tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81292238931920370322024-02-22T10:57:58.792-06:00Life in the Loony BinI'm committed to itThe Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comBlogger484125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-81465479293194277172013-09-17T22:37:00.002-05:002013-09-17T22:37:57.414-05:00Too Much Media, Too Little Val<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Despite what you may think, my interest in blogging and social media has not waned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It has been diverted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have had this blog for several years (back in the days when I wasn't driving and I was slowly losing my seizure-having mind) and I love it. I love it like an old, pet cat. Speaking of cats, you need one?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am sort of stuck.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I talk. I talk a lot. Not as much as some, but definitely more than most. And while I have all these words floating around in my head and they tend to just fall out of my mouth (like today when the Nebraska Furniture man delivered my new kitchen chair, he had been in the house a total of about 12 seconds and I randomly offered him some snacks and water--which he took me up on), sometimes even talkers stop talking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Or run out of coherent things to say. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Life has been pretty crazy the last few months. I know. Everyone says that. I actually don't say it very often, and certainly not as any kind of excuse for whatever of my area I am falling short in. But it is true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I retired from RYLA, after 10 years. We had cancer surgery (Mr. Fun and I--two days apart--both benign). I drove 4,859 miles back east. Because I could. I have been called as a photography missionary for the Mormon Church. I have even made dinner a couple times in there as well as planned my country's 500 year anniversary party. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Things are slowing down, although I have had a recent Facebook rant about those fools regarding the Miss America pageant. As a matter of fact, I am going to put it in here so that when I print this, my grandchildren can read it sometime and think, "Man, our grandma is freaking cool":</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Dear Miss America Racist Ranters:</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">First, unless you are full-blooded Native American, chances are you have some sort of ancestors who immigrated to this country at some point so that you would have the opportunity to sit on your couch and tweet your stupidity for the whole world to see.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Second, if you had gotten off said couch at some point to look at say, an atlas, you would see that the Middle </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">East is about 2,482 miles from India. And that almost all Middle Easterners are not terrorists but folks who love their children, go work every day, and worship their God in the way they feel to be best for them.<br /><br />Last, but not least, I have lived with, served, and love the Indian people. If you were not such closed-minded idiots, you would be proud to have a beautiful woman like Nina Davuluri to represent you.<br /><br />Get a life.<br />Valerie</span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While it seems to have fallen out of my mouth easily, it actually took some time to put together because I really had to think what words didn't involve swearing. I am a missionary, after all. The nice deal of all this is that some fella I never met named Jim put me on his list of Favorite People. Which is pretty satisfying because little does he know that I have been working for years to get on it. That, and the fact that I will never make the People Best Dressed List, so I will take whatever list I can find.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My life is so consumed with this photo thing and everyone who would read this blog should be reading the churchy blog (less swearing for starters--I mean SLC buddies in the Church History Department follow it so I have dial it down) because church is good for the soul.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I do love this blog because I can let it all hang out (like using that saying right there....what is hanging out and how much is all?). I guess I like to do what I want, when I want, and how I want. Good thing my mom told me to look up my number for numerology (hello, Number 5) so that I could learn this about me. Otherwise I would still be following the directions of everyone around me, bossing me around. I am a Gold and following like a sheep is one thing we do when we are feeling low of energy (I know this will only make sense to True Colors Rich L. and The Girl).</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The bottom line is that I am not sure how much I will be updating this blog. You can find me here: </span></span><a href="http://www.theminimission.blogspot.com/">http://www.theminimission.blogspot.com/</a> and here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/whatthemormonmissionarysaw">https://www.facebook.com/whatthemormonmissionarysaw</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I still collect my articles about Bob the Builders so no worries, the award that means nothing is still in play! :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here is a little churchy blog to get you started:</span><br />
<a href="http://www.theminimission.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-opposite-of-what-i-deserve.html">http://www.theminimission.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-opposite-of-what-i-deserve.html</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Valsy</span><br />
The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-35440143048035235262013-06-20T11:42:00.003-05:002013-06-20T11:42:34.125-05:00Bob the Builder: Throwing it out<a href="http://www.today.com/news/parents-re-taken-class-photo-world-it-should-be-6C10386819">http://www.today.com/news/parents-re-taken-class-photo-world-it-should-be-6C10386819</a><br />
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<br />When, as a parent, you have to bring out a little "she bear."The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-73938039131316616442013-05-10T08:02:00.002-05:002013-05-10T08:03:33.556-05:00Bob the Builder Award: Right Person, Right Place, Right Time<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Got this on the Facebook this morning....couldn't say it better:</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">A special shout-out to Charles Ramsey, the hero accredited with rescuing the three women that were victims of kidnapping in Ohio for over a decade. When asked what he planned to do, with the reward money, he replied "give the money to those girls, I have a paycheck!" Feel free to laugh, but understand, his actions were courageous and the forfeiture of the reward is noble. May he reap the benefit of his actions in Heaven. Thank you Charles for showing us, you don't need a suit, tie or big bank account to be a hero. You just need to be fearless! Roger that! </span><br />
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<br />The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-51818368025990789382013-04-15T23:02:00.001-05:002013-04-16T07:51:57.718-05:00An Open Letter to Some Bomber(s) Dear Bomber(s):<br />
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First, let me say I think you think you are pretty tricky.<br />
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I bet you are at home watching all this news coverage about Boston. Probably eating some crappy Ben and Jerry's Salted Pretzel Ice Cream (the worst ice cream we could think of here in Andersonville), with your feet up and wearing your sweats. <br />
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Sweats you probably picked up at the local Wal-Mart.<br />
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<span style="color: red;">Here in America.</span><br />
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AND to add insult to injury, you are probably smiling.<br />
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I could care less if you are from the US, from the Middle East, South America or Canada (which I have to agree those Canadians are just too damn nice to blow us up).<br />
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I could care less what your problem is. Wait, I take it back. For someone to blow up someone else, you have to have more than one problem. And I guess, looking deep inside my humanitarian heart, I actually do care. <br />
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Which makes me mad. Dang it, I do care what your problems are.<br />
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You see, that is what makes me different than you.<br />
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While it is true that I, too, am at home tonight watching the Boston stuff on the news, I am not eating Ben and Jerry's. I am not wearing sweats (long undies and my bright pink Boy Scout shirt) and just finished two pieces of Melba toast. <br />
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And I am not smiling.<br />
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If you were sitting here with me, I would definitely offer you something to drink or some Melba toast. Because that is what decent folks do....<br />
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consider others.<br />
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Not blow them up.<br />
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After your snack at my painted teal-colored table, you know what would happen next. I would verbally have to have a "come to Jesus" talk (as my mother calls it) with you.<br />
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And I wouldn't be very Jesus-y about it.<br />
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It would involve some swear words (you have to remember I am convert to Mormonism so some of my heathen ways have stuck with me). I might even feel like punching you in the head. But I wouldn't. <br />
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Because that is what decent folks don't do <span style="font-size: x-small;">(unless you are Darrell K from high school and you just ripped off the new refrigerated handle off my mother's new fridge....which of course earns you a punch in the face....but I digress...).</span><br />
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Keeping it real, it just plain makes me cranky that you think you have the right to be a jerk.<br />
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When, in actuality, you do have the right. Here in the good old USA. And my fellow Americans gave you that right. Whether you are American or not.<br />
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I have heard hours of commentary about that folks that were killed.<br />
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I have heard about the victims.<br />
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I have heard about the runners who did not get to meet their running goals. Who have trained for months or years to run this race. To finish the race. To cross that finish line. <br />
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Since you are watching this at home, you have heard it too.<br />
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People who have been robbed of their goals. Dreams.<br />
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Who you haven't heard about are the folks like me.<br />
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I am not a runner. The last time I ran was on January 26th, 2002. It was a memorable day for me, so that is why I remember it. So this it isn't about the running.<br />
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For me, I identify with those runners who did not make their goals. Who have worked for years to make it to the finish line. And who may never get there.<br />
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My race is humanity. And today, it makes me wonder if we will ever get "there."<br />
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What you did today, you did a pretty damn good job tearing it up.<br />
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I don't mean our physical injuries. I mean our hearts.<br />
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Humanitarians are driven by heart. Passion. <br />
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And hope.<br />
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So, when jerks like you come along and disrupt our peace, we reel. We cry. We get angry. We feel hopeless....but only for a moment.<br />
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And then we get even.<br />
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I don't mean physically. Or militarily (sure that happens, but I don't make those calls).<br />
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I mean humanly.<br />
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We run 26.2 miles and run directly to the hospital to donate blood. We offer our tiny city apartments for sleeping. We give coffee. We share blankets. We pray. We post on Facebook. We stay connected with each other. We climb over and tear down crowd barriers, running towards the bombs. We turn in helpful tips. We look beyond our ourselves and our hurts to help the people beside us. We get it done in the<br />
moments we ache the most.<br />
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<img height="300" src="http://i.i.com.com/cnwk.1d/i/tim/2013/04/15/boston_marathon_explosion_max_child_300x225.jpg" width="400" /><br />
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Bomber guy, you have only given us a temporary set back. You have failed in your doing bad.<br />
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I feel sorry for you and your "sorry ass" (as my father says). Your Ben and Jerry's ice-cream-eating, sweat- wearing ass.<br />
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You cannot win. I will not let you.<br />
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I will get up tomorrow and do good. Because that is what decent people do.<br />
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Humanity will finish our race. And we will win.<br />
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So bite me.<br />
<br />
Love<br />
ValsyThe Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-53661482020809326352013-04-10T11:09:00.002-05:002013-04-10T11:09:17.391-05:00The View From The Ditch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Remember this movie?</span></div>
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The Boy sees a psychologist. </div>
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At the children's hospital that we<strike> attend </strike> (that sounds like attending a concert or something equally as fun as that ...but wait, I recently sat through an organ concert that I would have gladly on any day of the week gone to my dentist for work on my teeth then sit through that recital again). Let me start over.</div>
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At the children's hospital that we go to for the boy's health, they have a theory that you treat the "whole" patient. We have a psychologist Psychiatrist. Nutritionist. A LPN. The doctor. The biofeedback ladies. A physical therapy lady and a social worker. I am sure our insurance LOVES us. Not.</div>
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So, because of the mental impact his illness has had on the formation of his personality and his development, I have had absolutely no problem using the insurance we have at a cost of $277 a visit (bill to insurance, not us) for the boy to have someone else to talk to, besides me. It has been a good thing.</div>
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Months have passed since we last saw her. It was good to connect recently. <br /><br />She said something that I have been pondering the last few days. She said, "I am so glad to see you have climbed out of the ditch." </div>
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I don't remember who said it first or when we had that conversation years ago.</div>
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When we were younger, The Boy and me, his illness consumed us. And rightly so. He was so young. It was so hard. And it was crushing all of us on Forest Avenue, not just him. We lived at Def con 5 for so long, coupled with everything else that was going on (Tom, my epilepsy, Mr. Fun's cancer) that it was not a matter of if we would break, but a question of when. We had a to develop some sort of objective voice in our life management, so we started with Mrs. D for The Boy.</div>
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A great parenting decision, if I do say so myself. :)</div>
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She works with lots of "kiddos" with broken body parts, so we were right at home.</div>
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As the conversations carried on, we talked about how we were in our survival mode. The analogy came up about tornado and how sometimes, when you have no where else to go, you run for the ditch. </div>
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It was an easy analogy for him to understand, given we live in the outskirts of Tornado Alley.</div>
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For those of you who have not lived a spring in the mid west, the ditch is your last resort for safety when you have no where else to go. The theory is that it is better to be in a low depression so that you aren't impaled by flying debris. It makes it harder for the winds to catch under you. Sure they can pull you out of the ditch, but you stand a better chance of survival than laying on the flat ground.</div>
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<span style="color: red;">Remember when the truck drove into a ditch under an overpass?</span></div>
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Is the ditch ideal? No. Ditches are dirty. You get filthy. Ditches are unsecured. Anything can crush or fall on your from above. The sides are not stable. They can collapse on our. Some people have even drowned in ditches. </div>
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All in all, if your life is so bad you are in a ditch to survive, you've got problems. </div>
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Just ask the soldiers from World War 1. Trenches they were called back then.</div>
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSxj6ebGtDBcrfKfNMzOKX3eWyFpe3dgyn5oiw1j5IrWxsIj_2d4g" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSxj6ebGtDBcrfKfNMzOKX3eWyFpe3dgyn5oiw1j5IrWxsIj_2d4g" width="400" /></a></div>
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Where I grew up, we didn't really have sidewalks. If I wanted to walk or ride my bike into town, I had to do it in the ditch along the main road. It was bumpy, hilly, and took a lot of effort to navigate. But when I finally hit the pavement at the Parker's gas station down the road, it was like winning the biking lottery.</div>
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The pavement was smooth and quiet. It was level. And maintained. Someone had invested in that part of the road so that it was easier for others to use later. </div>
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I love pavement. Still do. I know that I am not the only one from Soldotna who does. I remember I was in a room full of Alaskans when we found out one of the longest dirt roads in our town had finally been paved (I was married with kids by then). Funny River Road. About 30 miles. When we found out, it was like one of us had gone to the moon! Everyone swooned. Everyone awed. There was cheering! It was magical moment that to the non-Soldotna native looked like "What the heck? You guys are all jazzed up about a paved road?" </div>
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To me, ditches and pavement go together like salt and pepper. Ying and yang. Truffles and dark chocolate.</div>
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A lot has changed since we climbed into the ditch initially.</div>
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<br />Tom has passed away. Mr. Fun is cancer free. The Boy and I are finally seeing a light at the end of his academic and scout goals. I have my epilepsy under control. The days are longer in peace and joy. While The Boy's health is probably never going to improve, we have found ways to manage him and it a little more consistently and successfully.</div>
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Mrs. D is right. We have finally been able to climb out of the ditch. The tornado is gone. Sure, another one might come back. In the mid west, they always seem to. But for now, we feel the light on our faces. Our dirty, messy-but-still-in-one piece faces.</div>
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One more thing...</div>
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<img height="640" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRw9mQ_BSsfFMhgk9ca6LWYeS7UnBd-q754CizpHD4lZpO6oV7TxQ" width="477" /></div>
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Hey! Did you hear that Funny River got paved?! Woo hoo!</div>
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The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-21810536195286396892013-04-09T08:25:00.002-05:002013-04-09T08:25:26.091-05:00Bob the Builder Award: Olive Garden<br />
Whose Ryker? A five-month-old in American Fork, Utah, who on Sunday was shot and killled by his father with a 22 gun.<br />
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<a href="http://www.ksl.com/?sid=24695838&nid=148&title=candle-light-vigil-to-be-held-for-family-of-killed-5-month-old&fm=home_page&s_cid=featured-4">http://www.ksl.com/?sid=24695838&nid=148&title=candle-light-vigil-to-be-held-for-family-of-killed-5-month-old&fm=home_page&s_cid=featured-4</a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">My buddy, Patti, posted this to her Facebook last night:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">A special "shout out" to the Olive Garden in American Fork. When the manager found out about the death of little Ryker he called the family and said he would cater the whole meal after the funeral. What a kind and loving gesture. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Good for you, Olive Garden! </span></span><br />
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<img height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJujQSK9nkjzkvkbsdOkN9bPsvcscDtjyikvzlDQVaXWfjvWEZ3q8xTER8P_1-JVpXx9nou5Z-bSX8EnZ1EiKxzVT76-1yeSS5RJ0GiBk8k4e_yRiATTdiVvzHgzhqaSAQ-rhPUK0LZJa/s400/Olive-Garden-Logo.jpg" width="400" /><br />
______________________________________________________________The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-30831714014561005752013-03-28T16:34:00.003-05:002013-03-28T16:34:38.844-05:00Pictures from the Purse....because I was in the mood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52YBP3q9_IhDsFX5K3_ClrjSAKQ_bYbNtLe-c1CkyzVDr_XN3gC0bp-5ayyVakYZRw-7kKPjVT3do5ldNVrq9-Z7oZW7IVgK7cnN6WnNh2lAK1jk3h-vdOIK77lYXczuckr8QJXKgRvMQ/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52YBP3q9_IhDsFX5K3_ClrjSAKQ_bYbNtLe-c1CkyzVDr_XN3gC0bp-5ayyVakYZRw-7kKPjVT3do5ldNVrq9-Z7oZW7IVgK7cnN6WnNh2lAK1jk3h-vdOIK77lYXczuckr8QJXKgRvMQ/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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My hot rod friend needs these.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVY8NUbATiTGsCAivZc7TJCFvkRm_h5XrnCEPfih32GDHXyjK-rcG52AK2ZO-Tm6XlWY5IQzzbnQZkwzGMz44p8yoeY5po7h4C8r2frYvN6KMw-NyX59qFQPf6VoLEWFuyu58amrUgrj-/s1600/004+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVY8NUbATiTGsCAivZc7TJCFvkRm_h5XrnCEPfih32GDHXyjK-rcG52AK2ZO-Tm6XlWY5IQzzbnQZkwzGMz44p8yoeY5po7h4C8r2frYvN6KMw-NyX59qFQPf6VoLEWFuyu58amrUgrj-/s400/004+(2).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Meditating at the Buddhist Shrine.</div>
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Apparently I am not a natural at </div>
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quiet, eye-closed meditation.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUlwDcgv6v3X5w82MaO1f9nmpFgLTN0KkHbWZfzFzLt0sL65vgB6L7C2ESMmp6GvpKrrj7ht2imNpyjRXscjl62ZWsFtLLhaZ4uVboErU7kSz95eCwLmkhEIfkrjC8iFx2Me_wMN1Uo91/s1600/010+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUlwDcgv6v3X5w82MaO1f9nmpFgLTN0KkHbWZfzFzLt0sL65vgB6L7C2ESMmp6GvpKrrj7ht2imNpyjRXscjl62ZWsFtLLhaZ4uVboErU7kSz95eCwLmkhEIfkrjC8iFx2Me_wMN1Uo91/s400/010+(2).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Nothing says "Stud-licious" </div>
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like a man with only one arm.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuL7LOk1iCsh30hQ_bRJUF8Cv1vk4GabACEJ-c4rqXmN2Fr1gux_qoZ5ko7tT1Wm-hi-UtBceQ3jf85gDeO_1tnk3DcJ3p3GMcLmWMZAJekiTY4rivKcGdCDkV1K1RKHIChOkIHbD6Pky3/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuL7LOk1iCsh30hQ_bRJUF8Cv1vk4GabACEJ-c4rqXmN2Fr1gux_qoZ5ko7tT1Wm-hi-UtBceQ3jf85gDeO_1tnk3DcJ3p3GMcLmWMZAJekiTY4rivKcGdCDkV1K1RKHIChOkIHbD6Pky3/s640/002.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Holy hannah! This is all it </div>
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takes to have a perfect world?<br />Then why am I doing all this humanitarian work?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy78DqyQWYHbygIn2DFpkuvx2wcixwXbX22xW57DrTFzdUQ7LfoSPsWNCC2oOqCm3993JmzSKGHJjcmva2wz7J2ytZWEww1Xc_AmeRtKiFDtXod4Jj_GejuNQaSFB2FNxVkHPWVKERegej/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy78DqyQWYHbygIn2DFpkuvx2wcixwXbX22xW57DrTFzdUQ7LfoSPsWNCC2oOqCm3993JmzSKGHJjcmva2wz7J2ytZWEww1Xc_AmeRtKiFDtXod4Jj_GejuNQaSFB2FNxVkHPWVKERegej/s400/004.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Apparently the polygamists</div>
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have their own body wash.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtYYX-LFrrGJThByy-btenC8EQzPQ_vuraMfRn4QLALb0MJgpDum13mow0DzjV8PyihSD0E5BnF87FUE5ARYP4msT3UB-NBfMHmxMHg7iDxt8QDtjmStXYycMXOk_QjxZB3a8DR20LfrH/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtYYX-LFrrGJThByy-btenC8EQzPQ_vuraMfRn4QLALb0MJgpDum13mow0DzjV8PyihSD0E5BnF87FUE5ARYP4msT3UB-NBfMHmxMHg7iDxt8QDtjmStXYycMXOk_QjxZB3a8DR20LfrH/s400/010.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Wives who are annoyed with the purchase</div>
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of more tools knows no religious </div>
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boundaries</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOI1lNYXWJFWTCfLJq-nJI7mJXjv2Pn5h3laCNIvCtZFwmp6v2F95sn6xrHyWdvxHR9PL_cLVSPmH0zEIj8oXdnj9_0wyFewObfSEEfO6LykuWXapOk31wboJOBiCAgsMEaVQsuT6f-o-0/s1600/013+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOI1lNYXWJFWTCfLJq-nJI7mJXjv2Pn5h3laCNIvCtZFwmp6v2F95sn6xrHyWdvxHR9PL_cLVSPmH0zEIj8oXdnj9_0wyFewObfSEEfO6LykuWXapOk31wboJOBiCAgsMEaVQsuT6f-o-0/s320/013+(2).JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Speaking of polygamy</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRn0fkyVnj7GjEXnb6LS8cOvSc9MqqZPpf0rCCBfASjr2Rcezanpx0l3qwe6guCUgYs_oCgT_7iHiMkB0k2UTXJBOPjO7uVo4VwHhOsXuUR6btdKFXWbGiEo-xbmqsZtsGtnRX_ktKhmfC/s1600/011+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRn0fkyVnj7GjEXnb6LS8cOvSc9MqqZPpf0rCCBfASjr2Rcezanpx0l3qwe6guCUgYs_oCgT_7iHiMkB0k2UTXJBOPjO7uVo4VwHhOsXuUR6btdKFXWbGiEo-xbmqsZtsGtnRX_ktKhmfC/s640/011+(2).JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I have thrown a lot of parties.</div>
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Now you know my secret of being</div>
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the life of the party...</div>
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picking my butt.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnnC2ON8Dm6_3Sn00FLqReDX07GaVRQr6GlMhriseXyA2P__W9VwKH2Kmhen1ypU-isk6WtFJnRd6-NerWlv7N-CbmMlNtL15Mih2jOphsS9UWyrkycQ7nhkMEKy7CciuCAktXrxjkRCd/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnnC2ON8Dm6_3Sn00FLqReDX07GaVRQr6GlMhriseXyA2P__W9VwKH2Kmhen1ypU-isk6WtFJnRd6-NerWlv7N-CbmMlNtL15Mih2jOphsS9UWyrkycQ7nhkMEKy7CciuCAktXrxjkRCd/s400/015.JPG" width="352" /></a></div>
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I am thinking of investing in some art...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsk9Su7Am8uwzt6D0mcDhA3fNUfXbBZ8WHdBYlQhs4VDj7tk-eeV2rurskrHENxLuiK4NCinpgEA9EM-6Avn1NpkSkTEIr6vmlvPfgi8o6dCt983fNYpNkv2hlg97J2oefBsHa8wN8cV-s/s1600/012+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsk9Su7Am8uwzt6D0mcDhA3fNUfXbBZ8WHdBYlQhs4VDj7tk-eeV2rurskrHENxLuiK4NCinpgEA9EM-6Avn1NpkSkTEIr6vmlvPfgi8o6dCt983fNYpNkv2hlg97J2oefBsHa8wN8cV-s/s400/012+(2).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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What? Amish guys need crafts too</div>
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Another use of duct tape</div>
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Mr Fun would DIE if someone threw</div>
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soap in our water feature...</div>
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Nothing says "We are not liable for damage to your car"<br />like some grilled Thank You Salmon</div>
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Propane and a smoke break...</div>
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We counted up this list between us...</div>
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there are only three places we haven't been.</div>
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Geez, we just need to get out more.</div>
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So creepy</div>
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Catch the irony?</div>
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If you say so...</div>
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Just to be clear....</div>
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<br />Santa and Frosty's off-season gig....garbage men</div>
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Answer: Three things that apparently can kill</div>
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you...in the public library.</div>
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Complex to me is geometry...not my salad.</div>
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An oldie but goodie...cat maulings in the family picture</div>
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A hobby I am looking into</div>
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Look what you are getting for your</div>
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next birthday....snake and mongoose art</div>
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I love this store stocker....</div>
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I bet someone I know feels this way....</div>
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To quote myself from the Facebook:<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Geography lesson of the day:</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Japan and its monkeys don't live in Alaska.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">And as of 1867, Alaska became part </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">of the "domestic" part of the United States.</span></div>
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We received this with no </div>
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announcement information. </div>
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What happens to bananas when a snow</div>
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storm comes to town.</div>
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I bet you wished you had had one NOW</div>
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Lamanite bowling for you Mormons</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">The Grand Champion of this edition of </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Pictures from the Purse:</span><br />Best friend holds your hair</div>
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back when you puke your guts out</div>
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at a party.</div>
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And yes, for reals,</div>
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the puker is related to me. :)</div>
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The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-77980886995345105162013-03-15T16:46:00.002-05:002013-03-15T16:46:20.919-05:00Another fun-filled installment of Pictures from the Purse!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qw2FHNa6pbY9phWgAN9gty77XBPm6VHIoIHh7QSU6IiJ1iFIfpLLuKoVM9C4pYRkG1Ge2aOU6-yVusqS2bFIXMXm3WsOMWd7h7aQE7-p0jP5eGfsp7xvfE6UwPeFWNjTmd5cAEp29wmJ/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qw2FHNa6pbY9phWgAN9gty77XBPm6VHIoIHh7QSU6IiJ1iFIfpLLuKoVM9C4pYRkG1Ge2aOU6-yVusqS2bFIXMXm3WsOMWd7h7aQE7-p0jP5eGfsp7xvfE6UwPeFWNjTmd5cAEp29wmJ/s400/002.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Where is the cat?</div>
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At a gift shop....fake cat</div>
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At my house...real cat</div>
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This was at the Children's Hospital...</div>
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because children need this type of info</div>
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Who knew the Mini could be considered</div>
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a mid-sized?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNPh68bqvNLWqUjfnTnONQ1PSUhK_u3IFul-gBq-HCgM0ntaqFKOEbgJAray0Wjks9rGbblJRFGG2763gSihIZQMJaRaIgBQR_nUVwzj9qN6UsKcxXDDYvf90Eum2a8H5a16Y4asIv6Jy/s1600/20120623_123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNPh68bqvNLWqUjfnTnONQ1PSUhK_u3IFul-gBq-HCgM0ntaqFKOEbgJAray0Wjks9rGbblJRFGG2763gSihIZQMJaRaIgBQR_nUVwzj9qN6UsKcxXDDYvf90Eum2a8H5a16Y4asIv6Jy/s640/20120623_123.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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This was for sale at the </div>
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Amish grocery store</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmTfb-XvYsni4hEitG_6-eQC3ErgRViJLWnqt6vuE5Y45uHjwp6mksoN8ym1pKVeyM95rFBt1OQSd_RF2QbnZkn4kx2esboieAIC8atrjBaN2BjvxF3PHiwIAECLA640_ZleMjjjE1qhq/s1600/20120710_53.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmTfb-XvYsni4hEitG_6-eQC3ErgRViJLWnqt6vuE5Y45uHjwp6mksoN8ym1pKVeyM95rFBt1OQSd_RF2QbnZkn4kx2esboieAIC8atrjBaN2BjvxF3PHiwIAECLA640_ZleMjjjE1qhq/s400/20120710_53.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Jewish stickers ARE fun!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7qgMG-LL0jICCSBSIvkkayJO30X3pKO_9eeIz7I0qJ5ALJa3T1_6xL1FVSgNC7nQRkiY4Tmd_oqmnA0Bca_aWHhqUhR_74mRJzQeTKETfTHni1MI3750vF-ZTRtaCTUgrHytKLhZu7Uwo/s1600/20120710_3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7qgMG-LL0jICCSBSIvkkayJO30X3pKO_9eeIz7I0qJ5ALJa3T1_6xL1FVSgNC7nQRkiY4Tmd_oqmnA0Bca_aWHhqUhR_74mRJzQeTKETfTHni1MI3750vF-ZTRtaCTUgrHytKLhZu7Uwo/s320/20120710_3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Good luck with late dinner...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSUDhV0paR4-Q2x3tk0QSjhn5uxTbGTuZbedg4pqpDo-x4ZYfM_WZWdgIUo9Tg3LFcahyIRiiIR6hZoeEYqe8WuZD17Up8owvGK0_PMYLFtZSbrKw-nOc5sZBAzHX6NDNBhqhExhWdUtg/s1600/20120720_10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSUDhV0paR4-Q2x3tk0QSjhn5uxTbGTuZbedg4pqpDo-x4ZYfM_WZWdgIUo9Tg3LFcahyIRiiIR6hZoeEYqe8WuZD17Up8owvGK0_PMYLFtZSbrKw-nOc5sZBAzHX6NDNBhqhExhWdUtg/s400/20120720_10.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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From a psych test at the children's hospital...</div>
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read the questions: </div>
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My favorite in the middle of normal questions:</div>
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question 32</div>
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Don't they know that children love the sea?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwDAcGqnxPDvs_uu1rFld2C4OTdgdKXNE5ns89bltvfWKFNYpSaPU5_6WRRg6wmvfGr65JraKxPNKo3DtWs-13ZNTmtLyGOWyjtetXr05XjkeMwvBWbZyLJ1D4MpGsnUWNXXDkut9lo5d/s1600/20120607_19.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwDAcGqnxPDvs_uu1rFld2C4OTdgdKXNE5ns89bltvfWKFNYpSaPU5_6WRRg6wmvfGr65JraKxPNKo3DtWs-13ZNTmtLyGOWyjtetXr05XjkeMwvBWbZyLJ1D4MpGsnUWNXXDkut9lo5d/s320/20120607_19.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Oh the irony...Amish don't allow</div>
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themselves to be photographed</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd-_oyKrBjfFcLhwK0rkSmwk45gjdE4_5z9wtEcYG2VIOIUPM31k17RQK9Gk9rbw-ADuUqBHeIWJwlLV9zVajlTQVypS9jz3lKeNIFgURIegKqLPjwb57WHrZrXVXYBLy7ACzLUaq11z8L/s1600/20120607_211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd-_oyKrBjfFcLhwK0rkSmwk45gjdE4_5z9wtEcYG2VIOIUPM31k17RQK9Gk9rbw-ADuUqBHeIWJwlLV9zVajlTQVypS9jz3lKeNIFgURIegKqLPjwb57WHrZrXVXYBLy7ACzLUaq11z8L/s400/20120607_211.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Driving down my street one day,</div>
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there was a skull laying in the road</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8zOiqvvpKKHGgpQVeRM1Lew9PCwqhHFSQIuevW1n-1jiRLm9PfYDu3hqWM1fE_c5CJ8i5rsIKw0FWx5ejTrO1-ooNr1P3RTdO-0dicGK8Xq07g2LbYz5idMfaxIqPsW3VbVjREKK4Ojk/s1600/110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8zOiqvvpKKHGgpQVeRM1Lew9PCwqhHFSQIuevW1n-1jiRLm9PfYDu3hqWM1fE_c5CJ8i5rsIKw0FWx5ejTrO1-ooNr1P3RTdO-0dicGK8Xq07g2LbYz5idMfaxIqPsW3VbVjREKK4Ojk/s320/110.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Someone needs to learn how to </div>
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land a fish...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mAEYxaCoGtDmFKuhza8ZbttwZNJN-dXK-QgnGGdWDvBZGFaQhkcAYL3uMev5lXlXegPTnr8MGX0bpsGhqp7yuDmmVbvzjoxYXAiCByWTE6lRHPlG7giGctqUgf8v2k9cidzbYAsaNlM_/s1600/106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mAEYxaCoGtDmFKuhza8ZbttwZNJN-dXK-QgnGGdWDvBZGFaQhkcAYL3uMev5lXlXegPTnr8MGX0bpsGhqp7yuDmmVbvzjoxYXAiCByWTE6lRHPlG7giGctqUgf8v2k9cidzbYAsaNlM_/s400/106.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Just kidding, you're not really welcome</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeBrsmS8xuqY9FQdAUxUchyphenhyphenOMutC-PvBf_oFTPNsMRbPcahylKL2gfK9RkoDO5VP3Xq3XUij8qRAYfF4U3OEVGHPSTN60bv18E-yfliPGACmrRBPC-43gOsfQq6xEtF_MUHu07vdCge6x/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeBrsmS8xuqY9FQdAUxUchyphenhyphenOMutC-PvBf_oFTPNsMRbPcahylKL2gfK9RkoDO5VP3Xq3XUij8qRAYfF4U3OEVGHPSTN60bv18E-yfliPGACmrRBPC-43gOsfQq6xEtF_MUHu07vdCge6x/s320/001.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Geez...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLkkrBxMSSco1t3NY3Io5z365At9urk06bCrRaurJ2WdDBhd3Itf5W69p53bdyatfR_vvKPlOYKLHw3w6DqQv5foeiV1kOQadbDGxluyGq4fnX9W4erGKOGpw-3Hvi2fAB78gYP4Jl9sh/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLkkrBxMSSco1t3NY3Io5z365At9urk06bCrRaurJ2WdDBhd3Itf5W69p53bdyatfR_vvKPlOYKLHw3w6DqQv5foeiV1kOQadbDGxluyGq4fnX9W4erGKOGpw-3Hvi2fAB78gYP4Jl9sh/s400/003.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Someone explain to me why the exact</div>
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same sticker company gives 500 to girls</div>
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and 1,000 to boys</div>
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Because all 1 1/2 year olds need</div>
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to know about hexagons</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUJVC3l7iNPSSEdvFHWmfOpxxUt2LMwA76GtXNEbjSUJvT3BBzUAh29f_kRGAHjwKLyjI4nN6OuS8bpT4zgEMABlrd9caHRd3Flp6IVrNpKPf8z0U_TGVipax2EkhEWXLoxerVBiCBqp_/s1600/20120206_38.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUJVC3l7iNPSSEdvFHWmfOpxxUt2LMwA76GtXNEbjSUJvT3BBzUAh29f_kRGAHjwKLyjI4nN6OuS8bpT4zgEMABlrd9caHRd3Flp6IVrNpKPf8z0U_TGVipax2EkhEWXLoxerVBiCBqp_/s320/20120206_38.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Maybe since Snackwells doesn't make </div>
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brownie bites anymore, I could switch</div>
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to the dog treats. Prime rib....mmmmm.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbGBI1ESup_7fXF4LnBUtw93pRA2rak8Km-Pql9V7_7ZaryTn49Xu6W1UetZFoARhb-16dz-NSaPnRjM5XVJ1kyZLh3Wic5S6TuuXI5ivW5jth9kAigsYwYAUZJVPsuaYhhRZsy8vvwmkY/s1600/20120229_5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbGBI1ESup_7fXF4LnBUtw93pRA2rak8Km-Pql9V7_7ZaryTn49Xu6W1UetZFoARhb-16dz-NSaPnRjM5XVJ1kyZLh3Wic5S6TuuXI5ivW5jth9kAigsYwYAUZJVPsuaYhhRZsy8vvwmkY/s400/20120229_5.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Hello, some of us would like to buy the letter V (and X)</div>
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?</div>
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Hello, Walmart. The 80's called.</div>
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They want their clothes back.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNv8vfT1Lc8qvL8Qs6ATfhIQxHgPJZZF6IKxsTblOv3b58By4eHvYxBVaMf3w2wwU3SGLSbnMVWLkRb_6ihgxEXslPv9Yjo9RZYfU-LlkzZikncev7f0_2DgjiAcmjRIdszGodLwBpW-E/s1600/20130304_6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNv8vfT1Lc8qvL8Qs6ATfhIQxHgPJZZF6IKxsTblOv3b58By4eHvYxBVaMf3w2wwU3SGLSbnMVWLkRb_6ihgxEXslPv9Yjo9RZYfU-LlkzZikncev7f0_2DgjiAcmjRIdszGodLwBpW-E/s320/20130304_6.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cleavage = butt?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKHbyvIDMMTsBiWwHFQ142h37Cw9i23PDnXGwAP1wn10byGE2Jvk4L1a3sCAzmqJMbiFqqT0gx_3CaLenQCVWwNTSR_-kauT4NaEVVR0VYRa8HsbRihmSGZVnuNaKuapP9SZdr3mDTUeV/s1600/20130304_9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKHbyvIDMMTsBiWwHFQ142h37Cw9i23PDnXGwAP1wn10byGE2Jvk4L1a3sCAzmqJMbiFqqT0gx_3CaLenQCVWwNTSR_-kauT4NaEVVR0VYRa8HsbRihmSGZVnuNaKuapP9SZdr3mDTUeV/s400/20130304_9.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Socially conscious Easter Rabbits</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObr1Z2loTBYpaPYcc_I7z4pz4tTXN3ZwtsZ6zRmOM5RCHrYcW9oMpDMy9C5qkOfdLvH8QNmMul_Z_NE90yFpqzGoGh4JhjZW1KSUUa2WqTR3SZsihSSfA30DOzEHFaDzOz-I3BVJJsggp/s1600/20121005_9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObr1Z2loTBYpaPYcc_I7z4pz4tTXN3ZwtsZ6zRmOM5RCHrYcW9oMpDMy9C5qkOfdLvH8QNmMul_Z_NE90yFpqzGoGh4JhjZW1KSUUa2WqTR3SZsihSSfA30DOzEHFaDzOz-I3BVJJsggp/s640/20121005_9.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Seth, I am your mother....</div>
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I am sensing a theme here....</div>
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<br /></div>
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Just plain good advice</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQhNAYOePWJ1FU1Q2ZZxlQoQ7eJpb_GJkmDMuvkwyXtOgARElCafaRsMT0iiKTkA_UG2RJMGU0dO0DKsbqgpFVRYMeoXCeh3FOMDFE_FGoWAIl3lug-wNP9vHry30VEpqjswQJU4D7oWL/s1600/001+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQhNAYOePWJ1FU1Q2ZZxlQoQ7eJpb_GJkmDMuvkwyXtOgARElCafaRsMT0iiKTkA_UG2RJMGU0dO0DKsbqgpFVRYMeoXCeh3FOMDFE_FGoWAIl3lug-wNP9vHry30VEpqjswQJU4D7oWL/s640/001+(2).JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Maybe I should get on the Food Stamp Program.</div>
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Proof that Godiva Chocolate is </div>
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supplemental nutrition</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJVSLlRAR3czHg2pGWUjfjI24-cQSU8FD_6h_yqTSme65J4A5XStlPtkIA98gZMQYsIgjnaWIRcExPhN3B6bF9dPuNoHmOFfkX8KkIp8ErY-F7Pz0mGd1E_qDyf5ZdbtwOK-IDLly3ZpV4/s1600/002+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJVSLlRAR3czHg2pGWUjfjI24-cQSU8FD_6h_yqTSme65J4A5XStlPtkIA98gZMQYsIgjnaWIRcExPhN3B6bF9dPuNoHmOFfkX8KkIp8ErY-F7Pz0mGd1E_qDyf5ZdbtwOK-IDLly3ZpV4/s400/002+(3).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Merry Christmas, Mr. Fun</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqFyDoJu5ksc6dfkQ-lWunmjuGG3WFVLm21afI0_V3FJqxfKDq88Rwa2VR17Hxf_PB-Q3vitanygM6XA9bdJ15kpXRfe4s_3HW_CHteZQGvKdm7waumHy7zIT2b-n-v-MzjKipNedeTsG/s1600/20121005_14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqFyDoJu5ksc6dfkQ-lWunmjuGG3WFVLm21afI0_V3FJqxfKDq88Rwa2VR17Hxf_PB-Q3vitanygM6XA9bdJ15kpXRfe4s_3HW_CHteZQGvKdm7waumHy7zIT2b-n-v-MzjKipNedeTsG/s400/20121005_14.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Guess what you are getting for Christmas next year</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtb-tsqTJb7De9xPCDh3kDVWxc8m27-oBBGoWreyFK3gQ-LTD7svouX5xQi7ACcIrl3XvqqMko06VsMPqXAyqSBeT3F4sUPBeQqF3coviqZEAgKG7Splzcq3GiI4gfkqDtilB072CVuzQD/s1600/20121005_11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtb-tsqTJb7De9xPCDh3kDVWxc8m27-oBBGoWreyFK3gQ-LTD7svouX5xQi7ACcIrl3XvqqMko06VsMPqXAyqSBeT3F4sUPBeQqF3coviqZEAgKG7Splzcq3GiI4gfkqDtilB072CVuzQD/s320/20121005_11.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I hear it is time to toss these...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkLJmgTgZJQ1KjniX8-jItIeUhMQCh8J1tvdK7zD5lKOgxH42SC81z21_kpz-CmssPbKn4_LdFddCt1becR4oAyE34mgXO2mNyfgrWfkc_UfQX5DBaFRwsEFo694LnQvYLWvVkgqimYlI/s1600/20130315_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkLJmgTgZJQ1KjniX8-jItIeUhMQCh8J1tvdK7zD5lKOgxH42SC81z21_kpz-CmssPbKn4_LdFddCt1becR4oAyE34mgXO2mNyfgrWfkc_UfQX5DBaFRwsEFo694LnQvYLWvVkgqimYlI/s320/20130315_1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Whaaaats...Up?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ci7zQw0TTyyd2lZN6MzltnOABxS78ov9donbDu3rpteZutcGRt_vD2xVk0MtdUkaaIHvvgQ3EzBuirY53n4bEvjbzIsZwxtJVEpwOWaC620XtUlTQPwDTnA-tocQa2LucHETyQkLnj0c/s1600/20130315_3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ci7zQw0TTyyd2lZN6MzltnOABxS78ov9donbDu3rpteZutcGRt_vD2xVk0MtdUkaaIHvvgQ3EzBuirY53n4bEvjbzIsZwxtJVEpwOWaC620XtUlTQPwDTnA-tocQa2LucHETyQkLnj0c/s400/20130315_3.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I bet I know someone who knows this family....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfNvIJn5sYiKkiGh0soKRuyOYNcsFxMCDhz91c3plqxXC2DG2JBiKilTlEN66x_bpH-MjBYHNhjPcIKtsJPnFlqv9jKzB3mgoTMMooxtoKOqhiQjyr6TIQNMibPzFvc7jtbF9KcX-avOm/s1600/20121016_12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfNvIJn5sYiKkiGh0soKRuyOYNcsFxMCDhz91c3plqxXC2DG2JBiKilTlEN66x_bpH-MjBYHNhjPcIKtsJPnFlqv9jKzB3mgoTMMooxtoKOqhiQjyr6TIQNMibPzFvc7jtbF9KcX-avOm/s640/20121016_12.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Nope, you are seeing what you think you are seeing </div>
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on the top of his hat...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_0HTUFelyOp1QLgwm-Y9FRcYakCH8iuVd_J1Y5EdXRZk4S9syRT-GDBYVtyrV95HlqRzjnydL1Ai2vp-DgRwT9x1J4HSLA9Rgpr6fqhu9tE1L7rwhKw3saXwS4GvjGfYQkTNIVB3zxME/s1600/20121106_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_0HTUFelyOp1QLgwm-Y9FRcYakCH8iuVd_J1Y5EdXRZk4S9syRT-GDBYVtyrV95HlqRzjnydL1Ai2vp-DgRwT9x1J4HSLA9Rgpr6fqhu9tE1L7rwhKw3saXwS4GvjGfYQkTNIVB3zxME/s400/20121106_1.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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What the heck?<br />At the THRIFT Store?</div>
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And the Grand Champion of the </div>
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Pictures from the Purse Award </div>
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this go-around:<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUD4AYsgyGqsu0bqYrByV5TDKB3ewnlYMdY8YT7EdG0RlBg_femMqJpqs3wIWXPIzFxOwYGio6pMiRvFK_SySGHVtRFT4vGFo-56QKGArhuu_4Kl9dSajUmbf8XiLFnL15dYbMWMXhJEF/s1600/20130315_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUD4AYsgyGqsu0bqYrByV5TDKB3ewnlYMdY8YT7EdG0RlBg_femMqJpqs3wIWXPIzFxOwYGio6pMiRvFK_SySGHVtRFT4vGFo-56QKGArhuu_4Kl9dSajUmbf8XiLFnL15dYbMWMXhJEF/s640/20130315_2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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The Deadly Animals Coloring Book,</div>
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yep found in the Children's Craft section</div>
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of the Joannes!<br /><br />Enjoy!</div>
The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-12820898134267261382013-02-19T17:20:00.000-06:002013-02-19T17:20:22.247-06:00Why I went to IndiaIt has taken me over a month to get this down.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<span style="color: red;">Some folks think they know why I went to India.</span><br />
<br />
But really, I have rarely said the true reason.<br />
<br />
It all boils down to a newspaper in a hotel in Dublin, Ireland whose name I can't recall. And because God, our Heavenly Father, told me to.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
It was June 2009 and I was exhausted.<br />
<br />
I had been care giving The Boy, Tom, myself, and just had almost four super cool weeks in the British Isles.<br />
<br />
I had to hurry back to Missouri so that I could direct the leadership academy for 100 only a few days later. I was tired already, with no end in site.<br />
<br />
I had one night alone in Dublin, waiting to catch my flight back to the States. I ate lamb stew (delicious!) and yummy Irish butter (if you haven't, you should. As a matter of fact I just saw that brand at the Sam's Club the other day. Worth every penny.) I laid in my bed and was just "still." It was a good feeling.<br />
<br />
The next morning I hopped my shuttle to the airport, with nothing particular in mind. As I waited for the rest of the folks to get settled, I heard a voice in my mind.<br />
<br />
The voice said "Get off the shuttle, go to the lobby and get the newspaper."<br />
<br />
Huh?<br />
<br />
I have had several years experience with the voice in my head and doing what it says. Not that I want to sound like a fruit loop as my dad would say, but just keeping it real.<br />
<br />
First, I didn't know if there WAS a newspaper in the lobby. Second, I didn't have any country currency on me. Third, and most important in my brain, I could not have cared less about the news in Ireland.<br />
<br />
But I cannot recall going wrong when I listen to that voice in the past, so I did what it said.<br />
<br />
Sure enough, there was a newspaper on the counter in the lobby. And it was free. <br />
<br />
As we drove along to the airport, as I skimmed the paper, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be reading.<br />
<br />
I got pages into it and nothing. The good news for the voice is that we got into construction and it gave me more time to read through it. The bad news for Val is that I thought I might miss my plane.<br />
<br />
Then I saw it.<br />
<br />
A tiny little article on the mostly back pages of the paper. I knew it on sight. There was a familiarity that I had with this story I had never heard before.<br />
<br />
Sex-trafficking and slavery of (east) Indian women and girls.<br />
<br />
I felt something stir inside of me and the story was inadvertently tucked away in the back of my mind.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Remember what I said about being gone most of that month?<br />
<br />
When I returned home from the leadership academy, I was cleaning up old newspapers that had piled up from that month.<br />
<br />
One of them caught my eye. An article from weeks before. I am not Matt's grandma, so I don't pile up old papers waiting to catch time to read them. But one of them "called" to me...this article from weeks before.<br />
<br />
There was to be an art exhibition and guess what it was about...<br />
Sex-trafficked and sexual abuse of females in India. With a twist.<br />
<br />
I knew that article had been saved for me to find. Without doubt.<br />
<br />
So I went to the exhibit. I mean the voice had worked so hard to get me there.<br />
<br />
The twist of this exhibit is that it included the stories of Indian widows who are Hindu.<br />
<br />
As I read their stories and looked at the beautiful portraits of them, something swept through me. I cried in the middle of that exhibit hall. And I could not stop.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">You can read about the exhibit:</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">http://www.visitval.blogspot.com/2009/09/bob-builder-award-beloved-daughters-by.html</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">I attended the lecture of the photographer: Fazel Sheikh</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">http://www.visitval.blogspot.com/2009/09/wanna-take-field-trip-lets-go-see-fazal.html</span><br />
<br />
It is weird to me to read those blog posts now, given where the path has lead the last four years.<br />
The stirring feeling in my soul that has still yet to leave me.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Fast forward a year to June 2010<br />
I was doing my Rotary thing in Montreal, Canada when I met up with an old Rotary friend, Madu.<br />
<br />
Madu is East Indian, from Calcutta (now known as Kolkata).<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoU0Mraqnx_sdhL531rZ4juz7qykpeDQf2azj79CN4yd3zWq9nYF_MeqdL1WTqWGBMiShaK7f7FmCozKy4QkEaX7PtKbHlQCnLpZ-Q0SX-0vADZldoP4YPBk-705105VDVNN2Tir46xAQ/s1600/IMG_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoU0Mraqnx_sdhL531rZ4juz7qykpeDQf2azj79CN4yd3zWq9nYF_MeqdL1WTqWGBMiShaK7f7FmCozKy4QkEaX7PtKbHlQCnLpZ-Q0SX-0vADZldoP4YPBk-705105VDVNN2Tir46xAQ/s320/IMG_0082.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
She is a progressive mover and shaker in humanitarian works in Rotary and India.<br />
<br />
As we ate breakfast together one morning there in Montreal, I told her about about the widow exhibit I had seen the summer before. Is this real? Are those ladies really turned out from society?<br />
<br />
She told what I had learned was true. Worse than I had originally thought she said.<br />
<br />
There, over pieces of cantaloupe and melon, we decided to work together to do something about it.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
And we have.<br />
<br />
Later that year, 2010, Church Ladies extraordinaire Kathy, Cheryl, and my Girl pooled our talents together to create The Indian Widow Project.<br />
<br />
The goal of our project is to collect money to disperse to Hindu widows for business micro loans. A micro loan is a Nobel Peace Prize winning concept.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PW8rV2m3eaRCusDU8aYf8XJbSctikNrZ7mRhF3WPPdRqTIdIJsLCUB4ewirmzEewR-bCrvpYCrO41Qzacg59R2IlFPNQrVIAepBazf9R4we0DcY7ivHchkrYD_HKkUHZMg0-iP4IC0kQ/s1600/IMG_0443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PW8rV2m3eaRCusDU8aYf8XJbSctikNrZ7mRhF3WPPdRqTIdIJsLCUB4ewirmzEewR-bCrvpYCrO41Qzacg59R2IlFPNQrVIAepBazf9R4we0DcY7ivHchkrYD_HKkUHZMg0-iP4IC0kQ/s400/IMG_0443.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Jewelry making out of a</div>
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hardened apple shell</div>
<br />
The widows apply for loans ranging from $40 (jewelry making) all the way to $100 for the purchase of a cow. Our loan repayment plan includes the ladies make quarterly payments and have one year to repay their loan at 6% interest. The loans are guaranteed by the local non-profit in the widow's area with zero risk to Rotary. When the loan is repaid, the money is then used to give another loan to a new applicant. Recycling at it's best.<br />
<br />
My Rotary club, North Kansas City, holds the funds we collect until we are ready to send it. We have pooled our resources together with the Calcutta Uptown Rotary Club, which Madu is currently the president of. She carefully disperses the funds to ladies who have been vetted out by the non-profit groups we work with.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
When we started the project, I taped a small green envelop to side of the refrigerator so that I would see it everyday. It was the motivation for me to start saving for the day I would travel to meet them. It took me two and half years to get there, saving rebate refunds, Rotary reimbursements, etc...nothing out of the family budget.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
We have been back (the Girl and Mr. Fun's mother went with me) two weeks. I have had a little time process about what we saw and experienced. I journaled the trip and made my favorite kind of list: numbers<br />
<br />
7 planes, 28 security check points, 38 hours to Calcutta, 39 hours back, 4 countries, 11 1/2 hour time change, 24 countries recognized air spaces, 94 white people in 12 days in India, 9 Mormons, $1,500 loan monies given out, total number of people our hired car nudged--2, total of cars that nudged us--2, number of bikers we nudged with our car--1, 1 pick pocket incident, 3 days for the man from Nepal to wave at me, first friendly face--chicken slayer, a zillion feral dogs, 9 kids I would have brought home with me if I could have, 4 National Geographic photos that I missed, one 4 am surprising nun prayer over intercom, 3 times I recalled I have five cats, 1 in a 10,000,000 chance of meeting a boy that knows a boy from Eagle River Alaska who my buddy Tiel is a friend of, 12 delicious boiled eggs the man-servant made for me, and the percentage of chance I will return to Calcutta: 100%.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Everyone wants to know what India is like. Trying to be as respectful as I can, Calcutta is a catastrophic urban disaster. You can see it on TV. You can watch "Slumdog Millionaire" and think you get it. But you don't. You can't. <br />
<br />
For the first time in my life, I think I might have found some place without hope of recovery. At least on a the big scale.<br />
<br />
If you are living in these great United States, we really just have "first world" problems as my friend Alaska says. The cell phone won't charge. The dinner rolls burned on the bottom. The hot water heater is going out. In true perspective at least in my life, they are first world problems with first world solutions. Temporary set-backs.<br />
<br />
Imagine a city of 10,000,000 without a sanitation system.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLFeOOJ0JRq_fNISKXaoTTmwZe-8qJWxw-ErSiK-bfLr0UdVxBeSt7sSoYTY4yZ82ojEsSYGyVuLhNZM1ev3f2QQJbbM3cCrT1ZoVZxcqeNWAG9FH9UOrSSUJ92oM0tWLkQQBiqTiqztK/s1600/IMG_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLFeOOJ0JRq_fNISKXaoTTmwZe-8qJWxw-ErSiK-bfLr0UdVxBeSt7sSoYTY4yZ82ojEsSYGyVuLhNZM1ev3f2QQJbbM3cCrT1ZoVZxcqeNWAG9FH9UOrSSUJ92oM0tWLkQQBiqTiqztK/s400/IMG_0020.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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This a trash picker. They dig through the </div>
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zillions of pounds of recklessly-thrown trash on the street</div>
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for something of use </div>
<br />
Imagine a city of 10,000,000 beyond countless numbers of families living "on the pavement," meaning they sleep, eat, bath, cook, go to the bathroom, and raise a family on the street sidewalk.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Th4DC6NfddtpQTQr2KCaYV-GM4EAdMgg6CCFj1xxIBYrlJZhXuomOj_SS1fgzVKozwl9YvM5Ok35-I_0JcZ56NHWBcMshp9VQqgOi1Pvw-FQB4sSWh5hWaj8xSAJtbKrqzm5MG_T27DK/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Th4DC6NfddtpQTQr2KCaYV-GM4EAdMgg6CCFj1xxIBYrlJZhXuomOj_SS1fgzVKozwl9YvM5Ok35-I_0JcZ56NHWBcMshp9VQqgOi1Pvw-FQB4sSWh5hWaj8xSAJtbKrqzm5MG_T27DK/s640/IMG_0017.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
The sidewalk.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtjmP_XTHtcbfw02-SdRFGbD9FmFrEoZCSHPyO3K3y-eo_NavSlqm9EG7JV3SO25MSwg5foNAisFk7clX5l11jbAzfIvlwvXe0Gfo6u4pDOYqpH3GiaCXsaIkyYurgTlv5d92jpXOQUaE/s1600/IMG_0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtjmP_XTHtcbfw02-SdRFGbD9FmFrEoZCSHPyO3K3y-eo_NavSlqm9EG7JV3SO25MSwg5foNAisFk7clX5l11jbAzfIvlwvXe0Gfo6u4pDOYqpH3GiaCXsaIkyYurgTlv5d92jpXOQUaE/s400/IMG_0112.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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These folks are lucky because they have "walls" and a "roof"</div>
<br />
Imagine a city that only has grass in the few parks it has and the pollution is so bad that when you blow your nose, the snot is black. The city looked like a volcano has spewed it's ash over everything. The leaves of the trees are dark grey.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7N0q_v2g4v2DJP19Dlhv3k1fJT8DWk4BuwWwQeGdNuFoLLi6cHMX-UiiGSfBrTg9ULcefS9JGBCSs8YNb3KGiPyqKN2ICvSN3NdUWQKdpqt0gUnt9pMMlchwd2V9Ei6gtqFVs958jSzv/s1600/IMG_0181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7N0q_v2g4v2DJP19Dlhv3k1fJT8DWk4BuwWwQeGdNuFoLLi6cHMX-UiiGSfBrTg9ULcefS9JGBCSs8YNb3KGiPyqKN2ICvSN3NdUWQKdpqt0gUnt9pMMlchwd2V9Ei6gtqFVs958jSzv/s640/IMG_0181.JPG" width="427" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Many of the people we would see on the street looked focused, trying to safely get to where they wanted to go. Friendly is not a phrase I would use to describe their auras.<br />
<br />
They were so beautiful with their dark skins and colorful saris. The Girl said going out into the city was like going to a prom everyday.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMN13NreWMCPvFP4rCzrY4vw7NwnumWsf32i2N8sh3dkr3X4jivGJXfZM1X_8pZz_GoupoWEcS5ceVxZxuPlORCrtwMhB4hUut15SG3j7LDL_VWnkmEGMd5zI0zi0ReEeZFmWBQoMo0zi8/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMN13NreWMCPvFP4rCzrY4vw7NwnumWsf32i2N8sh3dkr3X4jivGJXfZM1X_8pZz_GoupoWEcS5ceVxZxuPlORCrtwMhB4hUut15SG3j7LDL_VWnkmEGMd5zI0zi0ReEeZFmWBQoMo0zi8/s400/IMG_0044.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
That said, when we interacted with them as individuals, they were wonderful. So accommodating and mindful of our well-being. They were so humble, perhaps due to their third world living. Whatever the reasons, Americans could take a lesson or two from their gentle ways.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2aBMi5_wA5qbebedr8tefk8WahpwMPJ0QQgNXMVzhzQcS5Hgh0LTP0AqUwMTsNyOs2FPRIzDPQSITMj8gpxGKXLdI589L878Gfx5rqLTpl_QQjsWDA1fvvZ-nuHQGhYXJHz5k8X_U1Icy/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2aBMi5_wA5qbebedr8tefk8WahpwMPJ0QQgNXMVzhzQcS5Hgh0LTP0AqUwMTsNyOs2FPRIzDPQSITMj8gpxGKXLdI589L878Gfx5rqLTpl_QQjsWDA1fvvZ-nuHQGhYXJHz5k8X_U1Icy/s400/IMG_0121.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Meeting the widows and their children was as humbling as I imagined. It is hard to put into words the look of love and appreciation that people can have for each other when they have never met or cannot have a conversation with.<br />
<br />
But it happens. I know it because it happened to me. And them.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAFssiok2yuP9F8gP4vXLdrDqDGCMWhKwSqTZQ4Y75avn4Bx5T8YABRSlNHBhDaf6R9ZE7NLVvbHdS7INCaxeMEehXC6IFGOktE_eLnz2eO6hU45HMxjEEKDjw3fq4erOxLrW6fT0znBB/s1600/IMG_0139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAFssiok2yuP9F8gP4vXLdrDqDGCMWhKwSqTZQ4Y75avn4Bx5T8YABRSlNHBhDaf6R9ZE7NLVvbHdS7INCaxeMEehXC6IFGOktE_eLnz2eO6hU45HMxjEEKDjw3fq4erOxLrW6fT0znBB/s640/IMG_0139.JPG" width="427" /></a></div>
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<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
The good news is we have collected over $7,000 in the last couple years.<br />
<br />
The bad news is it is not enough.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
My puny mortal mind had the thought that I would go see the women and the project, come home and move on with my life.<br />
<br />
I was wrong.<br />
<br />
I know that I am on the Lord's errand. Without sounding wacky, I know it. He has put it in my heart to know it.<br />
<br />
I am not at the end of project. I am at the beginning. The closure I thought I would have when I finally arrived to Calcutta actually did not come. It awakened something in my soul. That same kind of familiarity that I had with that tiny news article from the Dublin newspaper.<br />
<br />
I felt like it was home.<br />
<br />
I cried when I left the nuns of the village we were at. I cried when I left Calcutta. The kind of crying you have when you can't breath or catch your breath, except it didn't come out of my eye ducts. It came out of my spirit.<br />
<br />
Calcutta is part of me now. And I cannot leave it.<br />
<br />
They need me, and perhaps I need them.<br />
<br />
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Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me.The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-55955627565623040782013-01-01T21:11:00.001-06:002013-01-01T21:11:43.799-06:002012A big fatty hello to 2013. <br />
<br />
That said, I have no idea if I posted a "Best of..." list last year. Or ever. And frankly, I am too distracted by the cheesecake waiting for me in the fridge to go back and look.<br />
<br />
So, drum roll please.... The Val list of 2012's Some Best Stuff:<br />
(in no particular order)<br />
<br />Best unexpected long term house guests: The Temple Workers<br />
Best liberation from oppression: new beige carpet<br />
Best service I gave up: letting Mr. Fun lead the tours for the Temple Open House<br />
Best dessert: Red Velvet Cake--Bol Weeval Cafe, Augusta GA<br />
Best family fight: 2nd night of the cruise<br />
Best financial feeling: debt free trip to India and France (I saved for two years)<br />
Best service project: Giving away brownies to folks who voted in the election<br />
Best weather disappointment: Rain at Grand Turk<br />
Best dressed: Aubrey (she made me pick her...which if you know me, you know it wouldn't have been me)<br />
Best secret my father did not keep: My brother is having twins<br />
Best number of immunations for a third world country: 10<br />
Best reunion day: When Joey came "home" to us<br />
Best relief at the end of the school year: Boy passed<br />
Best drink: Mocktail Miami Vice<br />
Best something I learned about myself: I love birds. Singing, flying, and photographing them<br />
Best day: My day at Epcot with The Girl and besties<br />
Best drink aroma of a drink I didn't have: Rum at St. Thomas<br />
Best photographer moment: Photographer of the Month (March) for Mormon Church<br />
Best RYLA moment: When Dom said yes to taking over my Ex Director position<br />
Best emotional growth moment: When I heard a song that reminded me of Tom and I smiled instead of winced<br />
Best worth the wait moment: Going inside the new temple and see Dave and Carol sealed<br />
Best musical mustache moment: The monks of South Carolina<br />
Best outdoor activity: Watching movies at night on the cruise boat deck with free popcorn<br />
Best spectator of my photographs at the Temple Celebration: Thomas S. Monson<br />
Best new dream for 2013: new kitchen counter and sink<br />
<br />
Cheesecake on the first day of the new year? Perfect way to start!<br />
Love, ValThe Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-90029523334694179682012-12-15T10:36:00.000-06:002012-12-15T10:36:48.364-06:00The Hireling<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span>
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<span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">From the Holy Bible: </span></div>
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<span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">John 10: 11-14</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">11 </span>I am the good <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/john/10.13?lang=eng#" id="footnote11" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=john&chapterUri=10&noteID=11a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">shepherd</a>: the good <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">b</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/john/10.13?lang=eng#" id="footnote12" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=john&chapterUri=10&noteID=11b" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">shepherd</a> giveth his life for the sheep.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8129223893192037032" name="12" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">12 </span>But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/john/10.13?lang=eng#" id="footnote13" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=john&chapterUri=10&noteID=12a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">leaveth</a> the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8129223893192037032" name="13" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: blue; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span style="color: red;"><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">13 </span>The <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/john/10.13?lang=eng#" id="footnote14" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=john&chapterUri=10&noteID=13a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">hireling</a> fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a class="bookmark-anchor dontHighlight" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8129223893192037032" name="14" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </a><span class="verse" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 1px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">14 </span>I am the good <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/john/10.13?lang=eng#" id="footnote15" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=john&chapterUri=10&noteID=14a" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">shepherd</a>, and <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">b</sup><a class="footnote" href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/john/10.13?lang=eng#" id="footnote16" rel="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/chapter/footnote/default.xqy?lang=eng&volumeUri=nt&bookUri=john&chapterUri=10&noteID=14b" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: baseline;">know</a> my <sup class="studyNoteMarker" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">c</sup><span class="clarityWord" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">sheep,</span> and am known of mine.</span></div>
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I heard someone (not the Bible) once say that hirelings don't get it done. A hireling is someone who anciently was "hired" by the owner of the sheep. They lived with the sheep, fed the sheep, and stayed with the sheep. Even though the sheep were not theirs.</div>
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With them not being the true shepherd, the scriptures say that when danger comes upon the sheep, a hireling that is not invested would run away. I can believe it.</div>
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I guess I have always thought of as a lack of commitment or dedication.</div>
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There are some jobs that we even now as "hirelings" would run away from. I don't want to list what I think those might be, because everyone feels differently about their jobs. I have always applied it to myself, as a mother. I have stayed home, 20 years now, by choice because I think that in regards to my baby goats, I can do a better job than a hireling.</div>
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I don't expect everyone to feel this way, or think that I am judging those mothers who do not stay home. I have no opinion in regards to your decisions as a mother or father. This is just the judgement that Mr. Fun and I have made for ourselves regarding our family.</div>
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I think I have applied this thought to more situations than I should have. My dad owned a business for a couple decades and I NEVER thought that his employees had as much emotionally invested as he and my mom did. They showed up late. They showed up hung over. That is if they showed up at all. They were "hirelings."</div>
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To my credit, there is one area that I have never thought folks were just "hirelings."<br />
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School teachers.</div>
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If I have said it once, I have said it a million times....I love teachers. Especially public school teachers and administrators.</div>
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Always have.</div>
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I served about a decade in PTA. Including as a president, a million committees and boards. I read and believed the studies that parents who are involved " on the ground" in the classroom or have a presence somewhere in the school, their children do better in school. </div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">I have been blessed with great kiddos. I think they </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">accomplish actually despite my parenting sometimes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">But because I believed what I had read, I started working in my local elementary school before The Girl was even in kindergarten. My bestie Lori watched her when I went to do my small part with the kids.</span></span></div>
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Nothing changed when she started school. And as The Boy got older, I dragged him with me, too.</div>
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He used to hang out with the custodian, Jay, who was his favorite fella ever. They worked in the gym together, changed sprinkler heads together, and when I would wander where Boy was, I always knew he was in the loving care of Jay. Jay was delightful with my little four year old son, and we even to this day still get a Christmas card from Jay and his family each year. </div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">There are some teachers in our lives that have gone beyond what they were paid for. There is Kelly Kline who loved Girl into talking. There was Mrs. Barnes who was the first to tell me the Girl was right-brained and I should read a book about unicorns. She was also the teacher who also used her own money to install air conditioning in her own room in a building in hot Utah falls that has none so the kiddos were more comfy. There was Mrs. Van Ballas who spent two years tutoring Boy at the kitchen table and will be sitting next to us at his high school graduation. There is Mrs. Armstong who made the Boy's transition to Missouri easier. There is Mr. Mayabb who told me that Girl was "brilliant" at military history, the same Girl who is now a collegiate History major. There is Mrs. Burgess who has finagled a way for Boy to stay home for on-school, while still registered as a student in the district in a state that has no on-line public program. There is even Ms. Nixon who taught a unit about brushing their teeth, using a tube of Crest as her example of toothpaste. To this very single day, the Girl will not use anything else but Crest. And there is Principal Newell and her funny husband "Dr. Noodleman" (as the Boy called him) who had my back when I got some ridiculous emails from some crazy while I was serving as PTA president.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">These are folks who certainly did not act as "hirelings." </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">They acted as co-parents to my children. And a friend to me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">And I give them the respect they deserve as such.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Some of my best friends are educators. Sheri, one of my besties I met in 7th grade, who, just this week as a good Mormon girl, could have used a drink. Tiel, who has a gift that he could no longer use to support his growing family with. Dave V, who I may not speak with for years, but we could pick up right now like it has only been days. There is Laura L, my buddy here in KC whose 4th grade class helped raise over $10,000.00 for the Ronald McDonald House. I spend months every year planning RYLA with the most amazing educators who actually lose money in the work like Marilyn and Rachel. Even The Girl's boyfriend's mother and sister are educators.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Which brings me to my point.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Last night, I was feeling like everyone else. Shocked. Amazed. Vomiting a little in my mouth when I heard that the parents of all the dead were in the same room when they heard "there will be no more reunions today." I cannot, even in the greater dark depths of my mind--which admittedly are not that dark or deep--imagine what those sounds sounded like.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">I cried. Just like many of you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">And then I thought of the hirelings.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">I very well could have been in that meeting with the principal and school psychologist who could have been discussing my son. I have had many, many of those meetings, which can be hard on a good day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">I could have been in those classrooms, decorating with National Geographic pictures or counting box tops with the kids. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">But I wasn't. It was, technically, the "hirelings."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Last night, in an interview, one of those hirelings said when she heard the shooting start, she said she did not have the luxury of losing control. She had 19 five-year-olds to keep in control as well. So what does the "hireling" do when someone is just down the hall killing their peers and her boss? Her friends?<br /><br />She locked the door. With herself inside.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">She gathered them around in the corner of the room.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">And she read them a story.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">I am not a shepherd of many. I do not know what great responsibility lays on the hireling.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">There is a teacher from my hometown, Mrs. F, that half the town must have had. This is what she said on the Facebook today:</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><span style="color: red;">Having been in lockdown with students, you never forget the</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: red; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"> feeling and responsibility. Tragedies like this bring back all those feelings. Many people out there are quick to put teachers down, but those teachers are ready and willing to lay their lives on the line for their students when the need arises.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;">And I know the "hirelings" who have educated me and my children would have done the same thing for their "sheep." I know they really are "shepherds" and </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;"><span style="color: red;">would</span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;"> lay down their life. For the sheep they did not bear themselves.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;">These Connecticut hirelings heard the wolf coming. </span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;">And they did not "fleeth."</span><br />
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;"><br />God bless the educator.</span><br />
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 22px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><br />
<span style="color: #2f393a; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>PS:</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><i>Ironically, when I was double-checking my spelling for this blog, I stumbled across this dictionary defination</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i></i></span><br />
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<span class="hdwrap">buttress</span></i></span></h2>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>
<span class="hdwrap"> </span><span id="nonfav" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-color: transparent; background-image: url(http://static.sfdict.com/en/i/dictionary/newserp/Sprite_Serp.png); background-position: -673px -475px; background-repeat: repeat repeat; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 19px; left: 7px; margin-right: 0px; position: relative; top: 5px; width: 30px; z-index: 5;"><a href="http://app.dictionary.com/signup/core?source=favorites&fnCallback=loginuser&callbackAction=addToFav&domaindest=reference.com&logindest=http%3A%2F%2Fdictionary.reference.com%2Fwordoftheday" id="fncyb" style="color: #333333; display: block; height: 18px; text-decoration: initial; width: 30px;"></a></span> <span class="show_spellpr" style="margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 4px;"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">\ </span><span class="pron" style="color: #333333; display: inline;"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">BUH-tris</span> </span><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">\ </span></span><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"> , </span><span class="pron pos" style="color: #333333; display: inline;"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">verb;</span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<div class="hdrnts" style="color: #333333; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
</div>
</div>
<div class="defns rr_wid" style="background-color: white; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; top: 0px; width: 744px;">
<i><span class="pron pos" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"></span></i><br />
<div class="def rr_wid" style="margin: 0px; padding: 2px 0px 0px; position: relative; width: 744px;">
<div class="nbr" style="border-right-style: none; color: #7b7b7b; float: left; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; padding: 2px 0px 0px; position: relative; width: 15px;">
<span id="hotword" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; position: static;"><i>1.</i></span></div>
<div class="defn" style="color: #333333; left: 7px; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px; padding: 2px 0px 0px; position: relative; width: 688px;">
<span id="hotword" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; position: static;"><i><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default; position: static;">To</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">give</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">encouragement</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default; position: static;">support</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default; position: static;">to</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default; position: static;">(a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default; position: static;">person,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">plan,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">etc.). Sounds like a teacher to me!</span></i></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-52750649186828429992012-12-11T15:39:00.001-06:002012-12-11T15:39:50.587-06:00"Heeey, sexy lady...."<a href="http://www.jibjab.com/view/l0H6tgsIT56jzJsaPdy3bQ?utm_campaign=My+Timeline+Not+Connected&utm_medium=Share&utm_source=Facebook&cmpid=fb_nc">See me get my Korean on!</a><br />
<br />
Another yearly installment of the Jib Jab fun!The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-78978562625437836932012-11-20T22:33:00.002-06:002012-11-20T22:33:15.079-06:00Bob the Builder Award: Pie in the Sky<br />
<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
<img height="332" src="http://andreasrecipes.com/photos/Key_lime_pie.jpg" width="400" /></div>
<br />
Did you know a $25 pie can feed someone for a entire week?<br /><br />I like those kind of numbers.<br />
<br />
In the spirit of the season, I thought you should read something worth your time. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.pieinthesky.org/events/pies/">http://www.pieinthesky.org/events/pies/</a><br />
<br />
I love America and how Americans work together in creative ways to help each other.<br />
<br />God bless America. Please. :)The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-61730482311024112362012-10-30T08:47:00.003-05:002012-10-30T08:51:58.535-05:00Bob the Builder Award: Manti Teo--Families are ForeverI don't know football.<br />
<br />
But I do know Mormons.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQ2XFZjgpNNtFrd00fn0pVvNVwhyJBrS2-Nuztpx8svdvJmMH81T-nCso3KFuhG5hcl_ffX0tX7WypbVgg2oBgt0-FcIihNZUWZjswQcLCtS4K2mYdN8mQDzV1T-jJdOlLzoqz3391Gt2/s1600/elite-daily-manti-teo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQ2XFZjgpNNtFrd00fn0pVvNVwhyJBrS2-Nuztpx8svdvJmMH81T-nCso3KFuhG5hcl_ffX0tX7WypbVgg2oBgt0-FcIihNZUWZjswQcLCtS4K2mYdN8mQDzV1T-jJdOlLzoqz3391Gt2/s400/elite-daily-manti-teo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We are Christians.<br />
<br />
We have faith.<br />
<br />
And we have the ability to put our rubber to the road when necessary.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://ldsliving.com/story/70658-espn-video-lds-athlete-manti-teo-relies-on-faith-to-overcome-tragedy">http://ldsliving.com/story/70658-espn-video-lds-athlete-manti-teo-relies-on-faith-to-overcome-tragedy</a><br />
<br />
Thanks to my Mom, for this Bob the Builder story.The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-44637743332652003882012-10-09T09:38:00.002-05:002012-10-09T09:40:12.957-05:00Bob the Builder Award: "Marathon Man"Meet Martin Parnell.<br />
<br />
Snow, sleet and the dead of heat summer will not stop him.<br />
<br />
Nope, he is not a postal worker (shout out to ours--Mark!). But he is Canadian.<br />
<br />
And he is a marathoner.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8zzs3Z5taqG6tV89NMcTZEcKuI-IIL92pyXAjLFq0h03YsB3BPcg_-GP9NOeezOnj3D3oa22W24xYl49Z0Kofdy-3P4Ta156i6ELObRLEotPhfZPhKYwwQUOWlwai0s_WiA-Q7GgkKoP/s1600/martinparnell2009bmovm-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8zzs3Z5taqG6tV89NMcTZEcKuI-IIL92pyXAjLFq0h03YsB3BPcg_-GP9NOeezOnj3D3oa22W24xYl49Z0Kofdy-3P4Ta156i6ELObRLEotPhfZPhKYwwQUOWlwai0s_WiA-Q7GgkKoP/s640/martinparnell2009bmovm-1.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
He is not your everyday, run-of-the-mill (pun intended) marathoner.<br />
<br />
In 2010, he ran 250 marathons. Yes, you read that right. In <span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">ONE</span> year.<br />
<br />
That averages FIVE A WEEK! Just a mere 6,550 miles.<br />
<br />
Mark is a ROTARIAN (in Portugal, they were say "clato" which translates to "well, of course" in the tone my mother would say it) and believes that all kids should have the chance to play sports. <br />
<br />
So, as the Rotarian way goes, Mark put his money where his mouth is. He has a goal to raise $1,000,000.00 for a group called "Right to Play." They are non-profit organization that specializes in bringing sporting opportunities to disadvantaged kids.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEBaENkwCnQRNjROwcBWjq2nEXLvDqnaI6bLjcpBdBKMxK3HYhWktAf2goT3wwP0n_xwSzrJXm5z0SWk608tPgpX715v2qH9FxVa-r54amlMPOS-rteTh0hGCo76aZ0YVbQZQhnXMm0uz/s1600/MartinParnell2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEBaENkwCnQRNjROwcBWjq2nEXLvDqnaI6bLjcpBdBKMxK3HYhWktAf2goT3wwP0n_xwSzrJXm5z0SWk608tPgpX715v2qH9FxVa-r54amlMPOS-rteTh0hGCo76aZ0YVbQZQhnXMm0uz/s400/MartinParnell2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Marathons are not the only way he is working to achieve this goal.<br />
<br />
The other is venturing out on 10 "quests" which already include setting two world records. Read about one of them here....<br />
<br />
<a href="http://metronews.ca/news/calgary/117826/local-marathon-man-shoots-to-set-a-new-lacrosse-record/">http://metronews.ca/news/calgary/117826/local-marathon-man-shoots-to-set-a-new-lacrosse-record/</a><br />
<br />
This is just one, of many reasons, that I am proud to be a Rotarian. :) <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ready, set</span>, GO MARK!The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-20213597356646364292012-09-21T11:39:00.001-05:002012-09-21T11:42:40.343-05:00Men in Green<div align="center" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
</div>
I started some random essay years ago for no good reason called "Everything I need to know I learned from men in green."<br />
<br />
I made a list of famous men wearing green/being green and what one could learn from them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRG9gypxdkJOkjTPU3pJ9erRAaoucJNg_a3eBgw1QQDM_TjbeLl" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" height="158" name="zGpdUBYNA4aFsM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRG9gypxdkJOkjTPU3pJ9erRAaoucJNg_a3eBgw1QQDM_TjbeLl" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="200" /></a></div>
I got the idea when I had just had some great medication from having an outpatient procedure.<br />
<br />
I figured that some of life's most pivotal key lessons were somehow connected to the color green.<br />
See what I mean. Great meds!<br />
<br />
I haven't seen the paper list around until I stumbled into it a few days ago.<br />
<br />
Thought you might enjoy it too.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Yoda: wisdom<br />
Green army men: loyalty<br />
<img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="194" data-width="259" height="299" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQkdCsX7surrwdtbQBgS9F7gzlKVWfJ8hwrJFxpTD9NmkTefuMpdQ" style="height: 194px; width: 259px;" width="400" /><br />
<br />
Ompaa Lumpaas: honesty<br />
Incredible Hulk: anger management<br />
Kermit: all-around nice guy<br />
Oscar the Grouch: crankiness<br />
Robin Hood: charity<br />
Greedo: a lasting impression<br />
<img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="189" data-width="267" height="189" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRans7j62G-XxfYnJYwxLTASBjfP-MYhpwAw_K3_1De34V6dazL" style="height: 189px; width: 267px;" width="267" /><br />
<br />
Grinch: grudges<br />
Green berets: effective training<br />
Riddler: give it away<br />
Green Goblin: success at any price<br />
Budwiser Frogs: teamwork<br />
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSve3yqC3fMqJ40fgERp6hGwI3pbvQLRmNWzYAhrhnYatcY4YTL" imageanchor="1"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="188" data-width="268" height="280" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSve3yqC3fMqJ40fgERp6hGwI3pbvQLRmNWzYAhrhnYatcY4YTL" style="height: 188px; width: 268px;" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
Gecko for Geico: make something boring fun<br />
Toy Story Rex: fear<br />
Telly Tubbies: good intentions<br />
Alligator from Happy Gilmore: karma<br />
Peter Pan: immaturity<br />
Lyle Lyle Crocodile: love in the family, regardless of species<br />
Green pants with nobody inside them: jumping to conclusions<br />
Sneetches with green stars on their bellies: peer pressure<br />
<br />
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRIUTwmkMg5nPPhoCv4Px7Ft1hHw2w9JmyiyaTsZw7XgTXmg8aHZQ" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="156" data-width="192" height="520" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRIUTwmkMg5nPPhoCv4Px7Ft1hHw2w9JmyiyaTsZw7XgTXmg8aHZQ" style="height: 156px; width: 192px;" width="640" /></a><br />
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Crocodile from Peter Pan: memories<br />
Forest soldiers from the Endor moon: succeeding with what you have available<br />
<br />
Have a great weekend! ValsyThe Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-21095855052484740832012-09-18T09:06:00.001-05:002012-09-18T09:06:46.682-05:00Bob the Builder Award: Bob wears a TutuMeet Bob. <br />
<br />
Not Bob the Builder. That Bob is safe and sound in his basement, still creating dollhouses.<br />
<br />
Wearing his pants....not a pink tutu.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
This Bob, the award winner today, travels and wears a pink tutu.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thetutuproject.com/">http://www.thetutuproject.com/</a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQ7DImrtUQqRgxBfszUyTX9a3skp3kATj2KLbDwluJu60zsB8C7-oySnwWMnRu59hDQi7VLLDrja44dO_7yhSXfnSIZ4Wxbk2ye1IDCQiNYeoPeASyZA-wAGk2ei9BHEfIRow43qc7AvG/s1600/snow_final_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQ7DImrtUQqRgxBfszUyTX9a3skp3kATj2KLbDwluJu60zsB8C7-oySnwWMnRu59hDQi7VLLDrja44dO_7yhSXfnSIZ4Wxbk2ye1IDCQiNYeoPeASyZA-wAGk2ei9BHEfIRow43qc7AvG/s400/snow_final_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It is his way of raising money to fight breast cancer. Go Bob!The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-2508444719681466412012-09-11T09:35:00.002-05:002012-09-11T09:35:45.760-05:00How Walt Disney defined my visionDear Walt (as in Disney),<br />
<br />
My name is Valerie and I am simple woman from a simple background.<br />
<br />
I grew up without the instant availability of french fries, a stoplight, or home delivery of the mail.<br />
<br />
We lived in the Great White North, where we didn't lock our doors even when we went on vacation, kids would hold their graduation parties in gravel pits, and the first true crush I even had was a boy in 5th grade named Travis who I actually heard from on the Facebook just this morning.<br />
<br />
No Internet. No computer. No cable. <br />
<br />
My dad was a working man, my mom a working mom, and often times money was tight. We didn't get out of Alaska much so when we did, it was really impactful.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
It is funny that I have ended up in Missouri now. Your home state. I have been to your hometown of Marceline (ate some Sonic.) Stood in your dad's old butcher shop. I had a job offer from the Art Institute that you briefly studied at. You and I have ties. :)<br />
<br />
Which leads me to my point of this letter....<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Thank you, Walt.<br />
<br />
What is that? you say.<br />
<br />
Let me say it again. "Thank you, Walt." From one Missourian to another.<br />
<br />
When I was in the fourth grade, my parents pulled me out of school for an extended vacation during the school year. My dad was a roofer so we were not able to travel in the summer. That was work season.<br />
<br />
So, we tromped around Hawaii and then spent some time in California, in which we got to go to Disneyland.<br />
<br />
I remember all of it very clearly, including coveting the Minnie Mouse stuffed animal with the polka dot dress and the big red bow that I wanted sooooo bad but was too scared to tell my grandma when she asked me if I wanted anything. <br />
<br />
There is one ride that just completely bowled me over.<br />
<br />
It's A Small World. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dIGXV1ycKLBDm0irFiJu9HDyC8OFq83mfeBvocsBBJClq8vL48c3mWOZuDpQ2gWFP0CDgJfK-D697sv6fmj_IW8z9KJbmMC48dZ6sf_bdwtc372Vk3sDo3ebeQ0ykpd8UveCVh9M6Tgs/s1600/IMG_0059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dIGXV1ycKLBDm0irFiJu9HDyC8OFq83mfeBvocsBBJClq8vL48c3mWOZuDpQ2gWFP0CDgJfK-D697sv6fmj_IW8z9KJbmMC48dZ6sf_bdwtc372Vk3sDo3ebeQ0ykpd8UveCVh9M6Tgs/s400/IMG_0059.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I never knew such a world exsisted. <br />
<br />
I knew the song before I knew it was a ride. I had the record you know.<br />
<br />
It wasn't the ride itself that impacted me. It was the pictures my mother took during it that so profoundly influenced me---after the ride.<br />
<br />
After we got home and she eventually put the pictures of the dolls from the ride in an album. I looked at them so much growing up that I thought I would look the ink right off the paper.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFpFWjqwoVwWPiOQm2N7V6lVR1B2q_9rfSrymXqSOYiwWgNbdJA8aEGzFUzWn0Rcr-cW_nAfITqm7NPtDxPWJmsjizVRNDE0UKMm5BXUXgxVKHVBki2xpa68Zx6xxca-HbG3D93BOz26p/s1600/IMG_0045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFpFWjqwoVwWPiOQm2N7V6lVR1B2q_9rfSrymXqSOYiwWgNbdJA8aEGzFUzWn0Rcr-cW_nAfITqm7NPtDxPWJmsjizVRNDE0UKMm5BXUXgxVKHVBki2xpa68Zx6xxca-HbG3D93BOz26p/s400/IMG_0045.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I wanted to be where those dolls where. South America. Asia. Scandinavia. See the costumes. Hear the music. It spoke to my soul, even as a kid. <br />
<br />
I never forgot that there was a whole world out there, waiting for me to see it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzz9Qx6y0GHojVJHBMGiU1ZhpupnirbwhtZ87X-0rMufUBHyXgQPtojjtzQONpfBuKH0I0YBfUz6PCxIfeEHr1ypIny9RqL1Kv0LTCrHWC0z19xAMmBol2oKUR1jpt8pC4IuIDOLPpPOO/s1600/IMG_0083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzz9Qx6y0GHojVJHBMGiU1ZhpupnirbwhtZ87X-0rMufUBHyXgQPtojjtzQONpfBuKH0I0YBfUz6PCxIfeEHr1ypIny9RqL1Kv0LTCrHWC0z19xAMmBol2oKUR1jpt8pC4IuIDOLPpPOO/s400/IMG_0083.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
So I've gone. A lot.<br />
<br />
A couple weeks ago we went to Disney World for my first time, and we went on the Small World ride. <br />
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And those feelings from 33 years ago came flooding back to me. <br />
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This time, I took my own pictures so I can visit whereever whenever I want to. :)<br />
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Thanks, Walt, for your vision. It has broadened mine.The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-47373033476749194322012-08-28T19:41:00.001-05:002012-08-28T19:41:59.836-05:00Southern SuperlativesWhen I was in high school, they had goofy awards called "Senior Superlatives."<br />
You know them.....awards voted on by your classmates. There was"Best Dressed" (I didn't win that--surprised? :) ), "Best Hair" (I didn't win that either--I mean I should have....I have had the same hair since 3rd grade so it must be working), and "Best Couple" who of course broke up not too long after marriage and have remarried other people. I did have a serious boyfriend so I technically could have won that one with him, but ends up that he was really gay and it can neither be confirmed that I was his "beard" for the time. Apparently my classmates knew we weren't the best couple...which a good friend should have pointed it out. Thanks Sheri.<br />
<br />
Man, sure miss high school. Not.<br />
<br />
Mr. Fun should have won "Best 501s" (seriously), and "Best Dressed" but he was beat out by the one dress outfit the winner wore often. I voted for him in both categories. He should have won "Smartest" too....I mean after all, he did marry me. :) (In case you don't know, we went to high school together which is fun when we hear girly gossip about our hometown we can equally enjoy it).<br />
<br />
I did actually win some superlatives. "Most Spirited," "Everybody's Buddy," and "Most Unforgettable." Nothing to do with clothing or hair. :)<br />
<br />
So, having just spent basically a month in a moving vehicle, traveling 5,909 miles in the last 30 days, it gives you time to think. <br />
<br />
I noticed that I had an overabundance of leg hair. Which wasn't my fault since I hadn't had a hot shower in three days in our hotel in Florida. <br />
<br />
I noticed that the back seat is more spacious than the front.<br />
<br />
And it gave me time make up my own "senior superlatives." Southern style.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
And the winners are....in no particular order:<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">~Southern Superlatives~</span></div>
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Smelliest state: Louisana (until the end when it smelled like potato salad with pickles)</div>
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Worst city to drive in: Nashville, Tennessee</div>
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Unexpected surprise of beauty: Eufuana, Alabama</div>
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Coolest trees: a tie Cemetery in Florida</div>
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Driveway of plantation in Charleston, SC</div>
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Biggest chain: Not Wal-Mart. Cracker Barrel</div>
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Prettiest temple grounds: St. Louis, Missouri</div>
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Biggest Sassafras tree: As the sign said, "probably" Owensboro, Kentucky</div>
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Smellest mildew hotel room: Little Rock, Arkansas</div>
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Missed opportunity: Vicksburg, Louisana</div>
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Longest duration we were lost: Sulphur Well, Kentucky for one hour</div>
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Best recycling of a fort: Fort Moultrie (for five wars) Charleston, SC</div>
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I can't stop staring: Star Wars Convention, Orlando Florida</div>
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Something Sheri missed out on: Willie Nelson Gift Shop, Nashville, TN</div>
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Total states driven through: 12</div>
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Peaches from the side of the road: South Carolina</div>
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Best chinese food: Orlando, Florida</div>
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Biggest invocation of "white man" guilt: Slave cabins of Boone Plantation Charleston, SC</div>
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What were they thinking? Stone Mountain Atlanta, Georgia</div>
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Strangest things we heard on the radio: tie: gospel tent revivals (Alabama)</div>
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Kasey Kasem Countdown from 1971 (Florida)</div>
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Sisters doing it for themselves: Sweetgrass baskets of Highway 17, Charleston, SC </div>
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Looks like Missouri: Northern Arkansas</div>
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Worst drought: Missouri</div>
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2nd smelliest state: Alabama</div>
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Coolest "Gone with the Wind" southern staircase: Bowling Green, Kentucky</div>
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Boiled peanuts on the side of the road: Georgia</div>
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Best hosts: tie Andersons: antiquing, Shark Week, fried green tomatos --Georgia</div>
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Phillips: Cuban, beach, Star Wars Dave--Florida</div>
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You might go to jail if you take a rock from the ground: Fort Sumter, SC</div>
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Speedy drivers: the entire South</div>
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No hot water in the hotel: Orlando, Florida</div>
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Best dead ancestors: Exie, Kentucky</div>
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Rudest guests: tie: Mammoth Cave, Kentucky</div>
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Disneyworld, Orlando, Florida</div>
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Marketing snafoo: Hurricane Isaac report followed by the "Come visit the Gulf" campaign</div>
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Best Marilyn Monroe impersonation: The Girl in her Sunday dress in front of the chip delivery guy</div>
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Best meditative moment/God is Amazing: Daytona Beach, Florida at night</div>
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Safari vacation location sign: Peru Arkansas</div>
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Most admired "genuine Mormon": Daniel Logan</div>
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Looking out for my best interest: John Tesh and his helpful tips Lousiana</div>
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Almost vomit your Mexican dinner on the space ride: Epcot, Orlando Florida</div>
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Makes me want to march: Selma, Alabama</div>
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Hooary!: Boyfriend emails the address Atlanta, Georgia</div>
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Darkest black: Mammoth Cave, Kentucky</div>
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Bug Holocaust: Louisana</div>
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You are kidding me: Kingdom City, Missouri (the air conditioning stopped working three hours into the 17 day trip....nice)</div>
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Holy Ghost moment: Charleston, South Carolina</div>
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Opps!: Missed three birthdays</div>
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You are kidding me Part 2: Hurrican Isaac interrupts the convention and no New Orleans on the trip</div>
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Nicest homeless man: Burger King, Daytona Beach, Florida</div>
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No hot water in public restrooms: the entire South</div>
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Largest speedway: Daytona, Florida</div>
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Best town name: Jane, Missouri</div>
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Probably not again: Disneyworld Orlando, Florida</div>
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No paper towels in restrooms: entire South</div>
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Eaten alive by mosquitos: Charleston, South Carolina</div>
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Best Henna tattoo: Epcot Orlando, Florida</div>
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Best handbar moustache on a monk: Mepkin Abbey, Monks Corner, S Carolina</div>
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"We almost died": Freeway, Jacksonville, Florida rush hour in the rainstorm</div>
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It is really red dirt like on Tara Plantation: Georgia</div>
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You know you're in the south: 4 windows in a trailer covered with Confederate flags Kentucky</div>
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New found loves: tie--not cooking for 17 days</div>
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watching tv in bed</div>
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Should have left it at home: Tolkein book, DAR application</div>
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Stangest stowaway in the car: Dave's church suit</div>
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Is there somewhere to pull off for a picture: the entire South</div>
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Irony: "Trees for the future." Next to a grove of dead trees Arkansas</div>
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Weird to see: going to the beach with friends you never seen in swimsuits Florida</div>
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Third smelliest state: South Carolina</div>
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The most argumentative member of our group: The TomTom (Garmin). Named Leia.</div>
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Walmarts on the side of the road: 28 (The Girl had guessed 27)</div>
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"You've been talking in your sleep:" The Girl entire south</div>
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Best religious song I have ever heard: 1st song by the monks</div>
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Smoothest reflective water: Florida</div>
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Best car snacks: melted clumpy snackwells </div>
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Favorite t-shirt slogan I saw: "I had friends on that Death Star." Florida</div>
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Prettiest views: Arkansas and Tennessee</div>
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Best gas station: White Oak Rogers, Arkansas</div>
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Movie star interaction: Seth Green Orlando, Florida</div>
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Pharmacy of the South: Walgreens. CVS? Forget about it. Entire South</div>
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Odd couple: bacon lollipop Arkansas</div>
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Temples seen: 5</div>
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Boringest landscape: Missouri</div>
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Best Salad: Orlando, Florida</div>
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Most humbling moment: Precious treasures of slaves South Carolina</div>
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Cheapest Meal: Rich Hill, Missouri</div>
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Most states covered in one day: 6</div>
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Best imitation of a baked potato: Stone Mountain, Georgia</div>
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Rick Springfield's "best work": Jessie's Girl Arkansas</div>
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Most new buildings: Joplin, Missouri</div>
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Best guest driver: Dave Florida</div>
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Favorite unexpected stop: the abbey South Carolina</div>
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Party like a rock star: The Girl....hair stylist, costume mistress, chef, drivers, and handlers</div>
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Priceless: Time with my daughter and great friend Carol :)</div>
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The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-73137680011677795002012-08-25T21:21:00.003-05:002012-08-25T21:21:33.837-05:00"If you are not a Sith Lord, wait to be called."Tonight ends the fun and games of life in a galaxy far, far away.<br />
<br />
Fortunately for you, we had one last day full of trooping, costume handling, and lots of mostly naked women.<br />
<br />
In no particular order:<br />
*Aubrey attended some super bash last night and got to meet some famous people I have never heard of. :)<br />
*48 "Slave Leia" costumed chicks<br />
*12 folks in kilts<br />
*Count Dokou and OB1 Kenobi had to run and catch the bus. Why didn't they just use the Force to stop us from moving?<br />
*No hot water in our hotel room<br />
*Class called "Ladies of the Legion."j<br />
*The jedis on the bus got so excited to get to the conference that they shoved their way off before everyone else.<br />
*Jesus was there again today. This time he was in a volunteer shirt and modeling service to others.<br />
*I wore my "It's A Von Trapp" t shirt.<br />
*"I didn't join to be awesome. It just happened." Aubrey<br />
*Met a guy named Ted (from Tampa) who hung out with us for a while.<br />
*Stormtroppers had chapped thighs.<br />
*There was a Royal Red Guard Flash Mob with Darth and the Emperor.<br />
*Talk about a photo frenzy.<br />
*"You should put your spanks on before you put on that costume." Ouch.<br />
*"If you are not a Sith Lord, wait to be called."<br />
*"Bounty hunters to the left. Sith Lords to the right."<br />
*Near fist fight between Padme in her travel outfit and some foreign woman.<br />
*Beaker Stormtrooper checked his head in coat check.<br />
*There was a wedding performed on the stairs after the bad guy photograph.<br />
*We ate lunch with a Jawa.<br />
*One of the Boba Fetts was carrying a cowboy gun and holster.<br />
*A Jedi Robe set costs $800<br />
*Carol and I did a lot of people watching. And mocking. Good thing Service Jesus wasn't around us.<br />
*There was a Darth Vadar with a garbage bag cape.<br />
*There was a Han Solo with a pig head.<br />
*T shirt that said "I am kind of a big deal in Wisconsin."<br />
*Grandma with knitted buns for her hair.<br />
*There was a Leia with fishnet stockings.<br />
*Tiny baby Wookee<br />
*Joker was there<br />
*Spare tires on a body are not good. Spare tires painted blue are even worse.<br />
*There was a sign that said "Jason loves boobies." Maybe he should meet those Boobie Fetts.<br />
*Last but not least, two Boba Fetts in leisure suits.<br />
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This is my second convention. It was fun to be with Aubrey and Carol. It was fun to have a costumed member of our party so that we can learn the inside secrets of the convention. I am glad I came.<br />
<br />
Pictures today:<br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151163324690042.493049.532120041&type=1&l=8cf073b1f1">http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151163324690042.493049.532120041&type=1&l=8cf073b1f1</a><br />
<br />
Since the hurricane is coming tomorrow, we are going home a day early. <br />
Hope you have enjoyed the convention.<br />ValsyThe Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-28591927265597649082012-08-24T20:42:00.002-05:002012-08-24T20:42:40.995-05:00CVI Day 2: "Chewy Envy"Steller day today.<br />
<br />
20 Slave Leias. One with a Batman tattoo. Duh.<br />
<br />
I went early with the girl to be her handler (translation: carry her junk around) while she was with the other troopers so regular folks can get their pictures with her.<br />
<br />
I took notes for you, "non geeks" as I learned I was today so you could enjoy the day, too.<br />
<br />
In no particular order:<br />
*Everyone went through a weapons check today. Apparently others thought they should be checking the plastics guns yesterday too.<br />
*A little Darth Vader was told by his mom today when he was by R2D2 that he should have "nice touches" on the robot.<br />
*It is amazing the impromptu photo shoots that go on here.<br />
*When the Slave Leias showed up at the photo shoot, one guy said to his buddy "I must have."<br />
* There was a very "interested" Tuskin Raider. He had no camera. Took his helmet off. Obviously taking pictures with his heart. Duh.<br />
*Men ran up to see the Leias. "That is a SWEEET line up. Delicious!"<br />
*Saw 13 kilters today<br />
*Bigger Boobie Fett today (I don't name them)<br />
*"I had to put my hand in my pee." <br />
*Daniel Logan, the little boy who was Boba Fett: genuine Mormon!<br />
*Love was in the air at the "Plan your Star Wars wedding" class. <br />
*Miss Australian United Nations, fully in sash and crown, was at the celebration. ?<br />
*"Mixed fan-dom marriages can work." (translation: star wars fan/lord of the rings)<br />
*www.whengeekswed.com<br />
*www.thinkgeek.com<br />
*"those people"....(regular non star wars fans) (us)<br />
*I gave away a free dinner coupon to a nerdy man that came to the conference alone.<br />
*"It's raining men" sung by a man in a bowling shirt<br />
*A little happy surprise: hotel shuttle to the center<br />
*"My high heels make me tall and awesome."<br />
*A Chewbacca guy we were with said he had "Chewy envy" because he had left his chewy stilts at home in Wisconsin and the other Chewys had theirs here. Epic fail.<br />
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Pictures:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151161372160042.492850.532120041&type=1&l=bb58993798">http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151161372160042.492850.532120041&type=1&l=bb58993798 </a><br />
The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-56209839739173035182012-08-23T22:28:00.000-05:002012-08-23T22:29:23.085-05:00CVI Day One: "The Dark Side of Sushi"I didn't know.<br />
<br />
And I bet you didn't either....that Sushi had a "dark side." But it is true.<br />
<br />
How do I know? Learned it in Star Wars Japanese Vegetable Carving Class today. :)<br />
<br />
As you can imagine, the day was filled with such delicious little morsels of fun that I kept notes just to share with you. Why? Because I love you...just like Mr. Rogers.<br />
<br />
And in no particular order:<br />
* I felt snobby, being the owner of a four day pass compared to those losers with just a single day.<br />
*We saw that person of short stature that played the main Ewok, Wicket. He was also in Willow. He was riding a segway while we were walking our almost 12,000 steps today. Learned his name is Warwick Davis.<br />
*There is some serious fictional world cross pollination. For example, the Burger King king was wearing storm trooper costume. And doing naughty things with his hips and plastic hamburger.<br />
*We saw seven "Slave Leias." And a "Boobie Fett."<br />
*The Dark Side has it's own clubhouse.<br />
*I saw a 70 year old grandma dressed in matching Jedi robes with her tiny grandson.<br />
*There was a woman who shaved her head.<br />
*In the conference brochure, after the question if flash photography was allowed, was the burning question on whether the Death Star could be destroyed by one single ship. It was funny.<br />
*Lots and lots of little girls. Move over Disney Princesses, Amidala in the house.<br />
*There were fake guns everywhere and not a single screening machine. At least we were hoping they were fake.<br />
*Saw 8 men in kilts.<br />
*There were Sith cheerleaders. Aubrey says it is so they have an excuse to dress like "skanks."<br />
*Jack Sparrow was dressed in some storm trooper pieces with his pirate costume.<br />
*We went to the "Fettastic" class about the actors who played Boba Fett. <br />
*Boba Fett was married.<br />
*There was some crazy groupie girl at the Fett lecture. For real. And she had some panties to fling up to the stage. For reals.<br />
*Carol said the groupie was certainly "determined" to get the attention of the Boba buddies. True that.<br />
*There was a bald man wearing Princess Leia bun hair.<br />
*The Japanese vegetable carver was a humble kind man, who also does samurai Jedi meditation.<br />
*We saw Jesus in a Dark Side bowling shirt. He had a girlfriend and a tattoo. <br />
*Cool t-shirt that says "I am the rebel spy"<br />
*Carol almost won a free t-shirt that was thrown into the crowd, but some grabby woman behind ripped it out of her hands, causing us to find a chiropractor for her dislocated back (jk--mostly).<br />
*A wookie puppet cat-called Aubrey.<br />
<br />
Here are the pictures from today.<br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151159294530042.492592.532120041&type=1&l=b9a03c695b">http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151159294530042.492592.532120041&type=1&l=b9a03c695b </a><br />
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<br />The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-14055608780925489012012-08-23T07:24:00.001-05:002012-08-23T07:26:36.116-05:00CVI Eve pics<a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151157659255042.492369.532120041&type=1&l=9165c0074d">http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151157659255042.492369.532120041&type=1&l=9165c0074d </a><br />
Got the Facebook working. Will be adding the link to see pictures on the blog so you can enjoy the photographic "proof" as my favorite Englishman Dave said. :)<br />
<br />The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-42755179355127156442012-08-22T22:16:00.001-05:002012-08-22T22:16:54.291-05:00Embedded in the Star Wars Convention--CVI EveTonight, at dinner, we heard the following comment from the neighboring table:<br />
<br />
"Be careful. Yoda is easily excitable at parties." <br />
<br />
That is when I knew that I had to borrow Aubrey's notebook and officially "embed" myself (along with Carol Tallant, the world's greatest sport this week) to share with you a day-by-day report of what it is like to attend the Star Wars Convention this week in Orlando.<br />
<br />
It is actually known as C VI (<strike>Convention</strike> Celebration 6). Just to be sure everyone in the greater Orlando area knows why the residents in room 3203 (us) are here, The Girl taped notebook paper into those giant shapes on our windows.<br />
<br />
I would like to show you some pictures, but as it is in war, sometimes those "luxuries" will have to be put aside (translation: we have had Internet problems in this hotel since we arrived).<br />
<br />
So tonight there was a pre-celebration party at the local Uno restaurant. The entire building was filled with members of the 501st (official club of costumers for Star Wars) members, including the world president who came to our table to say hello. He was probably disappointed at our reception (Him: Hi, I am Kris and I am the 501st LCO. Me while shaking his hand: Hi. Sorry, I have no idea what that means or who you are.) I knew that he must have been SOMEBODY because the table before us the woman about hyperventilated and kept saying "you are so famous." And she meant it. <br />
<h2>
<u><i>I kept some notes that I wanted to share with you:</i></u></h2>
We saw 5 men in kilts<br />
<br />
People were already wearing their conference badges even though it hasn't started yet<br />
<br />
Tshirts "Darth Vadar lives" and "I always wear a helmet"<br />
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Aubrey said she would date Han Solo, Captain Moroni, Ammon and her current man Jon. In that order.<br />
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Members of the costumers from Australia were wearing matching SW bowling shirts<br />
<br />
Our server's name was Greg. He was cute but kept calling us "girls." Of course I corrected him.<br />
<br />
There was a guy in a giant rabbit costume wandering around. I don't think he was with the troopers, but one can never be sure.<br />
<br />
A hurricane is slated to hit Orlando by Monday afternoon.<br />
<br />
Last but not least, we saw the man who played R2D2 having drinks at the hotel bar. No doubt feeling jealous that the giant rabbit is so much bigger than him.<br />
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See you tomorrow. :) ValsyThe Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8129223893192037032.post-86048486593804131582012-08-08T09:55:00.003-05:002012-08-08T09:55:59.472-05:00Bob the Builder Award: Clean Hands Bakery<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
<img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="166" data-width="304" height="349" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRjUilVwi0i2iBBu_rU3NkdzC4b39QgLz-3fklsy18IdfMJ81SQ" style="height: 166px; width: 304px;" width="640" /></div>
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They (whoever "they" is) say that more kids in this 20-something generation are starting non-profit charities more than any generation of people before them.<br />
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They haven't said what it is called when a 10 year old does it.<br />
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Yep, Alex Wood was 10 years old when he started his non-profit "Clean Hands Bakery."<br />
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"You have to have clean hands to bake," says Alex of the name.<br />
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Recently highlighted in Heifer International's international magazine, imagine my surprise when it is a local boy from right down the street in a local Kansas City suburb.<br />
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He bakes and then sells his products. All the money he gets he donates to Heifer International to help end world hunger.<br />
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And he began doing it when he was ripe old age of .....9 years old.<br />
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Alex set a goal of raising $5,000 dollars for Heifer. His parents purchase all the ingredients and Alex and his little brother Josh do all the baking.<br />
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They recently met their goal. :) Alex is now 13.<br />
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Sure, he has won awards and been recognized for his work. But when you read about him, it is about his mission. <br />
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As service should be. :)<br />
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<a href="http://www.examiner.net/features/x1526463503/Area-student-takes-to-baking-to-raise-money-for-charity">http://www.examiner.net/features/x1526463503/Area-student-takes-to-baking-to-raise-money-for-charity</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl6s6IvvmLE">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl6s6IvvmLE</a>The Valsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10658171156868319102noreply@blogger.com