now WHY I decided never to go shopping on Black Friday before afternoon.  I did it one other time a few years ago.  Apparently it's like having a baby.  Eventually the pain of childbirth recedes from your mind and you believe it wasn't so bad, and you can do it again.   Black Friday Early Morning is like that.   You forget how bad it was and decide to try it again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mall itself wasn't all that bad. Kinda like a busy weekend.  But Target was insane.  I didn't even get a cart, not that there were any available.  Even the days prior to school starting didn't touch how many people were in Target today.  It took me 10 minutes just to get from the door opening into the mall to the doors to the outside.  You know how it is.  People stopping in the isle to look, blocking everyone else from moving through.  One lady totally ran into me me with her cart from behind.  She didn't "see" me because she had a box in her cart that was taller than both of us.  When I did get to the isle leading to the outside I was confronted with the most amazing sight.    Carts.  Two rows of carts, going the entire length of the store and around the corner.   It would take at least one &amp;amp; half hours just waiting in line to get to the cash register.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally freed myself from the crush of humanity, I thought I was going to witness a massive accident between cars wanting my parking place.   I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;primo&lt;/span&gt; parking spot since I was one of the very first people at the mall.  I was so glad to get out of there!  I was so traumatized I couldn't even bring myself to go shopping the rest of the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully the pain will fade and I'll be able to at least shop in the afternoon next Black Friday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the Christmas Carols begin!  Black Friday is here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1102782417333896449?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1102782417333896449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1102782417333896449' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1102782417333896449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1102782417333896449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/black-friday.html' title='BLACK FRIDAY'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6336582356872209063</id><published>2007-11-22T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T20:23:14.198-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey Day</title><content type='html'>Day 4 into my vacation. How sad. The week went by so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's Turkey Day dinner went remarkably well. Joe and Sarah kicked in and helped a lot. Everyone got along. Joe's boys and Sarah cleaned up afterwards. Bobby Flay and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Emeril&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lagasse&lt;/span&gt; provided amazing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;recipes&lt;/span&gt;, as did Great Grandma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Erbes&lt;/span&gt;, my mom, Elizabeth, Kraft, Hunts and Libby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;The Menu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Adaptation of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Emeril&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lagasse&lt;/span&gt; recipe for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Turkey Breast &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Roulade&lt;/span&gt;, which is basically a turkey breast pounded out to an even thickness, topped with stuffing, rolled up jelly roll style, tied and roasted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Cornbread Dressing (recipe courtesy of Bobby Flay using fresh sage &amp;amp; thyme from Elizabeth).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Mashed potatoes (with authentic turkey gravy in a jar made by Hunts)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Macaroni and cheese (Kraft)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Corn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Grandma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Erbes&lt;/span&gt;' ice box rolls (actually her mother's recipe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Stir Fry **&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Pumpkin pie (recipe on the Libby can and my mom's homemade pie crust)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING. What the heck? There's no color in this menu! No green. No cranberry. In my family, no color is allowed for big, heavy meals. That way we can all pass out at 3:00 pm and sleep until 6:00 pm without any worry about some sort of healthy food getting in the way and giving us energy. We have to fight off that urge on holidays. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;**Sarah made stir fry. It's not a traditional item, I know. But she wanted to contribute, and when I asked her what she wanted to make, this is what she picked. It was quite spicy (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;eg&lt;/span&gt;, hot) BUT she used &lt;em&gt;whole wheat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;rotini&lt;/span&gt; noodles&lt;/em&gt;, which really verged on the edge of healthy, and even a little color. We'll have to watch out for her in the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6336582356872209063?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6336582356872209063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6336582356872209063' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6336582356872209063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6336582356872209063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/turkey-day.html' title='Turkey Day'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6378478594075104208</id><published>2007-11-15T21:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T22:14:15.087-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I a hippie, environmentalist, or an old lady?</title><content type='html'>A little background is necessary here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I make my own laundry detergent, use vinegar for fabric softener and in place of Jet Dry&lt;br /&gt;2. I use those cool reusable bags at the grocery store that are shaped like brown paper bags with handles but are made of a nylon material.&lt;br /&gt;3. I will tend to tell anyone about the above two things with little to no provocation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yesterday I went to the grocery store to pick up a couple of items, and took in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reusable&lt;/span&gt; bag. These have not really caught on yet, so even the checkout people tend to look at them like they are a tad scary. So I could tell the checkout woman was already judging me thinking I'm one of those &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;enviro&lt;/span&gt;"mental"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ist&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;people. To make it even more interesting, I was buying some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Fels&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Naptha&lt;/span&gt; to make my laundry soap.  As she was putting the soap into my bag, she paused and said, "Oh!  I thought this was body soap!"   I told her that no, it was what I use to make my own laundry soap.  I told her how to make it.  I couldn't help myself.  I'm sure she didn't care.  At all.  But she politely asked if it lasts a long time.  Goodness knows why.  But I began extolling the virtues of my soap, and how wonderful vinegar is as a fabric softener.   She politely nodded.   She handed me my receipt, I picked up bag and started to walk away.  And here's where she really blew it.  She said, "I don't use Downy.  I use those dryer sheets.  My kid puts 5 in at a time." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stop myself.  I turned around and walked back to her, and in front of the customer she was waiting on next, I said, "Then you really need to know this.  If you use fabric sheets, you need to make sure your lint trap is really clean.  Wash it.  Wash it with soap and water occasionally."  She looked at me like I was nuts.  Maybe I am.  But I knew I had her when I said, "Especially if your clothes don't dry the first time you run the dryer."  The light in her eyes told me that was happening.  I went on, "Dryer sheets cause a build up on your lint catcher and makes the dryer work much harder, and eventually can even cause a fire." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked away, I started laughing because suddenly I realized I am this conglomeration of stereotypes...  hippie, environmentalist, nosy old lady...    But you know, I like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6378478594075104208?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6378478594075104208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6378478594075104208' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6378478594075104208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6378478594075104208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/am-i-hippie-environmentalist-or-old.html' title='Am I a hippie, environmentalist, or an old lady?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6724595906148904819</id><published>2007-11-14T08:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T08:30:09.362-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clothing issues</title><content type='html'>I had the most horrid time finding something to wear today. It's not that I don't HAVE anything to wear. It's just that everything that is clean is either in need of some sort of repair or too wrinkled to wear without ironing, and I got up too late to iron. Heck. As it was, I was lucky my hair was dry by the time I got to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I finally (after sifting through the clothing in my closet at least 6 times) came across a blouse I bought this summer because "the price was right". I think I spent 7 bucks on it. It has a belt. I hate belts on shirts. But at the time, I thought, "Maybe it will be o.k. without a belt". Anyway, I brought the thing home and washed it. To my dismay, I found two more things not to like other than the belt. One, it cannot be pulled out of the dryer unwrinkled. It MUST be ironed. Undaunted, I ironed it. That's when I found the second thing. Part of the hem had come undone, and hung down. Completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;noticeable&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put the blouse away, telling myself I'd "fix" it. Well, today is the day. It was my only option without having to iron. I put it on. And this is what I did to fix it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I put some double sticky tape from my paper craft stuff on it to hold it together. Didn't even TOUCH it. Still hung down.&lt;br /&gt;-I got two safety pins. One I could put in without it being seen from the outside. The other showed a little bit of pin. When I got to work, I took some tape, folded it in a circle with the inside out, and taped my hem shut.&lt;br /&gt;-It that fails me later, I'll just staple it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I'll go to the craft store and get some $7.00 stitching witchery stuff that can be used to iron in a hem to make it stick. That will double the cost of this blouse though, and considering the fact that I have to iron it, it may not be worth the cost. Tape and safety pins seem to be working fine so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me that $7.00 for a one-time-wear blouse that I don't even really like might not be a bad thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6724595906148904819?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6724595906148904819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6724595906148904819' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6724595906148904819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6724595906148904819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/clothing-issues.html' title='Clothing issues'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2825556678549194731</id><published>2007-11-14T07:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T08:10:33.569-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Addendum</title><content type='html'>This is a clarification of the previous blog.   Apparently some people (Joe) thought I was being serious about my husband's (Joe) inability to stay warm, and goading me into trying to take a shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire blog was meant as a thinly veiled jab at my own impending menopause &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;precipitated&lt;/span&gt; by hot flashes that require cooler temperatures in the house.   Once I explained to Joe what I meant he thought it was pretty funny, but pointed out that the only one's that would "get" it were probably my mom and my sister, who are better &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;acquainted&lt;/span&gt; with my sense of humor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.  All spelled out for those who are not fortunate enough to be a woman or know my sense of humor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2825556678549194731?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2825556678549194731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2825556678549194731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2825556678549194731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2825556678549194731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/addendum.html' title='Addendum'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4601309927205332851</id><published>2007-11-13T08:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T08:16:37.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exploring new frontiers of aging</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;I'm not the aging one (ah-hem), it's Joe.  I swear.  Suddenly, he has to have it so hot in the house that I sweat.  He lays there in bed with all the covers around him shivering like it's 30 degrees outside, and I'm laying there kicking off the covers and not able to sleep because I'm so hot.  What's wrong with that man?  Who in their right mind wants to have the house at 68-70 degrees when 60-65 is much more comfortable???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;And, suddenly, he's a smarty-pants.  "Honey, why don't you go take a shower?"   &lt;em&gt;No&lt;/em&gt;.  "Why not, that always makes ME feel better?"  &lt;em&gt;Are you telling me I stink? &lt;/em&gt; "No, but you're sweating and a little grumpy."  &lt;em&gt;EXCUSE ME?  I am NOT grumpy.  Back off, buddy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Joe seems a little baffled by his new need for a warmer home.  Maybe he should go to the doctor and see if he needs a hormone adjustment.  Poor guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4601309927205332851?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4601309927205332851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4601309927205332851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4601309927205332851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4601309927205332851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/exploring-new-frontiers-of-aging.html' title='Exploring new frontiers of aging'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-990699342228931017</id><published>2007-11-05T10:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T10:14:16.274-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What the heck?</title><content type='html'>This guy on my team at work just quit.  This is the first time I can ever remember being mad about someone quitting. What a crappy time of year to quit.  As I have mentioned before, we have to close more claims than we open during the course of a year, which seems like a paradox, but that's the way it is.  Our team will get all his claims.  He has 90 claims and there are 5 of us left, which means we will all get around 18 more claims.  There is freaking no way I can make my 100% closing now.  He should have at least tried to stay until January. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a bright side to this story, though.  Since he is leaving before December 31, he will lose the discretionary match given to us by the company.  It will go to us.  Too bad it doesn't all go to our team instead of being spread out around the company.  =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-990699342228931017?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/990699342228931017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=990699342228931017' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/990699342228931017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/990699342228931017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-heck.html' title='What the heck?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3440691169809783291</id><published>2007-11-04T08:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T08:45:33.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice reminder of summer...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Ry3M3lGfVnI/AAAAAAAAABU/l6GPNF0xl2Q/s1600-h/040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128980805869065842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Ry3M3lGfVnI/AAAAAAAAABU/l6GPNF0xl2Q/s400/040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7389356-3440691169809783291?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3440691169809783291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3440691169809783291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3440691169809783291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3440691169809783291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/nice-reminder-of-summer.html' title='Nice reminder of summer...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Ry3M3lGfVnI/AAAAAAAAABU/l6GPNF0xl2Q/s72-c/040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1143123000206791990</id><published>2007-11-04T08:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T08:34:11.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wonderful Sunday Paper</title><content type='html'>I love the Sunday paper.  I sit down on my couch, turn on the news, gather the paper and my coffee and sit down for a wonderful interlude with my inner-shopper.   Normally I read the headlines on the first page just to build anticipation for the ads.    Today, I got sucked in by an interesting article about Opera, and why I should go.  It made me actually want to attend an opera performance, and you know what?  I just might.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.  The REAL reason I get the paper at ALL is for the Wednesday food columns, the Saturday TV guide and the Sunday ads.    (Joe reads the paper faithfully every single day while sitting in his "office".  I'll leave it to you to determine where his "office" is.  I subscribed to the paper for "Joe" for his birthday because he loves the paper.  But I get the secret benefit of the Sunday ads.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I said, I look at all the pretty ads, on shiny paper, in color, and try to determine just what it is that I can't live without at Target and Michael's this week.  Then I look at all the grocery coupons.  About 1/2 the time I tear out the coupons I think I might use.  About 98% of the time I forget to take whatever coupons I tear out to the grocery store with me.   Of the 2% of the time I DO take the coupons with me, many times I find another brand of the item cheaper and don't use it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what?  It's only 2 weeks until the Holy Grail of newspaper ads come out.  We all know it...its the ads for BLACK FRIDAY.   The day after Thanksgiving, when the most incredible deals of the year are advertised.  I carefully look at the ads, determine if there is anything I think is worth going for, and plan my attack.   If there's anything SERIOUSLY cool, like a DVD player for $20.00, a digital camera  for a mere $5.00, or a computer for $150 for the first 10 people through the door, I'm willing to stand in line starting at ... oh, 6:45 am, which obviously means I'm going to miss out on the $15o computer because there are idiots out there that stand in line all night long just to be the first in the door when it opens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, I have only done that one year.  Joe and I got up early and stood outside of Wal-mart waiting to get some serious deals.  And we did.  But we risked our lives.  People are crazy on Black Friday.  They will run over you with their cart, yank Cabbage Patch kids right out of your hands, knock you over to get at the last $5.00 digital camera.  It's scary.  So, I wait until around 9 or 10 when the hard core "crazies" are out of the way.  It's still crowded, but all the $20 DVD players, $5.00 cameras and $150 computers are gone, so no one is willing to maim or kill by mid-morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 days and counting!   Black Friday cometh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1143123000206791990?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1143123000206791990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1143123000206791990' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1143123000206791990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1143123000206791990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/wonderful-sunday-paper.html' title='The Wonderful Sunday Paper'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-5480147081322529521</id><published>2007-11-01T16:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T16:59:06.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>May I complain?</title><content type='html'>I know I rarely talk about my family and how annoying they are - I mean, how lovely they are, but I need an ear here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;deep&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting at work, happily evaluating &lt;em&gt;other &lt;/em&gt;people's problems and deciding the fate of their claims.  The cell phone rings, but I'm helping another person with their problems, and can't answer.  A couple of minutes go by and the cell phone rings again, and I thought to myself, "Oh, crap.  What now?"  Against my better judgement, I answered the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess who?  Sarah.  "Mom.  I think my truck got stolen or towed."  &lt;sigh&gt;  So.  she left her truck at an apartment complex where there are signs EVERYWHERE advising cars will be towed that don't belong to residents etc etc etc.  She left her truck there in a resident parking space.  And she's surprised it was towed? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was all for letting her swing in the wind until she got the money to get it herself, but the tow facility charges $15 per day storage.   Joe &amp;amp; I shelled out the $105.00 to get her truck out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, Sarah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-5480147081322529521?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/5480147081322529521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=5480147081322529521' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5480147081322529521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/5480147081322529521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/11/may-i-complain.html' title='May I complain?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7049367277747479378</id><published>2007-10-30T14:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T14:29:13.497-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Management</title><content type='html'>On a whim (well, not REALLY a whim, my review said I should take a course in time management...) I signed up for a course on-line for &lt;em&gt;Time Management&lt;/em&gt;. While my review suggested I do this on THIS year's review, I actually signed up for the course over a year ago, but ... didn't have time to finish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the whim, I decided to actually work on the course, so I could tell my boss I did something. I'm on the first exercise, which is writing down EVERY TIME I CHANGE tasks at work, and the time. Example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:15 am. Sign on and work diary&lt;br /&gt;7:30 am. Work Que&lt;br /&gt;7:40 am. Bid on e-bay for Dan (my boss, and this is true)&lt;br /&gt;7:42 am. Go get coffee with Dan and listen to the story of the day&lt;br /&gt;7:52 am. Work Que&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at the end of a week, you tally up all the time you spend on various tasks, and identify areas where we can use our time more effectively and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;efficiently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I think one of the biggest time-eaters is my supervisor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today is day 2 of the record keeping. Interestingly, since I know I'm tracking things, I'm magically better already. Whereas most days I have to move most of my "diaries" from today to tomorrow, yesterday and today both I have managed to wade through the entire day's diaries. I've even returned all my phone calls and that alone is a &lt;strong&gt;miracle&lt;/strong&gt;. I usually don't get to my phone calls until 4-5 days later, sometimes even more. And finally, I've been able to get through all my mail both days. Holy cow! This tracking is amazing. It even accounts for lots of wasted time, like typing this blog at work. I started the blog at 2:18 pm. I wrote it in my log. I don't even feel (too) guilty because all my phone calls are returned, all my diaries are current and all my mail is done. I have an hour and a half to go before my day is done here. AMAZING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to see what happens in the rest of the course. Who knows what I might accomplish with all that extra time I'll find!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7049367277747479378?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7049367277747479378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7049367277747479378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7049367277747479378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7049367277747479378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/time-management.html' title='Time Management'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6501701803570053809</id><published>2007-10-22T21:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T21:24:21.738-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Men vs Women</title><content type='html'>Oh yeah!  I forgot to tell you I got my hair cut.  It's very short in the back and gradually gets longer as you go to the top of my head.  The top is maybe 2 inches.  Then at the sides right in front of my ears, it's as long as it used to be (chin length).  I love it.  I think it's really cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me just say that EVERY SINGLE WOMAN at work (that commented on it) has said they love my hair.  Not ONE SINGLE MAN has said that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;Women&lt;/span&gt;:  "Oh my gosh!  I love your hair!  It's so cute and looks great on you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;Men&lt;/span&gt;:  Blank stares, or if anything, "You got a haircut."  That INCLUDES my husband.  I think he was really disappointed that I got my hair cut off.  He says he likes it now that he's getting used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is PROOF that there is a difference between men and women.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6501701803570053809?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6501701803570053809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6501701803570053809' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6501701803570053809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6501701803570053809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/men-vs-women.html' title='Men vs Women'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3302317455822346388</id><published>2007-10-21T21:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T21:44:23.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What else is happening?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Rxv8eE9M-AI/AAAAAAAAABM/R1_oPrVpokA/s1600-h/Eliz+Family+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123966594720790530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Rxv8eE9M-AI/AAAAAAAAABM/R1_oPrVpokA/s320/Eliz+Family+019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Rxv8NE9M9_I/AAAAAAAAABE/qSto6bqRbBE/s1600-h/Eliz+Family+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Yesterday I went up to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; and the kids. I cannot BELIEVE how much Ella has grown in just a couple of weeks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Here's a picture of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; in his favorite outfit.  That hanger is his "gun".  He runs through the house, "&lt;em&gt;Bang, bang!!"  &lt;/em&gt;Love the boots.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So here's the latest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;debacle&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; was playing with his cars in the living room.  Last year he got a "garage" (I think you can see it in the background of the picture) for Christmas.  It came with little matchbox type cars.  He had them all gathered around him.  Eventually, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; noticed he was taking a car with him (she assumed to his room) and coming back without it.  She became suspicious, and asked him where the cars were.   He had been flushing them down the toilet!   This is not his first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;foray&lt;/span&gt; into flushing stuff down the toilet.  A couple of months ago, he flushed his toothbrush down (and goodness knows what else) and plugged up the toilet so badly that Matt had to take the toilet off the floor to get the toothbrush out.    So, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; got his first ever "spanking".  Elizabeth told him she was going to spank him and asked him if he knew why.  He seemed to understand, but of course there was no trepidation because he'd never been spanked before.  Afterwards, as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; was hugging him and comforting him, he said, "You hurt my butt!"  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;It will be interesting to see if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; refrains from flushing things from now on.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Maybe I should spank Sarah.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;HAHAHAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/7389356-3302317455822346388?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3302317455822346388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3302317455822346388' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3302317455822346388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3302317455822346388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-else-is-happening.html' title='What else is happening?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/Rxv8eE9M-AI/AAAAAAAAABM/R1_oPrVpokA/s72-c/Eliz+Family+019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1923406549029389772</id><published>2007-10-21T21:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T21:13:49.571-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Princess Returns</title><content type='html'>Sarah is safely home.  I told her she has 6 months to figure out what she's doing.  If she is going to school she can stay as long as she wants to.  If she is not in school, she needs to start saving money, because she's not going to be living here.  She agreed that was reasonable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other condition was no drugs in the house.  I know I'm not going to be able to stop her from doing whatever she wants to when she isn't home, but &lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt; I need assurance that she won't do anything illegal in the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tomorrow&lt;/em&gt; would be a good day to start looking for a job, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1923406549029389772?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1923406549029389772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1923406549029389772' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1923406549029389772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1923406549029389772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/princess-returns.html' title='The Princess Returns'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-7990669182505295568</id><published>2007-10-17T08:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T08:16:47.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah is coming home part II</title><content type='html'>Sigh.  I buy the ticket to Denver.  I call a supervisor and wade through all the explanations to get the rest of the week off.  I pack.  I transfer money from savings to checking.  I try to sleep.  10:30.  11:00.  11:30.  Still awake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:30ish.  I get a text from Sarah.  "Andy is coming home now.  I am buying his bus ticket.  Can he catch a bus from Denver?  I don't know how buses work.  Sigh.  I am frustrated."  &lt;em&gt;SHE'S frustrated??????&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call her.  Tickets are $149.00 from Denver.  Is he coming home for sure?  Yes, he is.  O.K. let me see if I can cancel my plane ticket and get some money back and you two ride home together.  Agreed.  I can tell she isn't happy about having to put up with Andy for 2 more days, but I'm not burning 3 days of vacation, spending $400-500 to drive back with her if he's coming back anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, Travelocity said they would refund my entire ticket amount minus the service fee.  Sometime in the next 30 BUSINESS days.   That's better than nothing, that's for sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really kinda wish I could have gone.  It would have been fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-7990669182505295568?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/7990669182505295568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=7990669182505295568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7990669182505295568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/7990669182505295568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/sarah-is-coming-home-part-ii.html' title='Sarah is coming home part II'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6117430154487004982</id><published>2007-10-16T21:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T21:48:48.999-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah's coming home</title><content type='html'>Sarah called.  She's wondering why she's where she is, why she didn't stay in school, why she took her loser boyfriend on the adventure of a lifetime and she feels like such a loser.  She said, "I wish I was home."  I said, "Then come home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on my way in to give blood (and save 3 peoples lives) so I told her I'd call her back later.  After giving blood, coming home, and taking a nap, I get around to calling her back.  She's crying.  I ask what's wrong, and she says, she's coming home and andy is mad at her.  She's leaving tomorrow.  Andy's not coming with her.  (!)  yippee!!!!   Andy's not coming with her!!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's afraid about driving back alone, worried about falling asleep on the road, scared about being alone in rest stops.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I check on-line, and can get a decent ticket to Denver.  I ask her if she can get to the denver airport, and if she can I'll fly in and ride back with her.  She is very relieved about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called one of the supervisors and asked permission to take off work, and he said o.k.  So, I made the reservation and will fly out tomorrow.  SHE BETTER NOT BACK OUT or she's in serious trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm excited about seeing her and having the time alone with her on the way back.  I'm not excited about the trip back in her pickup with an uncomfortable passenger seat and the constant worry about breakdowns.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll update when I get back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6117430154487004982?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6117430154487004982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6117430154487004982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6117430154487004982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6117430154487004982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/sarahs-coming-home.html' title='Sarah&apos;s coming home'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1386956230633512543</id><published>2007-10-16T08:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T08:57:12.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Revenge of Yuki and Sofi</title><content type='html'>Elizabeth has her hands full.  Literally.  While she's trapped in the rocking chair nursing Ella, Yuki and Sofi are free to roam the house and do whatever they please while mom is momentarily indisposed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were ages 3 and 2, what would YOU do with this kind of unfettered freedom?  I'm not sure what I'D do, but, I can tell you what Yuki and Sofi do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Get Dad's shaving cream and walk around the parts of the house mom can't see you, and spray it everywhere you walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Get blue shampoo, drain the almost full bottle on the carpet outside the bathroom and in Sofi's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Get baby lotion, proceed to spread it all over Yuki, and on his walls and in his carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Get a tube of Lamisil (similar in texture to petroleum jelly) and see how much you can get in Sofi's hair and whatever other interesting surfaces are around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*  Fill the bathroom sink with water while "brushing my teeth", and continue to let the water run and run and run, while splashing water everywhere and ignoring mom.  Mom is yelling "TURN OFF THE WATER NOW!!!" but who can hear her over the sound of running water and splashing? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, these are all &lt;em&gt;separate events&lt;/em&gt; that happened over a weeks time.  I'm thinking every time Ella nurses, should be "time out, on the couch, don't move your rears from there until I say so" time for Yuki and Sofi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think these things are pretty funny, but then, I'm not the one trapped in the rocker, helplessly wondering what they are doing now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1386956230633512543?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1386956230633512543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1386956230633512543' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1386956230633512543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1386956230633512543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/revenge-of-yuki-and-sofi.html' title='The Revenge of Yuki and Sofi'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-474177267621263610</id><published>2007-10-12T15:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T15:43:41.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The adventures of Sarah</title><content type='html'>Sarah is still roaming the wild west.  She left my brother Don's sanctuary and headed for Colorado.  Don and Sue filled her tank before she left.  She had a few bucks, some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt; gift certs and food that Sue sent along with her.  Next stop...some rest area where they spent a cold and uncomfortable night in the truck.  Too cold and windy for setting up the tent, and it even snowed a little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onward to Vail, Colorado.  Where the truck lost all the lights on the instrument panel, they had no gas, and no money, and only a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt; bucks left.  Call to Mom.  "Gee, honey.  That's too bad.  What are you going to do now?"  Move on to the next day, truck is working again now, some sort of miracle because they didn't do anything to it.  And, hey!  They met some guy at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt; and asked him if there was a place they could camp for free.  Well, no, it's supposed to snow tonight, but you can come stay with us for a couple of days.  So, off they go with this kid, who lives with a bunch of other guys.   They have been staying there and a couple of other places until she gets some money to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold up.  Where are you going to get money?  I got a credit card, and they can transfer money into my bank account for ZERO interest.  Uh-huh.  I believe that, for sure.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this!  As I was typing this post, Sarah calls.  They are now in Winter Park, their ultimate destination.  I don't know how she got there, since the money from the credit card just hit her account this morning, but she's there.  She wants to know what the expiration date on her credit card is because they want to rent a hotel for the night.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;.  Her job (if she really has one) doesn't start until November 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  I don't know HOW she thinks she is going to be able to pay for a credit card bill in 28 days from now, when she won't even be working yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm over it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She needs to get real about life.  She's going to fall, and fall hard.  I hope she can pick up the pieces and move on with her life when that happens.  My sister says she feels Sarah will be fine and that she will have a relationship with God some day.  I'm hanging my hat on that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-474177267621263610?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/474177267621263610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=474177267621263610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/474177267621263610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/474177267621263610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/adventures-of-sarah.html' title='The adventures of Sarah'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2266727442111207143</id><published>2007-10-06T16:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T17:03:04.303-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New baby and various other items</title><content type='html'>Eleanor Charlotte &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hilligoss&lt;/span&gt; was born on October 1, 2007, at 3:34 pm, weighing in at 7 lbs 2 oz, and 19.5 inches long.  They will call her Ella.  All this time it was going to be Elli, until Elizabeth heard a woman (that she doesn't like) across the street calling her dog and the name was Ellie.  That was it for the name Elli.  I like Ella better anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The delivery was incredible.  She made it look like something she does every day, no big deal.  One - yes, ONE push.  That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Ella was all cleaned up and Elizabeth settled in, she nursed right away, just like an old pro.  No problems at all.   So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; is sitting there all content, and says, "I think I like this baby."  Matt and I just cracked up.  When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sofi&lt;/span&gt; was born, she wouldn't nurse, cried all the time, made everyone so miserable WE all cried, too.  I Elizabeth said, "I don't like this baby."  (Of course she does NOW, but at the time...)   Matt and I were relieved to hear this baby would be accepted into the family with no problems.   So far, we have had 3 sleepless nights since Elizabeth came home.  It will be interesting to see if Elizabeth still likes the baby if she continues to insist on being held - and only by mom - all night &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;every night&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, was Joe &amp;amp; my first anniversary.  Today, we are spending the night in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Plainfield&lt;/span&gt;, close to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt;, and will be going out to a nice dinner.  What a nice break.   This afternoon we both went to the local mall and bought new tennis shoes.  Tennis shoes?  Do they even call them that anymore?  Athletic shoes.  Not that we are athletic or anything like that, but we don't play tennis either, so I don't think it really matters what we call them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting hungry.  Time to head out for a lovely steak dinner.    Maybe tomorrow I'll write about the adventures of my wayward daughter Sarah.   Stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2266727442111207143?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2266727442111207143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2266727442111207143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2266727442111207143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2266727442111207143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/new-baby-and-various-other-items.html' title='New baby and various other items'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2810150400731564563</id><published>2007-10-06T16:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T16:43:02.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More cute "Yuki-isms"</title><content type='html'>*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; when presented with baked beans "I can't like that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Elizabeth put a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;caterpillar&lt;/span&gt; in his hand, and when it moved, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; squished it, and then was very upset that he killed it.  His comment?  "I'm sorry the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;caterpillar&lt;/span&gt; tickled my hand.  That's not safe!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*While watching Elizabeth nursing Ella the first time, "Why is she biting you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*While watching Elizabeth nursing Ella another time, "There's milk in there?  How does it get there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so cute and funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2810150400731564563?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2810150400731564563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2810150400731564563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2810150400731564563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2810150400731564563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/more-cute-yuki-isms.html' title='More cute &quot;Yuki-isms&quot;'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2555690464538752843</id><published>2007-10-01T09:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T09:32:54.924-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the day!!</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh I'm a nervous wreck.  I woke up at 4 am, just wide awake, and couldn't go back to sleep.  Finally, at about 5 am, I got up, balanced my checking account, checked to make sure all the 1st of the month bills are paid and then checked out my e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6:00 am , Elizabeth called and said she was in labor.  She has been in labor since last night.  The contractions are strong enough to wake her up and she's been up since...4:00 am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she tells me she's going to wait for the doc office to open at &lt;em&gt;8:00 am&lt;/em&gt; and call the doctor.  **8:00!**.  Two hours later.  After being in labor all night.  I tell her to please pay attention to her body and maybe she should just start driving now.  No.  She wants to take a shower, get the kids ready and then she'll call the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I go to work to get some stuff done.  At 8:15, I haven't heard anything, so I call her.  Matt answers.  The doctor doesn't get in until 9:00 am, so she's going to wait until then to call and start to B'ton.  OMG!  I ask where she is now.  She's in the SHOWER!  (So I can't talk to her and tell her to get her butt in the car and start driving).  I tell Matt to tell Eliz to get in the car as soon as she's out of the shower and start driving.  They can call the doctor on the way.  It takes 45 minutes to get here.  The contractions are around 5-8 minutes apart.  ARGH!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:15.  I call.  Matt answers.  "Where are you? "  " We are getting in the van now."    "What did the doctor say?"  "He said to come to the office &lt;em&gt;if you think you can make &lt;/em&gt;it but if not go to the hospital."  (my emphasis there)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say o.k.  Call me when you get south of Martinsville and I'll come meet them at home (or the doctor or the hospital or where ever they need me). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous and excited and praying that that baby won't be born in the van on the way to Bloomington...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2555690464538752843?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2555690464538752843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2555690464538752843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2555690464538752843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2555690464538752843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/10/today-is-day.html' title='Today is the day!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6895913256000261095</id><published>2007-09-25T09:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T09:20:56.337-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drum roll....</title><content type='html'>I was lonely at work.  So I decided to get a beta for my desk.  He's a very pretty blue with some shades of deep red.  Gorgeous fish.  I typically don't name my pets, other than dogs &amp;amp; cats.  For some reason, though, I usually name the pets I bring to work.  (This is not the first beta I've had here.  I had "Blue Boy" - named after the famous painting - for 3 years.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, one day, as I was trying to think of a name for him, I said out loud, "What should I name my new beta?"  From the cubical next to me I hear my boss say, "Alpha".  What a great name!  So I made a little sign that says "Alpha Beta", and the greek letters for same, and stuck it above my fishes tank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?  Watching fish is calming, and can make you smarter.  And with a name like Alpha (the beginning), this is just the beginning of the brilliance that will be mine after watching Alpha day in and day out while blogging, er I mean slogging, through the day at work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6895913256000261095?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6895913256000261095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6895913256000261095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6895913256000261095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6895913256000261095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/drum-roll.html' title='Drum roll....'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6337874543353216260</id><published>2007-09-21T08:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T12:39:09.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/RvaWcE9M9-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/JD-wD5HgegU/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113439836036724706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/RvaWcE9M9-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/JD-wD5HgegU/s320/039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so glad it's Friday I could dance. My goal for the day (right after I get done posting this) is to get through about 40 diaries (um-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;), make about 46 phone calls (uh...), and answer my boss's 9 e-mails. THEN, I'm going to go home and not think about work for TWO DAYS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth is due next Wednesday. I can hardly wait for little Elli to come into our lives. The entire family came over last Wednesday, and while Matt &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Eliz&lt;/span&gt; went to the doctor, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sofi&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; I hung out. Whenever they come over, I give them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Popsicles&lt;/span&gt;. So, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; says, "Can we have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Popsicle&lt;/span&gt;, Grandma? I want Orange!" I say, sure, and look in the freezer in the EMPTY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Popsicle&lt;/span&gt; box. I show them it is empty, but say, "I have cookies! I have white cookies and black cookies. Which do you want?" I hear an emphatic, "WHITE COOKIES!" So I pick up the package - the EMPTY package, and say, "OH OH - the package is empty! Someone ate all the white cookies!" I see disappointment on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Yuki's&lt;/span&gt; face. Before he can utter, "I want some cookies, damn it!" I show him we have LOTS of black cookies (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Oreos&lt;/span&gt;), and he seems somewhat mollified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TGIF (again).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6337874543353216260?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6337874543353216260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6337874543353216260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6337874543353216260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6337874543353216260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/tgif.html' title='TGIF'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/RvaWcE9M9-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/JD-wD5HgegU/s72-c/039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-778596024497542427</id><published>2007-09-18T19:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T19:52:05.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Secret is Out</title><content type='html'>Sarah knows about Mama the dog now. What a relief. It was very hard to tell her. But, the family Mama is with love her. Her name is no longer Mama. It's &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ROCKET&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Rocket because she's so &lt;em&gt;FAST&lt;/em&gt;. It sounds like a good match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah is at Don's house now. She sounded VERY relieved. Don sounded stressed. I hope this will be a good thing for everyone involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a very sad and weepy day. I wanted to take this afternoon off so I could sit at home and have a pity party, but too many people were gone and my boss said no. This is probably a good thing, really. I got a lot of stuff done this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth comes down tomorrow to the doctor. She is now "officially" at term. She tells me her back has been killing her and she thinks she may be having "back labor" but she'll ask the doctor tomorrow. Picture me rolling my eyes here. I kindly say, "Elizabeth, pay attention to your body and and if the pain doesn't go away, call the doctor and see if you need to come to the hospital." She giggles and says, "OK, Mom". Like I'm so stupid for even thinking she may actually be IN LABOR. She only has an HOUR to get to the hospital from where she lives. Kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings to mind a story from Sofi's birth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2005/08/new-baby-and-drama.html"&gt;http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2005/08/new-baby-and-drama.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there's some really cool way to make it so I could say "Click here" and it would take you right to the story, but I don't know what it is. Someday I'll ask Sam...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-778596024497542427?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/778596024497542427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=778596024497542427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/778596024497542427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/778596024497542427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/secret-is-out.html' title='The Secret is Out'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1715147050139668451</id><published>2007-09-16T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T11:40:21.604-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuki gets creative</title><content type='html'>This morning at breakfast:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuki:          Mommy, my spoon said "Damn it".&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth:  Yuki, you do NOT say that word!&lt;br /&gt;Yuki:          Why not?&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth:    Because it's not a nice word.&lt;br /&gt;Yuki:                But my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;spoon&lt;/span&gt; said it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1715147050139668451?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1715147050139668451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1715147050139668451' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1715147050139668451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1715147050139668451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/yuki-gets-creative.html' title='Yuki gets creative'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-4619659038334101233</id><published>2007-09-16T09:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T09:49:18.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty Conscience</title><content type='html'>Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the deal.  When Sarah left for California.  She asked me if I would keep her dog, Mama until she got back.  She said if I didn't want to, one of her friends would watch her if we would pay for her dog food (!).  I told her we'd see how it goes for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has not asked about Mama one single time since she's been gone.   Mama, meanwhile, is getting more and more excited and full of nervous energy since she doesn't get the exercise she was.  She barks, literally bounces off the furniture and is entirely too big for our "small dog" townhouse.  She has to be kennelled all night and most of the day.  How unfair.  She tears the house up if we don't kennel her when we are gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I decided that she needs a home elsewhere.   At lunch on Friday, I mentioned to 3 of my co-workers that I'm going to find a home for Mama.  Before I knew it, one of my co-workers said they have been looking for a dog for their family.  He called his wife, and wa-la, a done deal.  I took Mama over to his house.  It's HUGE.  With a HUGE back yard to run in.  Better yet, with two boys, ages 6 &amp;amp; 8 who adored her immediately and were so excited to have her they were beside themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the one hand, she's going to be so much happier now.  On the other, I wasn't REALLY ready to do this, and I haven't said anything to Sarah.   So, I'm really torn about the whole thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Butch is certainly happier.  And the house is MUCH calmer.   And ... I miss her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-4619659038334101233?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/4619659038334101233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=4619659038334101233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4619659038334101233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/4619659038334101233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/guilty-conscience.html' title='Guilty Conscience'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-9055145691450771588</id><published>2007-09-13T08:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T08:38:10.085-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I know what you're thinking</title><content type='html'>You are thinking "Who cares about other insignificant events, what about the SPIDERS?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen a single spider since I sprayed Raid around the doors and windows and foundation. Not one.  For that matter, I haven't seen any other bugs, either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem solved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-9055145691450771588?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/9055145691450771588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=9055145691450771588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9055145691450771588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9055145691450771588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-know-what-youre-thinking.html' title='I know what you&apos;re thinking'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-9143953373390634993</id><published>2007-09-11T20:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T21:04:50.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's go to Kentucky!</title><content type='html'>No early morning calls from Sarah today, which is good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to work this morning, went to the kitchen, grabbed my first cup of coffee for the day and didn't even get to drink it. By 8:15 am I was on my way to Kentucky to investigate a fatality. If I could have picked a day to go, today would have been the day. It was gorgeous outside. The weather was perfect. I stopped at McDonalds, grabbed a coffee there and headed over the river into the Land of...what is Kentucky the land of? To my husband (who is from Kentucky) it's the land of the Wild Cats. To me, it brings to mind one of the hardest tests I've ever had to take in my insurance career. Holy cow. An adjuster has to really know his/her stuff to be licensed in Kentucky. I have licenses in Connecticut, West Virginia, &amp; Rhode Island but none of those hold a candle to the Kentucky test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of things I need to point out about that test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The study materials are FULL of misspellings and errors. Even some of the practice test questions have incorrect answers.&lt;br /&gt;2. There aren't very many large cities in Kentucky. Like southern Indiana, once you get outside of the "city" you are truly in hillbilly country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This begs the following questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Did anyone in Louisville or Lexington proof read the materials?&lt;br /&gt;2. If I answer the question correctly on the actual test will I get it wrong if the answer is wrong in the study questions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong. there are many nice people in Kentucky (and Southern Indiana). But I seriously doubt if many of them could pass this test. Heck. There are people in my company with college degrees that had to take it 3 times before they passed. Luckily, I have uncanny test taking skills, and I've passed all my licensing tests the first time. Which brings me to another quick story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had 7 "educational" sessions where I work to learn how to investigate accidents over a period of the last 7 months.  After the last session, we had to take a test so the "big boys" would know we were paying attention, and prove that we learned something. (Interestingly, I passed, my boss didn't. HAHAHA!) Did I do any of those things I learned at the scene today? Ummmmm...I took photos. It was a SERIOUS waste of my time to go today. There was an attorney, a reconstruction guy from Canada, and independent adjuster, and me, all tripping over each other. The attorney talked to the driver and I got to ask a couple of questions. The independent adjuster will get the witness statement. The recon guy will do a very detailed analysis of the vehicles and the scene. So, I took some pictures. I stood around and admired the nice day and talked to the tow driver, ate at McDonalds twice, listened to almost an entire book on tape on the drive there and back, and will get paid for driving about 350 miles in my personal auto. All in all, not a bad deal for a day out of the office.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-9143953373390634993?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/9143953373390634993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=9143953373390634993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9143953373390634993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9143953373390634993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/lets-go-to-kentucky.html' title='Let&apos;s go to Kentucky!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-6627703773894876418</id><published>2007-09-10T10:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T10:09:18.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Only the young...</title><content type='html'>Sarah went to a concert in Chicago on Friday night with some friends. She got home at 6 am, and I didn't see her until about 3:30 or so Saturday when I got home from grocery shopping. She was cleaning out her truck. It must have been bad because I saw several trash bags leaving the cab of her truck.&lt;br /&gt;After we put away groceries and she finished cleaning out her truck, we sat down together on the couch, and she informed me that she was "going to California". She said she met two kids her age at a party, who have been hitching from Michigan, down the East coast, and over to Bloomington. They apparently stayed with people along the way and cooked and cleaned for R&amp;B. Sarah told them she'd drive them out to California, since they wanted to go out West. So, I asked her when she was leaving. "Today." "No." "Yes." "Nooooo." "Yes." She cried and told me she needs to do SOMETHING with her life and she will never get this opportunity again.&lt;br /&gt;So, off she went with these two people. Andy found out she was going at the last minute and begged to come as well. She left with a loaf of bread, some turkey &amp;amp; cheese, chips and Gatorade with $100.00 and a 1/4 tank of gas. (The 'travelers' are allegedly paying for gas.) She took a skirt, the jeans she was wearing, 5 pairs of underwear and several t-shirts with her. She said when she is done in California she'll go to Colorado to work in a ski resort. She left to go say goodbye to friends and I cried like a baby for an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter: Jon. Eliz called Jon and told him Sarah's plans (she asked Sarah if it was o.k. first). Jon calls Sarah, and for whatever reason, Sarah answered. First words out of Jon's mouth is "F-you!!" Imagine him yelling at her for 20 minutes with every other word the f-bomb and telling her what a loser she is, and that he's going to send a body bag out that way because she'll need it to come back in once they find her dead/raped/mutilated body by the side of the road. He told her if she left Indiana that night he'd never speak to her again. She challenged him on that and asked if he really wanted to make that ultimatum. He said "F-yes" and then hung up on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah calls me, hysterical. Now, Jon is an A*s-hole we can all agree. But if nothing else, his call shook her up enough that I was able to ask her to please call my brother Don and see if she can come out there and live and if he would find a job for her. She did (thank God) and he told her he could get her a job at any ski resort in northern Nevada, and would find something for her to do before the season starts. He told her she'd have to sign a contract that she would stay through April. So, I feel better, she feels better, she has a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She left at 12:30 early Sunday morning. I talked to her once and she was in Kansas. She said she'd call me today and let me know where they are. She did. She called me at 2:30 am, told me that they blew a tire, and were in Mesa Colorado (which is close to the Utah border). Andy was insisting they get a hotel room. She has $70.00. He has $150.00. I told her just to sleep as long as she possibly could so they would be rested and start out again today. She'll need to buy a tire. Apparently, Andy has a buddy that owes him $$ and they were going to call him and have him bring it to me today so I can deposit it into her account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I think it would be fun to do what she is doing, but not with $100, no clothes, no food, no idea where I'm going and certainly not with 4 people in an S-10. A little planning would have been good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-6627703773894876418?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/6627703773894876418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=6627703773894876418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6627703773894876418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/6627703773894876418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/only-young.html' title='Only the young...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1956073187399299305</id><published>2007-09-08T12:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T12:45:49.285-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Flaming Lips Girl Made It Home</title><content type='html'>I haven't seen her yet, but her truck's here. I don't see any new dents or scratches on her vehicle, so all must have gone well.  She got up long enough to let Mama out of her room at around 11:00 am, but she didn't make an appearance.&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;So, I've been noticing lately that my hair is falling out. I'm seeing hair on my hands when I wash my hair. Joe thought it was my imagination. Today, I got my hair cut and guess what? Casey (that's my hairstylist's name) said my hair is considerably thinner, especially on top. Holy crap. I'm turning into Grandma Crouse. Short, round, balding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;_________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1956073187399299305?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1956073187399299305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1956073187399299305' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1956073187399299305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1956073187399299305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/flaming-lips-girl-made-it-home.html' title='The Flaming Lips Girl Made It Home'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3377430179198459742</id><published>2007-09-07T08:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T08:38:08.741-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Minus 6</title><content type='html'>My boss, who calls me Miss Herbalessence because he can't remember my real name, just informed me that I'm -6 for the week.  I know this sounds negative (get it?  -6, negative?  HAHAHA) but it really isn't .  It means I've closed more claims than I received this week.    So let's say I got 20 claims this week.  -6 means I closed 26 claims.  Seems like quite the feat, doesn't it?  The goal is to be at 100% or higher (another oxymoron) by the end of the year.  How can we POSSIBLY close more files than we get during the year, you ask?  That's what we ask too.  But, it can be done, and is EXPECTED. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Sarah is going to Chicago to see the "Flaming Lips"  I wonder if their lips are on fire while they sing and that's why no one can understand them?  She's taking her Chevy S10 pickup that she informs me "chugs" sometimes at stop signs.   She didn't do any of the things I told her to do, like change the oil, get a tuneup, save her money for gas, etc.    Luckily, another car load of kids will be going along too, so someone else will be there to help should anything...break.  I WAS able to talk them into leaving at  10 am instead of 1 pm.  I convinced them that being in Chicago rush hour traffic on a Friday would be worse than missing the concert altogether.  So if they actually get out of town by 10, they should make Chicago by 2 pm (maybe 3 pm with potty breaks and all that).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I got up for work, Sarah was up (!).  I took a shower and then got on-line to check her bank balance and decide how much money to give her for the trip.  This is a touchy area.  I don't want to give her more than she needs because she'll spend it.  But I don't want to give her less than she needs in case she runs out of gas or something horrid like that.    So while I was debating with myself, one of her IM buddies popped up with this, "!".  I said, "This is Sarah's mom, not Sarah."  It was her friend Ryan, and he told me he was so excited about the concert he only got 2 hours of sleep.  Oh, that makes me feel WAY better about you guys going to the concert.  I didn't say that, of course.  But I did make him promise to be careful.  He said they would, and of course I believe him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fairly certain I'm going to get a frantic call at 2 am saying one of these things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Mom, the car broke down in inner city Chicago!  What should I do?&lt;br /&gt;2.  Mom, I'm out of gas and I don't have any more money because I spent it all on t-shirts and food at the concert.  What should I do?&lt;br /&gt;3.  Mom, I'm in jail.  What should I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the big decision is, leave the phone on, or turn it off?  Don't worry.  Even if I DID turn my phone off, Joe w0uldn't be able to stand it and he'd turn it back on.  He is the ultimate "gotta be connected at all times" kinda guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3377430179198459742?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3377430179198459742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3377430179198459742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3377430179198459742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3377430179198459742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/minus-6.html' title='Minus 6'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-9128401161323679227</id><published>2007-09-05T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T20:19:51.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the mouths of babes part II</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Elizabeth made some home-made shortcakes.  She was cutting up the strawberries when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; asked her what she was doing.  She explained she was preparing strawberries for the shortcake.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yuki's&lt;/span&gt; response?   "I want some strawberries, damn it!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was able to stop laughing and breath again, I asked her what she said.  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt;, what did you say?"   "Uh....I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth went on to say that one of her friends went to the zoo with another mom and her children.   It was hot (one of those lovely 95 degree days).  Her friend's son was getting out of the car and piped up with, "It's hotter than a mo-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fo&lt;/span&gt; outside today."  OH MY GOSH.  Personally, I thought it was pretty funny.  But it's not my kid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew.  Those little ones soak up &lt;em&gt;EVERYTHING &lt;/em&gt;they hear and wait until the perfect moment to spit it right back out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-9128401161323679227?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/9128401161323679227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=9128401161323679227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9128401161323679227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/9128401161323679227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/out-of-mouths-of-babes-part-ii.html' title='Out of the mouths of babes part II'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-3650217867082190859</id><published>2007-09-05T07:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T07:50:09.237-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spider long weekends'/><title type='text'>No spider sightings yesterday</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was the first day I saw NO spiders in my house for quite a few days now. Interestingly, there is not one single bug stuck in any of the sticky traps. Apparently they know better. Or else I have no bugs in my house now. I'll go with the second option. I think the Raid around the doors and windows probably really did the trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Wednesday. I know in an earlier post I said we should all have 1 or 2 three day weekends a month, but now I'm reconsidering. I haven't necessarily changed my mind, but I'm thinking it over. The problem with a three day weekend, is a four day week. What is it about a four day week that makes it seem to d-r-a-g on and on and on? It's a strange phenomenon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-3650217867082190859?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/3650217867082190859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=3650217867082190859' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3650217867082190859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/3650217867082190859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-spider-sightings-yesterday.html' title='No spider sightings yesterday'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-2996426160374664870</id><published>2007-09-03T13:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T13:32:06.857-04:00</updated><title type='text'>GROSS!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/RtxCnFIABbI/AAAAAAAAAA0/nI8bQOxvafQ/s1600-h/glowing+eyes+spider.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106029316689364402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/RtxCnFIABbI/AAAAAAAAAA0/nI8bQOxvafQ/s320/glowing+eyes+spider.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;! My brother Sam enlarged the photo of the spider I found in my bathroom a couple of days ago. Isn't it gross??? Look at those glowing eyes and the hair on it's legs. YUCK!.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart today and bought some sticky pads and some Raid. Last night was the last straw. Joe saw a spider walking across the room and killed it. Then, when I opened the back door to let the dogs out last night there were THREE spiders, just like the one above, sitting on my door jam right next to the web they had presumably just woven. Normally, I'm of the philosophy that if the bug is outside, that's where it belongs and I have no issues with it. Inside is a different ballgame altogether. But, I think it's time for action. I sprayed the door jam and around the foundation with Raid. Man I hope it works!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sam's blog is at http://www.samellis.net.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-2996426160374664870?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/2996426160374664870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=2996426160374664870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2996426160374664870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/2996426160374664870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/gross.html' title='GROSS!!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/RtxCnFIABbI/AAAAAAAAAA0/nI8bQOxvafQ/s72-c/glowing+eyes+spider.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7389356.post-1929180251251145555</id><published>2007-09-02T20:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T20:33:12.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Sunday, but feels like Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I love long weekends.  We should all have a long weekend 1 or 2 times a month.  More than that wouldn't work because it would just become normal, and wouldn't seem like a treat.   I haven't decided what I'm going to do with my extra day yet.   Joe is handing me all the sales fliers for the Labor Day Sales.  That sounds like &lt;em&gt;permission&lt;/em&gt; if you ask me.  "Here honey.  Anything in these fliers is fair game for your purchasing pleasure.  Enjoy!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Have a great Labor Day.  Don't forget...after tomorrow, you need to leave your white shoes in the closet until Memorial Day.  =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7389356-1929180251251145555?l=christyjo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/feeds/1929180251251145555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7389356&amp;postID=1929180251251145555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1929180251251145555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7389356/posts/default/1929180251251145555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://christyjo.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-sunday-but-feels-like-saturday.html' title='It&apos;s Sunday, but feels like Saturday'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15453362732113226352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cV0-fOjcMOU/TRvprmE63PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/7ZL0i_pFb1Y/S220/Christy%2527s%2B50th%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
