tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42725427283258792782024-03-20T22:23:35.719-04:00In Moments Like These...living every moment for Christ, no regrets.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.comBlogger229125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-90801297166228098312011-06-30T22:47:00.000-04:002011-06-30T22:47:47.517-04:00Farewell, my friends.The online community that I have been a part of for the last 6 years, is shutting down forever tonight. This is the post that I wrote as my farewell to my friends on The Porch. A friend mentioned that I really needed to copy it and keep it someplace. And seeing as I hadn't blogged in quite some time, and blogging was first encouraged to me by one of the gals I am so honored to call friend, I felt it fitting to leave my post here. <br />
<br />
To Mitford:<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">"Well, my friends...my glass of tea is empty. The ice in my glass has long since been melted and the sweat on the sides of the glass has been neatly dabbed up by my napkin. My dessert plate has a few crumbs remaining from some delicious concoction that someone brought. The sun is setting, and the crickets are starting to sing their song. The fireflies will be making their appearance shortly. I need to make my departure before the mosquitoes come out to play though. </span><br style="color: #351c75;" /><br style="color: #351c75;" /><span style="color: #351c75;"> This place has been a beautiful adventure. I have enjoyed getting to know each and every one of you. With me, I take little snippets of days gone by. Little tales of fun and adventure. Empty places in my heart of friends that we have lost along the way. Memories of children growing, grandbabies born, dreams, trips, meetings, drama, and vacations. Decorations, invitations, recipes, prayers. Birthday wishes. I take with me encouragement, and praise, and little discussions about everything...whether it be about what we are wearing for the day, or politics. I have enjoyed it all. </span><br style="color: #351c75;" /><br style="color: #351c75;" /><span style="color: #351c75;"> I love each of you, and hope to see you on the other side of the hedge when the porch light goes out. If I don't....</span><br style="color: #351c75;" /></b> <b style="color: #351c75;">“May your days be many and your troubles be few. May all God's blessings descend upon you. May peace be within you, may your heart be strong. May you find what you're seeking wherever you roam.”</b><b><br style="color: #351c75;" /><br style="color: #351c75;" /><br style="color: #351c75;" /><span style="color: #351c75;"> *Jenny rises slowly from her rocking chair...it creaks softly. She shakes the wrinkles and dessert crumbs from her floral skirt and puts her flip flops back on her feet. She blows kisses to everyone around her and looks around one last time to the porch that she has spent so many hours and held so many treasured moments. She steps down off the porch and walks briskly over to the hedge, the path going through it made fresh by a few friends that have gone on ahead of her. She hears a few voices on the other side and knows that she will be welcomed there. </span><br style="color: #351c75;" /><br style="color: #351c75;" /><span style="color: #351c75;"> She glances back over her shoulder, one last time...tears in her eyes and waves to her friends, young and old, who have all been brought together for a moment in time by a few books, but mostly by God. She dashes through the hedge....and voices are heard through the other side..."HEEEEY!" "HIIIII" "Applesofgold is here, everyone!!!!"</span><br />
<br />
Her rocking chair remains empty on the porch. Her tea glass and dessert plate remain, as reminders of a delightful time spent with people she calls family.*"</b>applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-34257042908388703452011-02-17T23:41:00.000-05:002011-02-17T23:41:37.139-05:00What do you do...What do you do, when the weather is fantastic....but your husband took your car because his vehicle is at the Car Spa getting a new transmission? <br />
<br />
You grab your easel, your brushes, and your paints and head to the empty driveway. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDXZdyK7FYxmhZFBIWCZP-vlZKBb3Ir1eNtHNooWNjVyb53HUxjpdeV1tzZJszQu9ctNc5h13wlvtjUxJ10HTK1JCdJq9l_aILxvLYuHihFw7Hu855Rgbb1j03lQmXjqA-xvsxELwPPoV/s1600/DSC_0383-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDXZdyK7FYxmhZFBIWCZP-vlZKBb3Ir1eNtHNooWNjVyb53HUxjpdeV1tzZJszQu9ctNc5h13wlvtjUxJ10HTK1JCdJq9l_aILxvLYuHihFw7Hu855Rgbb1j03lQmXjqA-xvsxELwPPoV/s400/DSC_0383-2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div> Don't forget your painter's beret, smock, and your imagination. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypkoO_O1rTDx1jOs_aqJbwmtU1sHNajbr38Ab20_1oz8DoWwd9AQytdNvNEHj7M7Xo7fqEg3VgEow1tixGy2c1MvPDc96fAd1_ccAr2YLdyi8aTW1KUYyaN6KEkVGWsYEdVGkZgzDpQXX/s1600/DSC_0390-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypkoO_O1rTDx1jOs_aqJbwmtU1sHNajbr38Ab20_1oz8DoWwd9AQytdNvNEHj7M7Xo7fqEg3VgEow1tixGy2c1MvPDc96fAd1_ccAr2YLdyi8aTW1KUYyaN6KEkVGWsYEdVGkZgzDpQXX/s400/DSC_0390-2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div> Something about painting out in the sunshine and fresh air makes the experience better. She had more than one car slow down in front of the house to observe her talent. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXPDPFioIKoCuoD-dtaroRQwtxXK7atwzHzqS4_wkNwW6foMHu3HPbCBS-cwonkAYjv0qhp7A9bgNsUrRTZW4xqLlIv2G97p8fazhZx3oeI5E1W3JXDK1bFmoVJjHnntONWy8UYmj5peo/s1600/DSC_0391-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXPDPFioIKoCuoD-dtaroRQwtxXK7atwzHzqS4_wkNwW6foMHu3HPbCBS-cwonkAYjv0qhp7A9bgNsUrRTZW4xqLlIv2G97p8fazhZx3oeI5E1W3JXDK1bFmoVJjHnntONWy8UYmj5peo/s400/DSC_0391-2.JPG" width="266" /></a></div> The wind made painting a little tricky. We figured out that putting one leg of the easel in side the legs of the stool, it wouldn't flip. A stroke of genius with a couple of pieces of velcro kept the canvas on the easel instead of flying away in the breeze. Remind me to ask an artist how they deal with wind while painting outside?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYh4Dg45jBzSZcgwF16eDiSqR00oioH1U1aGKrYIlXdPpJ8ONQvcql9gRKdtg0dt1hK_IT7ScBZ17mxFIg9hJgKitnoI9Bn8NKp4fEMfAxoSPyOqWdk2O2k6KOfYeAmc1E6FzkihZcIeO/s1600/DSC_0394-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYh4Dg45jBzSZcgwF16eDiSqR00oioH1U1aGKrYIlXdPpJ8ONQvcql9gRKdtg0dt1hK_IT7ScBZ17mxFIg9hJgKitnoI9Bn8NKp4fEMfAxoSPyOqWdk2O2k6KOfYeAmc1E6FzkihZcIeO/s400/DSC_0394-2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>I love her work. She's keeping this one. She has given away so many of her paintings, I'm so glad she decided to keep this one for herself.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-30001232255438200882011-02-16T19:24:00.002-05:002011-02-16T22:47:02.788-05:00Carrots.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0O2QhdzR-KmhxCbunVPHBVBi7gtkUcgRs2RGROGIWBIFrJ8V8nwwSSs5aV6rnfkmj0waRYz1lzm7b0rNCl0f_PdeToH22G_ICpLfbz_01V7ghthzT1kLLP5aB8tmOCPm-rdty2_bvx_U/s1600/DSC_0366-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0O2QhdzR-KmhxCbunVPHBVBi7gtkUcgRs2RGROGIWBIFrJ8V8nwwSSs5aV6rnfkmj0waRYz1lzm7b0rNCl0f_PdeToH22G_ICpLfbz_01V7ghthzT1kLLP5aB8tmOCPm-rdty2_bvx_U/s400/DSC_0366-2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't think I have ever tasted anything better than carrots fresh from the garden. Except for maybe snowpeas. Or Cabbage. I dearly adore gardening year round here in The Swamp. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-804703238638379492011-02-14T13:56:00.000-05:002011-02-14T13:56:34.736-05:00A Birthday Do-over.Since the Big Apple was sick on her birthday, I scoped out a place to take her this weekend that would TOTALLY make up for the fact that her birthday was a bust. <br />
<br />
I scored. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbTj2bbBnfRXrWIaiGFhVV0mDQQ-S37dfoNbZxGxj5Ujah2VbIAC5kJ5I9Lj4BWMXyBXhjOGlIznbJZBdMX03DfoofZVN2EbKWvqvPQpNo6xXd5_zgm2MGLL-VXrrEb1HInzj3HB9Z8Hn/s1600/DSC_0363-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbTj2bbBnfRXrWIaiGFhVV0mDQQ-S37dfoNbZxGxj5Ujah2VbIAC5kJ5I9Lj4BWMXyBXhjOGlIznbJZBdMX03DfoofZVN2EbKWvqvPQpNo6xXd5_zgm2MGLL-VXrrEb1HInzj3HB9Z8Hn/s320/DSC_0363-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The family piled in the van and headed to Folsom, LA to the <a href="http://www.globalwildlife.com/">Global Wildlife Center</a>. I had heard of this place on several different occasions but wanted to wait until The Little Apple was a little older to go. Nothing like being stuck on a 2 hour long safari ride with a crabby baby. But this turned out to be the perfect age for her to go, as she was thrilled by every animal she saw. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tle9PeQdMklxmRriYwIG1nJTh6TwdwouaW4nr14p2q7pEsIr9RaZCh1SIfu1edKzvoqKkcgxUALiJMTLvv26yCPHM_-oN_NTT-HMYWwn8LMejmTOkBsdyVFHuowKQyKpln_oXDgWhYFb/s1600/DSC_0293-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tle9PeQdMklxmRriYwIG1nJTh6TwdwouaW4nr14p2q7pEsIr9RaZCh1SIfu1edKzvoqKkcgxUALiJMTLvv26yCPHM_-oN_NTT-HMYWwn8LMejmTOkBsdyVFHuowKQyKpln_oXDgWhYFb/s320/DSC_0293-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> When you go, you purchase your tickets, and of course animal food. Eben chose the family bucket...which turned out to be an enormous amount of food...but we quickly found out why we needed that much food. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVD0h2E3arCL8-bQs01885xBR6AeAoKIzB6bQanwjSQJmGbUaLOc9UwkdbQALdXic837SENdIfD6gEYaYwcwp91rDL2J-bPb5Zs5_jmbs5RVV4fk_-UXQg64uIq8rZz1s-oAfUz6JILwK/s1600/DSC_0335-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVD0h2E3arCL8-bQs01885xBR6AeAoKIzB6bQanwjSQJmGbUaLOc9UwkdbQALdXic837SENdIfD6gEYaYwcwp91rDL2J-bPb5Zs5_jmbs5RVV4fk_-UXQg64uIq8rZz1s-oAfUz6JILwK/s320/DSC_0335-2.JPG" width="214" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtTYAvOeIAt7tmlh5WkCtNErXXhR94aom9jQWP70wo4djfLGWIoUd20fcTmNPNl91lD4BMmDH4J50EoPTpqLTbGxdpmfVM2fOIbRipXur1VGmfh_6TpfLqOTORch_SEdao30KFhBBuER9/s1600/DSC_0318-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtTYAvOeIAt7tmlh5WkCtNErXXhR94aom9jQWP70wo4djfLGWIoUd20fcTmNPNl91lD4BMmDH4J50EoPTpqLTbGxdpmfVM2fOIbRipXur1VGmfh_6TpfLqOTORch_SEdao30KFhBBuER9/s400/DSC_0318-2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was an enormous amount of animals.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPzBVSq6FOVmF3Xj6cDrPlQ9WqDfEjTo96-jOeATnlrV4_DNaMYU-8lklZO_lvKXXrWl-F6gE3jbYiZm9WIohE1I3RMeKMu3oPDR_jPiYjeT75cJbFUOoZYWGcTO2mgieJA8o_GDs8YM76/s1600/DSC_0300-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPzBVSq6FOVmF3Xj6cDrPlQ9WqDfEjTo96-jOeATnlrV4_DNaMYU-8lklZO_lvKXXrWl-F6gE3jbYiZm9WIohE1I3RMeKMu3oPDR_jPiYjeT75cJbFUOoZYWGcTO2mgieJA8o_GDs8YM76/s320/DSC_0300-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most of them would eat right out of the cup. Some ate neatly out of your hands. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFIOq05qcds9NTfEtafunTzrmKp3_1rvdbr4UNw8_d_ClE36DerdZ7akJm4bKxkODuoMY1Gs8PcG0mTvSLttS38u_R2kd54lfW5VLljcEuodFlxh0uynX1S-kzxUXIzTgj6rTuDSsB3r0/s1600/DSC_0322-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFIOq05qcds9NTfEtafunTzrmKp3_1rvdbr4UNw8_d_ClE36DerdZ7akJm4bKxkODuoMY1Gs8PcG0mTvSLttS38u_R2kd54lfW5VLljcEuodFlxh0uynX1S-kzxUXIzTgj6rTuDSsB3r0/s320/DSC_0322-2.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcaGC2DSQxH3f1aiaeJrmG59HZYDG_GL6UBP5mGucIzSVjIIBJOv7Sts14eBF2uMcjFkHBZX5hW5ydUh4jh6GlJ3ZIfs1a6wlY2FC7t7JqLiT2LLRFBNZrLKkkSai7XX-dzdifZzmmA_T/s1600/DSC_0312-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcaGC2DSQxH3f1aiaeJrmG59HZYDG_GL6UBP5mGucIzSVjIIBJOv7Sts14eBF2uMcjFkHBZX5hW5ydUh4jh6GlJ3ZIfs1a6wlY2FC7t7JqLiT2LLRFBNZrLKkkSai7XX-dzdifZzmmA_T/s400/DSC_0312-2.JPG" width="400" /></a><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> And some, of the animals, they open their mouths wide, and you just pour the food right in. That was The Little Apple's preferred method for feeding animals. She was so good at it. She learned to shake the cup until an animal walked over to her and opened wide. Then she'd pour it in. At other times, the Little Apple liked to toss the food and yell "Mardi Gras!!!!!!!" I wonder where she learned that?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN6v7IdKFvihAzkkVlJv5g04mvALxvgAtFvv80nHTLi64ZgubPlu5CwFVAjnHA62MwuOhzG02AztXkms3pkhziNuXfnJlbycZQMjuLlXXOUpNWjLSjDNvZdx2VD8PdzmQiV9ZU8nB4QuUL/s1600/DSC_0354-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN6v7IdKFvihAzkkVlJv5g04mvALxvgAtFvv80nHTLi64ZgubPlu5CwFVAjnHA62MwuOhzG02AztXkms3pkhziNuXfnJlbycZQMjuLlXXOUpNWjLSjDNvZdx2VD8PdzmQiV9ZU8nB4QuUL/s320/DSC_0354-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The Big Apple, being the typical Daddy's Girl that she is, hung out with her Daddy most of the ride, which explains my lack of pictures of her, as I was managing the Other Apples (mainly making sure The Little Apple didn't hop out of the wagon and try to ride a zebra!)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwtCv-XLL_aupMjoZFnF6BA_IbYQDjmuh_l47aBrm9M1tSwnCHV0AwCu-crb_xoEdTtr8-RyACO56gAfvn2jBDNtBa5LI7DDULtyNRyDSYGslJXvkj3PqXMBnyaZcXHYyUXG17SxX2QC_/s1600/DSC_0358-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwtCv-XLL_aupMjoZFnF6BA_IbYQDjmuh_l47aBrm9M1tSwnCHV0AwCu-crb_xoEdTtr8-RyACO56gAfvn2jBDNtBa5LI7DDULtyNRyDSYGslJXvkj3PqXMBnyaZcXHYyUXG17SxX2QC_/s320/DSC_0358-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> But the Big Apple kept the wagon train driver busy with her questions about the various animals. My favorite question of the day "How big is giraffe poop?"<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, we weren't able to get up close to the giraffes....which created some tears on the part of the Big Apple. The giraffes were more interested in the private jeeps that are available for tours instead of the big wagon train. <br />
<br />
I have to admit, I had a lot more fun on this trip than I anticipated, and was glad that we all went together on a weekend rather than a weekday without Eben along. The Big Apple declared the day "Almost as good as Disney World." I think that's a pretty big statement. <br />
<br />
It was a very nice Birthday Do-Over. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-83787439258705613172011-02-03T21:00:00.000-05:002011-02-03T21:00:33.674-05:00Naughty number 9.The Naughty Number 9. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVAKc3NxzP_RVvph2Ezm1v2I2QD0x9FNa6FUK72q9D1PMgDgrMJvReh76ZlFkUDte3VTjkkyrpHXLKbLuneyejqcaqIpFbSIajfwozRhvjJTwTR4Z-d5xGOTfbPR-zZJGJSZ6UH0MnY47/s1600/DSC_0261-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVAKc3NxzP_RVvph2Ezm1v2I2QD0x9FNa6FUK72q9D1PMgDgrMJvReh76ZlFkUDte3VTjkkyrpHXLKbLuneyejqcaqIpFbSIajfwozRhvjJTwTR4Z-d5xGOTfbPR-zZJGJSZ6UH0MnY47/s320/DSC_0261-2.JPG" width="316" /></a></div>The title of this post is a reference to the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_iLcQr2vvno">School House Rock</a> video for multiplying 9's. It's not referring to my Big Apple at all. <br />
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I called the Big Apple from the grocery store the other day, to ask her what kind of cake she wanted me to get. "Mama, can we just have a homemade cake?" Music to this mama's ears. "Well, Big Apple, is there something you want me to get to put on TOP of the cake?" "No, Mama...I just want to use some of the toys I already have." More music to this mama's ears. <br />
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"Mama? Can I make the cake by myself?" This is normally something I LOVE to do for my children on their birthdays...because one of the things I do really well...it's decorate a cake. But she really wanted to do it, and I couldn't turn her down. So the night before her birthday, I turned her loose in the kitchen. She did great! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkiAbhw-19DHhYvfd270GBgffYqld0_h91j33mLQVIidqWFxaC4T5lDmMJkO6KEoEeMcg1HKFB8WVNdhKqbCMiWFuCvGgYSaPgcswKqjBwZ0qp2Y9Sw8_2LGSDAR1pG3lHTxL1UbKcBty/s1600/DSC_0245-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkiAbhw-19DHhYvfd270GBgffYqld0_h91j33mLQVIidqWFxaC4T5lDmMJkO6KEoEeMcg1HKFB8WVNdhKqbCMiWFuCvGgYSaPgcswKqjBwZ0qp2Y9Sw8_2LGSDAR1pG3lHTxL1UbKcBty/s320/DSC_0245-2.JPG" width="214" /></a></div> The morning of her birthday, The Big Apple woke up feeling yucky in the tummy. And all stuffy in the nose. But Daddy didn't have to go into work until later this morning, so she wanted to open her presents. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV1hzv5rHWX1tMhoZkbH6Y7NGodPKneGCMKi4ZHQfUr0178CFcRpizsJdRjJNBttcASI1eQa3rWPUwDGtNOpzFJm4WrXdgg8fKoW53lQaXU33ePg8cggOY6x3deOFnYyVywph5-1PVTzwj/s1600/DSC_0252-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV1hzv5rHWX1tMhoZkbH6Y7NGodPKneGCMKi4ZHQfUr0178CFcRpizsJdRjJNBttcASI1eQa3rWPUwDGtNOpzFJm4WrXdgg8fKoW53lQaXU33ePg8cggOY6x3deOFnYyVywph5-1PVTzwj/s320/DSC_0252-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> She got her very own sewing basket and her own sewing machine. I figured a girl who is considered half grown has earned her place at the table, right next to me~using her own machine. (actually, the selfish part of me says that she needed her own machine so that she would stop using mine!)<br />
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I only wish she had felt better today. We didn't get to sew together like I had originally planned. She spent the day on the couch, sipping ginger ale and broth.<br />
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We are demanding a birthday do-over.<br />
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But I do have to say, that number 9 is a naughty one. The way it kind of sneaks in and takes away your little girl in the middle of the night....replacing her with half grown young lady....A young girl who is brilliant, and vibrant, and eager to make her way in the world. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8OAS-wPVkaqQfmTzyXuEbofxH2gaEgcSfF0-YM4OePblg1CdF1IDFCgPqrAFAm5uG98yzebMaAVE_jjElqKUZcmab3CFFRinQ60_sSmJcqtu5A8tAJDtZ4TU6U-louPZRO93jj68pRui/s1600/DSC_0266-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8OAS-wPVkaqQfmTzyXuEbofxH2gaEgcSfF0-YM4OePblg1CdF1IDFCgPqrAFAm5uG98yzebMaAVE_jjElqKUZcmab3CFFRinQ60_sSmJcqtu5A8tAJDtZ4TU6U-louPZRO93jj68pRui/s320/DSC_0266-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Yup. That 9 is a naughty one. applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-84567278145216718162011-02-01T15:27:00.002-05:002011-02-01T15:31:23.738-05:00A little heart felt words on military transfers......A fellow Coastie Wife posted this a few days ago, and I felt the need to share it, (with her permission of course!) And to share it early, because every word of it rings true in how I feel around transfer season. I'm giving you advance notice here, and cutting you all a break. Please read, and listen with your heart, because this is what most military wives go through every single time we move. <br />
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<div style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i>"It is hard being the wife of a military man. You don't get the luxury of a stable life style, you don't get to go for coffee with your best friend (who is usually NOT next door or even the same state!), you don't get to plan vacations without checking the boat/flight/duty schedule. You get orders every 2/3/4 years and you pack up everything you own and move to a new place, where you generally don't know anyone. <br />
Lately I have been called things like "selfish", "mean", "throwing it in our face". Well here is OUR side of it....we don't have time to wallow in the missing you category. We are to busy making everything good for our family and planning the move. We have to be the cheerleader, we have to stay positive and we can not show one ounce of sadness, because when we do it effects the whole family. Yes we are going to miss the friends we made here, that should be a given. Yes we are sad to leave on some levels. But again we can't show that to the children who are already upset they are moving, to the spouse who knows he is going to a more demanding job and will likely spend the first 6 months not home much while they get qualified for the new job. So we smile and we cheer. We make everything sound like roses and rainbows, how much fun we are going to have, how much we are going to enjoy this new adventure.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><br />
So as a friend, if you really are one, please do not act like we are abandoning you. You are losing one friend, we are losing all of you. You get to stay here and go on, we get to pack everything up and move on. So please understand the stress we are under, support us (even when we get pissy and snappy) and above all else just be there when we need a shoulder to lean on. Because you as the friend whom we have supported the last few years should understand that it is our turn. Because honestly we don't have time for your negativity and we can not emotionally be there to help you through this.<br />
I love this lifestyle...been doing it since the day I was married. I love the adventure, I love the newness. But don't let that fool you into thinking we love this part of it. It is what it is....now back to my cheering, because that is MY job in all this. "</i></b></span> </div><br />
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It also never fails, every single time we get new orders we hear things like "Oh, you are going to hate ___ about that place." or "I've heard that that place is awful because of ______." "Why would you pick to go there?" Trust me, my husband and I have very little to do with where the Coast Guard chooses to send us. If I had my way, I'd stay in one place forever! But what bothers me the most of all, are people that make judgment calls about a certain state or region of the country, having never ever lived or breathed the air in that location. Please, don't do this. <br />
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I have found that with every single place we have relocated to, I fall in love with it. If you hear from me from another part of the country, don't expect me to tell you about how horrible it is where I am because you think I'm supposed to be having the time of my life where you are. This is the life that I have chosen, and I love it. I'm up for the adventure.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-9802194961315421742011-02-01T11:30:00.000-05:002011-02-01T11:30:25.141-05:00Drumroll please! ............We have received our new orders! <br />
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For those of you that didn't get a text message, a phone call, or see it on Facebook yesterday....The Apple Dumpling Gang will be returning to North Carolina. It appears that we can never fully shake the NC sand off from between our toes, as we will be reporting to <b>Elizabeth City, NC</b> early this summer.<br />
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Our family is thrilled with the new orders, but a little bummed at the same time. My husband was so desperate for Alaska this time, he listed ALL of the Alaska billets on his dream sheet at the top. I held my breath and prayed for God to change my heart and prepare me for the big adventure if that was where He intended to send us. I had my own ideas...of returning to Duluth and slipping back into our old groove...(you guys know how much I like routine and all things familiar!) I thought about living on the West Coast for the first time, and put Seattle on the list next. Followed by my ideas about how easy it would be on the girls to live close to our relatives in Florida (while selfishly hoping to be able to drop the kids off with them and run away for the weekend with the husband).<br />
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But none of that was meant to be. We got pick # 14. Which isn't bad. We are happy with it. Close to all the historical things in Virgina to visit, old friends and Sorority Sisters. Close to our old friends in Sneads Ferry/Holly Ridge/Wilmington. <br />
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This is going to work out at this new unit. Somehow they always do. This is where God is leading us, and that's where we will go.<br />
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Let the journey continue! applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-65353149368528661222011-01-28T12:44:00.000-05:002011-01-28T12:44:42.264-05:00When life gives you mud....When life gives you mud.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZeCQk_lqT9AdDht-rZdERLfoVHpVzZBwjNRdWSLq1qEN8Angv8jlN1qKzojYWk8jaZzT_rSSx8Z8yxxZB38SfV3ZAw22-8LWGicaRI0Zn-xkZADX3SxCRKVfXpneAMJvwle_RKScaCHb/s1600/DSC_0225-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZeCQk_lqT9AdDht-rZdERLfoVHpVzZBwjNRdWSLq1qEN8Angv8jlN1qKzojYWk8jaZzT_rSSx8Z8yxxZB38SfV3ZAw22-8LWGicaRI0Zn-xkZADX3SxCRKVfXpneAMJvwle_RKScaCHb/s320/DSC_0225-2.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">...........make mudpies. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtFWMXFkvzxEWrpQ_z6S5vuFc_Zr1fmdr9vkIgBkcl6pbFusl-7DKa93vNXUhdvw0Xpy4eW_z2PvBYkCWE21gHCVOYCR87BeTyOxE2hKopliKHXQyGcZ6pl0BmPFUuWZ7YMh8MvvSJmnM/s1600/167829_10150390519950591_836435590_17006032_6329034_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtFWMXFkvzxEWrpQ_z6S5vuFc_Zr1fmdr9vkIgBkcl6pbFusl-7DKa93vNXUhdvw0Xpy4eW_z2PvBYkCWE21gHCVOYCR87BeTyOxE2hKopliKHXQyGcZ6pl0BmPFUuWZ7YMh8MvvSJmnM/s320/167829_10150390519950591_836435590_17006032_6329034_n.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Words to live by, my friends. </div>applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-40313320290091292182011-01-26T23:43:00.002-05:002011-01-27T08:28:55.594-05:00Just weary....Friends....I need this space to just vent for a moment like this. <br />
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Alot of people say that I'm so well put together and have my life all organized...well, right now, I'm not. I'm weary. We've had a great deal of sadness thrown at us in the last couple of weeks...and although most of it does not closely effect our immediate family, I am feeling weighed down by the sheer sadness of it all.<br />
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This last week has been filled with a detached retina (my dad), a dear college friend losing her spouse quite suddenly, my best friend's dad fighting stomach cancer, <a href="http://prayersforaubree.blogspot.com/">THIS,</a> <a href="http://www.cajunhomeschool.blogspot.com/">a friend</a> who's daughter has a nasty stomach virus, and on top of everything else.....we are STILL waiting for order as to our next transfer. <br />
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And as I type this, I realize that not a single item on this list of stuff do I have control over, and I guess that is where the sadness lays. I can't reattach retinas, I can't bring back my friends husband, I can't heal cancer, I cannot comfort a sick and lonely teenager in a hospital in Florida, I can not get rid of a stomach virus, and I can't predict the future, so I can't see where we will be stationed next.<br />
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Yeah...I know...Let go, and let God. Try it in my shoes for a day, and I bet you can't.<br />
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So, I'm apologizing if I haven't spoken to some of you for a few days, not being as chatty on IM, or Facebook, or the phone. I'm just weary. The truth is, I feel helpless in these situations so I'm throwing myself into projects that can make <i>someone</i> feel better. I'm quilting for a friend in a nursing home, making baby blankets to share, making dinners for new mothers, and pillowcases for kids in the hospital. <br />
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I'll come up for air in a few days I am sure. But for now, I'm just weary, and coping the best I can.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-75806277446175059592011-01-17T22:14:00.006-05:002011-01-17T23:45:17.592-05:00The post in which I compare my marriage to a quilt.......Yesterday, my husband and I celebrated a landmark.....12 years of marriage. Pretty amazing to say the least. 12 years might not seem like much to some, but to us it means everything. Many didn't think we would make it. The odds were pretty much stacked against us from the beginning.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82Kyd6Gptc7guQfSwf35tXgQxdiwnG31WVp8OBkBQnVCPvfStXSrMBH0fFMltWsQlJKMygAeHzLbmWvkTh93HVCcNNYvXGdV5sTgcZ9stBw8X2Il2l_ojSztDKm9nJSvLIygKOaLM3eM5/s1600/DSC_0174-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82Kyd6Gptc7guQfSwf35tXgQxdiwnG31WVp8OBkBQnVCPvfStXSrMBH0fFMltWsQlJKMygAeHzLbmWvkTh93HVCcNNYvXGdV5sTgcZ9stBw8X2Il2l_ojSztDKm9nJSvLIygKOaLM3eM5/s400/DSC_0174-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563363327260326866" border="0" /></a><br />Eben had been asking if I would ever make a quilt that we would actually get to keep. So I purposed in my heart to make that happen. I put it off over Christmas, since there was a ton of other homemade goodies going on, but figured I could make him something for our Anniversary.<br /><br />Here it is...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTlTBBx_SDts4n99IqgqXZ5RbVmLYnzb-d7qZjpbXpJGCkhyphenhyphenxvGKlG7C9OD-RuYlb3WZTQL9WEGOtjwXg45ua-U7opIHXicG9pmB_3THH5-iUi0EsaUqodq3hVliJucJnBgI6HNqd87tN/s1600/DSC_0163-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTlTBBx_SDts4n99IqgqXZ5RbVmLYnzb-d7qZjpbXpJGCkhyphenhyphenxvGKlG7C9OD-RuYlb3WZTQL9WEGOtjwXg45ua-U7opIHXicG9pmB_3THH5-iUi0EsaUqodq3hVliJucJnBgI6HNqd87tN/s400/DSC_0163-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563362618280747170" border="0" /></a>But this isn't just any quilt....this quilt now has a story. And it's a story that I think needs to be blogged about and shared. Or at least documented for my kids, so they can read for themselves when they get older about the story of the Anniversary Quilt.<br /><br />When I first began this project, I had huge expectations for it. I wanted the most gorgeous, beautiful quilt, the prettiest fabrics available, a predictable pattern to it, everything one could ever hope for in a quilt. Kind of like how we began our marriage 12 years ago. I had these grandiose ideals of a perfect marriage, a perfect little house, a perfect set of children, security, predictability, and the happily ever after that you see in the movies. About 2 weeks after the "I Do's" were said, the reality check slapped us both in the face.<br /><br />This quilt looks perfect hanging up on the back fence....from a distance. So do alot of marriages. But I have a secret to tell you...if you look a bit closer you will find the mistakes. At on point in time, I sat on the floor of the living room, quilt in arms, telling myself how horrible it was. I couldn't get the fabric to lay flat, it puckered in all the wrong places, the pieces were just all in a jumble instead of a predictable pattern because of the Little Apple who insisted on rearranging the blocks every single time I had them lay them out on the floor. It was an ugly quilt, meant for the garbage can.<br /><br />As I cried over that stinking quilt, I heard that comforting whisper...you know the one. The one that comes from within your heart, and you know it can only be that still small voice of God. And it said "It's not ugly. It can still be used. Try seeing it through My eyes instead." And I began to see all kinds of comparisons and lessons learned.<br /><br />My first mistake....TIME. I had neglected to take time to create a masterpiece. I expected myself to put together a gorgeous quilt in just a couple of weeks. Just the same....a good marriage isn't something thing that you can just throw together and hope for the best that it makes it. It takes practice. Years. Of Practice. And work. Hard work. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs_OXMQQV0DnGkQPGvCNDL8ipjOIGTFltUCsfm6_4Vc1b4gU3Gnpz5FrdueTvhGlyq_16dIWzyCIiRn3qvzfk44lLdIM7sv43BJlYbt6yLeCW_KGvaNExawzMYzsdSrGYnue_BiU4JpDlp/s1600/DSC_0166-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs_OXMQQV0DnGkQPGvCNDL8ipjOIGTFltUCsfm6_4Vc1b4gU3Gnpz5FrdueTvhGlyq_16dIWzyCIiRn3qvzfk44lLdIM7sv43BJlYbt6yLeCW_KGvaNExawzMYzsdSrGYnue_BiU4JpDlp/s400/DSC_0166-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563362623314836338" border="0" /></a>But it goes on from there. Pictured above is the section of quilt that I am least happy with. You see, when I first started quilting it, I chose to free motion quilt it, because it requires a great deal of sewing and the quilt would last. Not to mention that I think it's just really pretty. As I started quilting it, the fabric started to pucker here, and wrinkle there. Not very much, so I disregarded it, thinking it wouldn't be noticeable. But by the time I got to the middle section, the fabric was so distorted that there was no other option but to just leave it alone. Had I addressed the minor problems with the quilt early on, the distortion in the middle wouldn't have been such a problem. Just the same, Eben and I have had many little bumps along the way in our marriage. It's far from perfect, but we have figured out after 12 years together, that if you address those little things as they come up, a huge problem in the middle won't be glaringly obvious to everyone.<br /><br />Another huge mistake that I made...I didn't really have the right tools for the job. This quilt isn't a baby sized quilt. I made this one bigger so that my sweetie and I could snuggle and watch movies together.<br /><br />But unfortunately, a quilt of this size doesn't exactly fit under a standard sewing machine. It was a hard job. And I definitely didn't have enough thread. I had to stop my project in the middle, drive into town, buy more thread and continue where I had left off. In the same way, with my own life...if I don't have the right tools I need to get through the day, of course I'm going to get off track and it's going to make life more difficult than necessary. I was reminded again that I had been slacking off in my quiet times with God, and in doing so, was giving myself a one-way ticket to frustration.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tSms0emDwfpbQMQT99VB9cq1LJcYYEa8f37qJwlZMZPP_vwuAyOBXwRtho0HJjIAmPcdeiWW1ItIlnH-p2uLzJU6DcYTUnDYIOxoKk4KfBOBSRLcknofdwjZMJubYeaHo4oRTzRTkjLE/s1600/DSC_0168-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tSms0emDwfpbQMQT99VB9cq1LJcYYEa8f37qJwlZMZPP_vwuAyOBXwRtho0HJjIAmPcdeiWW1ItIlnH-p2uLzJU6DcYTUnDYIOxoKk4KfBOBSRLcknofdwjZMJubYeaHo4oRTzRTkjLE/s400/DSC_0168-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563362626501834722" border="0" /></a>Frustration.....like what I got when I was finishing the edges of the quilt and I couldn't get the fabric to iron flat to fold over. I had no choice but to bunch it up and sew it and move on. For the sole purpose of just persevering to the end. <br /><br />And that is what Eben and I will do. We will persevere to the end. For the next 50+ years if God chooses to bless us with that many years together. We don't claim to have the perfect marriage. It's full of mistakes. Heck, it doesn't even look good up close. But can God use it?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGC0TBav0aR-0OA2hNLfBAd091UwGwRcAinjt27bbyH5P544DAAh3WAsrxJy09hdjNprl4mtRvRQtJ2gVUKXwi6jk7n6cZAweewE-sZEJSQZ6I4gmlobdIGObODtu7261TRt1qByYT16js/s1600/DSC_0184-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGC0TBav0aR-0OA2hNLfBAd091UwGwRcAinjt27bbyH5P544DAAh3WAsrxJy09hdjNprl4mtRvRQtJ2gVUKXwi6jk7n6cZAweewE-sZEJSQZ6I4gmlobdIGObODtu7261TRt1qByYT16js/s400/DSC_0184-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563381486382683138" border="0" /></a><br />I'm sure He can.<br /><br />Happy Anniversary, Eben. I love you. Matthew 19:26applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-8446694648560182822011-01-12T18:00:00.006-05:002011-01-12T20:17:37.990-05:00A month....Is it true? Can it be possible? I haven't blogged in over a month!?!?!!? Could it possible that it was the Christmas season, and things got seriously crazy?<br /><br />Here is a recap of what you missed.... (in pictures, of course...because I'm sure all of you would rather see it, than simply read about it!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcKKhGfnEouUDEJt01Aiqq9vBUgL_BRuA0hETn-stp6B6SUp5zL3dH8Dh0x4ssynxsOvSepXnYNPHkBY2FCmfuQNISlIKoe1P9VdjIwy-m4YDxsJyvxvsYykOjoAH2CFsdOS8e87Lvtq8/s1600/DSC_0905-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 154px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcKKhGfnEouUDEJt01Aiqq9vBUgL_BRuA0hETn-stp6B6SUp5zL3dH8Dh0x4ssynxsOvSepXnYNPHkBY2FCmfuQNISlIKoe1P9VdjIwy-m4YDxsJyvxvsYykOjoAH2CFsdOS8e87Lvtq8/s400/DSC_0905-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561439690676371954" border="0" /></a>The Apples were in a musical...called The Grinch. It was wonderful. I am glad they got a chance to get their feet wet in the theater, since it is something that I have always enjoyed and it's dear to my heart. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1XTyj416Po9NukR8msIB0PBYrh7XcJLaAKUrWqK8he3iJbpkzbr1nS2bK1jM7jwJwFRlUFUNui8xnXwNzlekJH0Xu0OxI_SuixXDJjwDPJe58eKgGK047U2dY3e31mGzEJSpBwzu_q_j/s1600/1118770059_gNtcW-L.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1XTyj416Po9NukR8msIB0PBYrh7XcJLaAKUrWqK8he3iJbpkzbr1nS2bK1jM7jwJwFRlUFUNui8xnXwNzlekJH0Xu0OxI_SuixXDJjwDPJe58eKgGK047U2dY3e31mGzEJSpBwzu_q_j/s400/1118770059_gNtcW-L.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561439695352817138" border="0" /></a>This guy came to their performance. I mean, how cool is that?!?!? Jindal in for President in 2012? I might consider voting for him!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FaiGPwRiw8eau6wev5pvATIqJcZZkgho7A2-EHarPsgT_W63IvmCwIHKDUgBExtnCEgB2e_i25Gi-t82lfVGpYb4xj9hHJTblbL8g-_Lr8hgLvQAH_cdUrBa3kcev9awcQTuQ77QSvU2/s1600/DSC_0970-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FaiGPwRiw8eau6wev5pvATIqJcZZkgho7A2-EHarPsgT_W63IvmCwIHKDUgBExtnCEgB2e_i25Gi-t82lfVGpYb4xj9hHJTblbL8g-_Lr8hgLvQAH_cdUrBa3kcev9awcQTuQ77QSvU2/s400/DSC_0970-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561443324919083922" border="0" /></a>The Saturday following The Grinch, The Little Apple got a strange bump on her neck. Sunday, she had another huge on her forehead, and one on her stomach. Oh-oh, I thought. A few hours later, she had a couple hundred bumps. Chicken pox. She had had no other symptoms, no fever, no crabbiness, nothing to indicate that she was coming down with something. Doing the math at the Dr. 's office, The Little Apple was at her most contagious time the day of the stage production of The Grinch, and had hung out with me most of the day at the Auditorium.<br /><br />....along with every elementary age kid in our entire city. Nicely played. I'm such a horrible mother...having single-handedly exposed every kid in our city to the Chicken Pox in one day.<br /><br />We survived. With a couple of scars. More emotional scars on my part....as we were kindof treated like my family had the plague and not the chicken pox. Go figure. Small price to pay, though, for choosing not to vaccinate my kids. But we have successfully completed chicken pox with all 3 of the kids.<br /><br />The next couple of weeks were filled with Christmas joy. Homemade gifts of jam, candied pecans, handsewn Christmas stockings, homemade wrapping paper, and kid made ornaments and presents. I am becoming more and more of a fan of "Homespun Christmas"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35tL-FY0kdzrVcSt0idkqYqZTGNZ1VI1X9bs6_YSP0jmvdofw9bymDllb4uGogLUWqL3znwePBa50u8z4pcwXhT3AqZNA7tzQjamWBbtPXBIBBkPvmIpGRUc0LGj9qRckJuhyphenhyphenaCESM_6W/s1600/DSC_0962-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35tL-FY0kdzrVcSt0idkqYqZTGNZ1VI1X9bs6_YSP0jmvdofw9bymDllb4uGogLUWqL3znwePBa50u8z4pcwXhT3AqZNA7tzQjamWBbtPXBIBBkPvmIpGRUc0LGj9qRckJuhyphenhyphenaCESM_6W/s400/DSC_0962-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561443308066102994" border="0" /></a>We saw lights, we wrote letters to Santa, and I asked the girls to consider giving something of themselves that would mean the world to someone else..... And they did.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42F_g_S_FYmT_fneJ_YSoA7Xv-5Q1h3nqew9UJVfZ1ept4xoyAgrx-4D8Qqql-ENysVTx3swACIm47uc8hHitOxSYwMUYZdYLl6Irm2K-UNwXABdVQ9b2FBxQk9Vd3lvF-D6XOnFzfDTs/s1600/DSC_0994-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42F_g_S_FYmT_fneJ_YSoA7Xv-5Q1h3nqew9UJVfZ1ept4xoyAgrx-4D8Qqql-ENysVTx3swACIm47uc8hHitOxSYwMUYZdYLl6Irm2K-UNwXABdVQ9b2FBxQk9Vd3lvF-D6XOnFzfDTs/s400/DSC_0994-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561440376629425458" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtaWl6jVSASMFeIRi8apAuxHJ9CUSWPMJCeRk5DAuUeD_El27pX6_L1p1PIjpKdPUO5YMbNe1OqMWeKp8y6vhB-aq1BSAa5d_EmLI4VQKIId9iSndARgWJITkpFb680zSKgw2orKkTipK/s1600/DSC_0992-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtaWl6jVSASMFeIRi8apAuxHJ9CUSWPMJCeRk5DAuUeD_El27pX6_L1p1PIjpKdPUO5YMbNe1OqMWeKp8y6vhB-aq1BSAa5d_EmLI4VQKIId9iSndARgWJITkpFb680zSKgw2orKkTipK/s400/DSC_0992-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561440372148721954" border="0" /></a>I am proud to say that between the 2 of my girls, 22 inches of hair was donated to <a href="http://www.pantene.com/en-us/beautiful-lengths-cause/Pages/default.aspx?TID=47db7add-6963-40ee-8b96-786d2b55119e">Pantene Beautiful Lengths Program</a>...10 from one Apple, 12 from the other. They did this in honor of my best friend's Daddy, Papa Les, ...who is battling stomach cancer.<br /><br />Christmas Eve was full of magic.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTMCZTeN6y4HL_w0QkXg29HvHPq886LiFySYoM1qGfRxXCqDNAqwpaiM1EVesAtj2z7TB8v0PtRRYszoX3U0b25x_3ycc2t9_qCtqrxb3FTCRnZp_GvutwwcgjyNoeQYA5icBcC_7-Tfj/s1600/DSC_0007-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTMCZTeN6y4HL_w0QkXg29HvHPq886LiFySYoM1qGfRxXCqDNAqwpaiM1EVesAtj2z7TB8v0PtRRYszoX3U0b25x_3ycc2t9_qCtqrxb3FTCRnZp_GvutwwcgjyNoeQYA5icBcC_7-Tfj/s400/DSC_0007-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561439693312972930" border="0" /></a>And cookies. The tiny carrots you see cam straight from our garden. You will be pleased to know, that the reindeer left the store bought carrots behind, and ate only the ones from the garden.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIbgoW1H_t_59stdQTgfiD_lRaydGvlyiNDQ4UoJzFbrZZC_ZlC7QRlFWbtEQwXUZms_rjPqeInZUgfiU9OSCcuUg0LYOMpIVSSEJDK7SNyLC82qEX1MU8cj7hpX0bTEo0bXXWfEG3OVP6/s1600/DSC_0014-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIbgoW1H_t_59stdQTgfiD_lRaydGvlyiNDQ4UoJzFbrZZC_ZlC7QRlFWbtEQwXUZms_rjPqeInZUgfiU9OSCcuUg0LYOMpIVSSEJDK7SNyLC82qEX1MU8cj7hpX0bTEo0bXXWfEG3OVP6/s400/DSC_0014-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561440363509055522" border="0" /></a>Daddy read all of our favorite Christmas stories, and each of Little Apples opened a new pair of pajamas. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzgkqmh1GxGF81z1L8vaBeR27vrteKw-4jGaiwsCss_-N9yfCMXaMKufFL2KGfdJO8aR6Tq_Qpq2NPvtcmfUJrixTvOmQmXT7VqtBDx91pvTGTv66Guf7-0mZWO9OnoIiN-IVylLDIkyT/s1600/DSC_0020-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzgkqmh1GxGF81z1L8vaBeR27vrteKw-4jGaiwsCss_-N9yfCMXaMKufFL2KGfdJO8aR6Tq_Qpq2NPvtcmfUJrixTvOmQmXT7VqtBDx91pvTGTv66Guf7-0mZWO9OnoIiN-IVylLDIkyT/s400/DSC_0020-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561439698430517362" border="0" /></a>And Santa came, and with him, timely reminders of why we celebrate the Christmas season.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4l8rEswHT0vPcrIcK17k6IihNDvDQnIf6DFWnB8u-gllx3T10OazSRCAQtu15CU0QsfxfD-dz3fQBIC_DS0o08OrZHZudELpYRUnGT98TAIJejEp7ZFmCVM_hXH9tXwVbk3zqg7mQVp9M/s1600/DSC_0059-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4l8rEswHT0vPcrIcK17k6IihNDvDQnIf6DFWnB8u-gllx3T10OazSRCAQtu15CU0QsfxfD-dz3fQBIC_DS0o08OrZHZudELpYRUnGT98TAIJejEp7ZFmCVM_hXH9tXwVbk3zqg7mQVp9M/s400/DSC_0059-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561443294058104258" border="0" /></a>My mom and nephew, The Cannon, arrived the day after Christmas. And what a blessing that turned out to be. The day after Christmas, my husband slept most of the day. Which was weird...even for him. And he felt like he had the flu.<br /><br />Only it wasn't. The day after that, he came down with a full blown case of the Chicken Pox. It was a gift that just kept on giving. His case was soooooooo bad in fact, he has refused to allow me to post the one and only picture of him that I have of him with the Chicken Pox. Having Geeya here was a Godsend for sure, as she was available to play with the children, cook all of my favorites (I have 6 bonus pounds from that week!), and spoil everyone in the house rotten for days. It was wonderful.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9wwrTq7kYWJO7P1zqHzxmrke_lCOc6btRI9icerVTpgCDvZTldJ7mM-5YJlYQfjuDasKxlIsnw6G3edIo0478ux60Izxj5If-zcrulWbEzKQub_baAcIlGHBM1jvr3vDZ-kebUFo5OTS4/s1600/DSC_0084-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9wwrTq7kYWJO7P1zqHzxmrke_lCOc6btRI9icerVTpgCDvZTldJ7mM-5YJlYQfjuDasKxlIsnw6G3edIo0478ux60Izxj5If-zcrulWbEzKQub_baAcIlGHBM1jvr3vDZ-kebUFo5OTS4/s400/DSC_0084-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561470014274008594" border="0" /></a>You see that pie? It was sooooooooo good. Just like the ones I enjoyed for every holiday as a kid.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Gakg0VfNaxvcRu3feRldKhKIq9owHgL5Dc91g9yoCW75y2Hka1HnSnHiuuIFKb81VjrDcQJZLh5ikV8BF7gYIyw5p9SIRhXnKQg97u_eBpr3F2LuWH6WHKQQu60xQR7gYmh4dNR4iffO/s1600/DSC_0080-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Gakg0VfNaxvcRu3feRldKhKIq9owHgL5Dc91g9yoCW75y2Hka1HnSnHiuuIFKb81VjrDcQJZLh5ikV8BF7gYIyw5p9SIRhXnKQg97u_eBpr3F2LuWH6WHKQQu60xQR7gYmh4dNR4iffO/s400/DSC_0080-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561470019854030210" border="0" /></a>And although we didn't go anywhere or do anything special, we did what families do....we enjoyed each others company. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCY3urc_Eq3Ymj0pBm1HGNz-MSGgZyYJUJheZH3fWBJvZ5oMocagHl5SV2fW8CpbfJ9tjQAPmi2FBSsLhdKxgnO7VeO_WZXvqMEaq4JCgJAIhaGLSZI58Y2zHbMoHjGfLvAkMEKqtVkTJ/s1600/DSC_0129-2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCY3urc_Eq3Ymj0pBm1HGNz-MSGgZyYJUJheZH3fWBJvZ5oMocagHl5SV2fW8CpbfJ9tjQAPmi2FBSsLhdKxgnO7VeO_WZXvqMEaq4JCgJAIhaGLSZI58Y2zHbMoHjGfLvAkMEKqtVkTJ/s400/DSC_0129-2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561470019775556354" border="0" /></a>And finally....(if you've hung on to this post this long, you get a gold star!), because of our Chicken Pox infested household, The Little Apples had to miss their dance recital. And the performance at a church too. I DID, however, have the pleasure of getting to see them do their dances at the Awards Party. I was sooooo moved to tears watching both of them perform. They know that the gift of dance was a gift from God and choose to dance for Jesus. I am so proud of them!<br /><br />There. I think I'm all caught up. I hope. Until someone posts something that I missed. In the meantime, Happy New Year everyone. May this be the best, and most blessed year ever!<br /><br />Love, Jennyapplesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-57697930467317553572010-12-02T13:02:00.004-05:002010-12-02T13:49:30.259-05:00Winter White GreenI have a hard time believing we are in the Christmas Season already. While the temperature has dropped nicely, I had to wear sandels to the store the other day to pick up some ornament hooks.<br /><br />Here's other reasons why I have a hard time believing it's Christmas time:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqDp4EdGy26RsTAxM27L9YjJ4b8HuNqGB8vlprgseojE3nQvP5jdzKMrdzK-8cnYzL_rBZLNDPcPp8n968uVwxEanFseC9Q9ZCgKwMzkBI7o2GkJJrWa8XhBjEyj5dzQnTBrF3RG-Sy_Av/s1600/DSC_0773-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqDp4EdGy26RsTAxM27L9YjJ4b8HuNqGB8vlprgseojE3nQvP5jdzKMrdzK-8cnYzL_rBZLNDPcPp8n968uVwxEanFseC9Q9ZCgKwMzkBI7o2GkJJrWa8XhBjEyj5dzQnTBrF3RG-Sy_Av/s400/DSC_0773-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546148621538783154" border="0" /></a>My enormous cabbage. It's absolutely huge. Pretty sure when it's time to pick it, I won't be able to lift it. Nor have a pot big enough to cook it in.<br /><br />Pea pods. We have tons of these, except they don't last long enough to grow into peas...The Big Apple and myself are guilty of going outside and having a little snack when we think the other isn't watching.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLA1beO3RvWJHjD6eYfPXmr7IhAIFUZFeZFnl612JYnUztNQaciindzLEA_v_r0R7-XuaJXyxcb21pT7QP3bbwNoaohXAxh4Q0ENwUT8VI6OdBi_Pb8kPOKQSvnf97Ic6gIw7pIPQkVBCe/s1600/DSC_0775-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLA1beO3RvWJHjD6eYfPXmr7IhAIFUZFeZFnl612JYnUztNQaciindzLEA_v_r0R7-XuaJXyxcb21pT7QP3bbwNoaohXAxh4Q0ENwUT8VI6OdBi_Pb8kPOKQSvnf97Ic6gIw7pIPQkVBCe/s400/DSC_0775-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546148631597923618" border="0" /></a><br />Baby Spinach. Another item that doesn't last long. It tastes too good in my salad to grow into Adult spinach. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9Nufnsk6y5ut2HZ_T0KMtUIWuhEvxjCI1dr_RP_fVWsvf7GZeqDNL9BxKPiwtdKq71B5NNfgT-Bc0fjWlLpclqE99Rf4o9TIw-bqfYEGaCngv8iuyEc44ycDkLouZI86zCoeDjrUjwyv/s1600/DSC_0777-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9Nufnsk6y5ut2HZ_T0KMtUIWuhEvxjCI1dr_RP_fVWsvf7GZeqDNL9BxKPiwtdKq71B5NNfgT-Bc0fjWlLpclqE99Rf4o9TIw-bqfYEGaCngv8iuyEc44ycDkLouZI86zCoeDjrUjwyv/s400/DSC_0777-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546148649217457810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Spring Mix Salad????</span> Yup, that's what I planted, and now I have so much salad, I barely can eat it all myself. It's a good think I have a few helpers that can go out and pick a bowl of salad to eat with their dinner.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKVsO43yzuxXoVTcjiJXFIeD3o-p9WBUay1mnZel4mU1XrBO2tr-VI1SzlzouGKN9h5ZlNmxarwFf8fx2-MmOeMysXy6h0Hiil4bOCHOQ9KyL4NTGjzwqt2azm0C86C2QR6QMQR7vEdSM/s1600/DSC_0776-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKVsO43yzuxXoVTcjiJXFIeD3o-p9WBUay1mnZel4mU1XrBO2tr-VI1SzlzouGKN9h5ZlNmxarwFf8fx2-MmOeMysXy6h0Hiil4bOCHOQ9KyL4NTGjzwqt2azm0C86C2QR6QMQR7vEdSM/s400/DSC_0776-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546148634516296338" border="0" /></a>Sweet little blooms...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KdcOTHYZ3PyxvcwsSzHtrQWmJgSA2XG0-EhZ9AtFLo8Kb_EB-8Rhtx82o8x17W4gfhDpVd9w-J03gftWYX_HxrL8abKRJdaT27mH2KrCrLGv6zhvupR5jkuTmYo9LDlJqtpy-Bnhyeum/s1600/DSC_0778-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KdcOTHYZ3PyxvcwsSzHtrQWmJgSA2XG0-EhZ9AtFLo8Kb_EB-8Rhtx82o8x17W4gfhDpVd9w-J03gftWYX_HxrL8abKRJdaT27mH2KrCrLGv6zhvupR5jkuTmYo9LDlJqtpy-Bnhyeum/s400/DSC_0778-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546156754486636466" border="0" /></a>In a couple of weeks, these pretty dainty things will be more pea pods for us to eat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEgB_GzncsLkLiQOzShUEQrtY4WVtz8RDycyBbnr8XIfEokxZ0nRV4d2GveePYomtI8w6RenkXZ4602CENBBTtHuPzvIiYhZqRNhR8SoyVteXRDrs4mkUz59-2j_2_UjOdKVPGNHXK7LU/s1600/DSC_0779-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEgB_GzncsLkLiQOzShUEQrtY4WVtz8RDycyBbnr8XIfEokxZ0nRV4d2GveePYomtI8w6RenkXZ4602CENBBTtHuPzvIiYhZqRNhR8SoyVteXRDrs4mkUz59-2j_2_UjOdKVPGNHXK7LU/s400/DSC_0779-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546156753611082754" border="0" /></a>We also have carrots growing, but aren't nearly ready yet.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6E4HxDzyQ5xTQzqSYvAlewShHR1FXS89Shs80wlRPsIPL2e0M0dw8xjlIef8rNZTkYovXnL3FU0awWuGtZthuh9jjPDzrZD2uS8XTwQuZcI8RX8LC0At_s4f5dr7OHJqC5dTXkdLw7DAl/s1600/DSC_0780-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6E4HxDzyQ5xTQzqSYvAlewShHR1FXS89Shs80wlRPsIPL2e0M0dw8xjlIef8rNZTkYovXnL3FU0awWuGtZthuh9jjPDzrZD2uS8XTwQuZcI8RX8LC0At_s4f5dr7OHJqC5dTXkdLw7DAl/s400/DSC_0780-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546156760045956866" border="0" /></a>We also have a ton of basil, rosemary, and oregano.<br /><br />So, while yall are dreaming of a White Christmas....I'll be dreaming of a green Christmas just the same. :)applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-72391334349862908702010-11-29T00:47:00.004-05:002010-11-29T00:52:46.802-05:00Topping the tree....The Little Apple was given the honor of topping the Christmas Tree with the angel this year.....<br /><br />Given a little boost by her dad...she completes the tree.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihVXo79fUsQ5uLwGTIh7ZdO8xqr3jyoUDSVSieJAhoQY10xysLLRTT3pLwG1Bn-_OSTv68tcmIN4oYAY3e90TsBcyPAhViMtryYVKvTiF8UMIgFl6xAPFuTNiisv6QgpzQ4nbjmcf8wtK/s1600/DSC_0765-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihVXo79fUsQ5uLwGTIh7ZdO8xqr3jyoUDSVSieJAhoQY10xysLLRTT3pLwG1Bn-_OSTv68tcmIN4oYAY3e90TsBcyPAhViMtryYVKvTiF8UMIgFl6xAPFuTNiisv6QgpzQ4nbjmcf8wtK/s400/DSC_0765-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544844629803560546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> ......or.........<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVChi6epmF0uKFBbw181LvPbdT31yOAGxQzTAqOMwisOdfUGiOpLTCb8bH1tHNL9c9mLeDDcNX5B13-r27_Klqis7nKpeNYHGHUZPC4SRRFrtq9N71bSGpqFcVysYHAUyyY1adeZsDe4sN/s1600/DSC_0766-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 338px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVChi6epmF0uKFBbw181LvPbdT31yOAGxQzTAqOMwisOdfUGiOpLTCb8bH1tHNL9c9mLeDDcNX5B13-r27_Klqis7nKpeNYHGHUZPC4SRRFrtq9N71bSGpqFcVysYHAUyyY1adeZsDe4sN/s400/DSC_0766-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544844634324096370" border="0" /></a><br />Maybe she doesn't. The Little Apple proved to be a complete failure at tree topping.<br /><br /> Better luck next year kid.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-48141865317548691072010-11-28T23:02:00.005-05:002010-11-28T23:58:09.188-05:00Santa Claus is Coming to Town!I hope that everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Our day was pretty close to perfect! I had stayed up the night before very very late, prepping the turkey, making pies of all sorts, cleaning, decorating the table, etc. The following morning, my husband got up early and put the turkey in the oven and allowed me to sleep in.....it has yet to be settled exactly WHO gets credit for making the turkey....the person that did the grunt work, or the one who got up at the crack of dawn to put it in the oven....Vote anyone?<br /><br />Well, in doing his best to help me out, my darling husband forgot exactly what time he put Big Bird in the oven. I was hoping to have our feast set before us on the table around Noon....but without knowing what time to expect the turkey to be ready, I really had no clue as to when to start the side dishes. Ah well. I turned on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and sat with my favorite girls in the whole world as they ooooooh'ed and ahhhhhh'ed over the balloons and bands. I hope to one day be able to go to New York City to watch it in person some day.<br /><br />I kid you not, I went to baste the turkey again at 10:30, and the little pop up thingie they stick in the breast was sitting up. <span style="font-style: italic;">That can't be right!?!?!? We are eating at noon!</span> So I stuck a regular meat thermometer in Big Bird, and sure enough....The bird was done. Fully cooked, looking beautiful....and no side dishes to eat. The potatoes hadn't been pealed for Eben's Famous Mashed Spuds, no green bean casserole, no cranberry sauce (I cheat...this one came from a can this year)...not a thing was ready. I almost literally had to beat my husband off the turkey with a stick so he would not cut it until the rest of the meal was ready.<br /><br />But it was worth the wait. An hour later, we were seated together at the table, candlelight shining on happy and hungry faces. We are all truly blessed and have so much to be thankful for. The dinner was delicious, and we were blessed with the opportunity to carry some of the meal to a couple whose plans to go out of town were unexpectedly changed...and I think they appreciated it.<br /><br />We all relaxed and nibbled on the food the remainder of the day. That evening....we went to a very cute event, where we got to welcome Santa to town, and help kick off the Christmas Season.<br /><br />Now, most of you know, since we are a family that is on the move, we do not get to see our relatives as often as we would like. So we have what we call "Adopt a Relatives" in every state that we live in. And Louisiana has been no exception. Interestingly enough, our <a href="http://cajunsis.blogspot.com/">"Adopt-</a><a href="http://cajunsis.blogspot.com/">a-Granny"</a> and "Adopt-a-Papa" have been back and forth from Singapore the entire time we have lived here. And we are happy that we have them here for a couple of months. The Middle Apple always picks up right where she left off when Papa comes around. We are so thankful for all of the friends that have been a source of love to our kids. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuvPf5-LY9eMr1zKqJi26dF8YpbI5SZUwOmJbjjbHh8KTudIXF48yrPp4NM4svZC1O2LvBW5CCqFoqYnUXaptgn-65LrHSlwVCUQ4CKeMmvcBM6Vhq33AAZnfHTehmGMUmj-kSBOJxCyC/s1600/DSC_0724-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuvPf5-LY9eMr1zKqJi26dF8YpbI5SZUwOmJbjjbHh8KTudIXF48yrPp4NM4svZC1O2LvBW5CCqFoqYnUXaptgn-65LrHSlwVCUQ4CKeMmvcBM6Vhq33AAZnfHTehmGMUmj-kSBOJxCyC/s400/DSC_0724-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544822048088261682" border="0" /></a><br />After singing a few Christmas Carols, Santa arrived by fire truck! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwRcjJ_yyQWZZnljbx66U4RZQAOXYme-1Apd7j24d_DmA2CigsGRW58E-0hvYv_elTGWRwMH1dE2K3PY0Vm9nM2R0Q9PFCynR7JuW29ccLB1Y5wlJZtx0RdsjfykIkq24Uouc96i7Ihaj/s1600/DSC_0736-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwRcjJ_yyQWZZnljbx66U4RZQAOXYme-1Apd7j24d_DmA2CigsGRW58E-0hvYv_elTGWRwMH1dE2K3PY0Vm9nM2R0Q9PFCynR7JuW29ccLB1Y5wlJZtx0RdsjfykIkq24Uouc96i7Ihaj/s400/DSC_0736-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544822047071847970" border="0" /></a><br />I thought Santa and Mrs. Claus were absolutely adorable. Each child could go visit with them and tell them their Christmas wish. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrAQs975OqRsy-7JDLmertAHMTLpkzc8DdkNPT4YaRLbBnjtXHfngqPv53Oihga3N2wZqEMdF-pd2pbpRGyOPGjCG2OSdGIdJTm5vdws6sk1QEm7QIGZlBl0Isl9U-g44Ps02Utr8fn6w/s1600/DSC_0748-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrAQs975OqRsy-7JDLmertAHMTLpkzc8DdkNPT4YaRLbBnjtXHfngqPv53Oihga3N2wZqEMdF-pd2pbpRGyOPGjCG2OSdGIdJTm5vdws6sk1QEm7QIGZlBl0Isl9U-g44Ps02Utr8fn6w/s400/DSC_0748-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544822058345596050" border="0" /></a><br />The Middle Apple and Santa in this picture I will probably treasure for a long time. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguVQcJboprjhMEWjqxrhwLI7OGCfWvlsFf6ULKQOw_Vacr_Il_k0G7XPVdeFgQf6npHDjFXP3d2cs7qXb8lyaZfQ5ZQNrNtWSzmlM3-gS7gJ9CHMRXMLEdA6blZary6dIk4X2JePpAyuOe/s1600/DSC_0749-1.JPG"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFVPxwtGVnaLBeYYBe-m0Y4xgB21icGqr1B1-QVQjr0j_TdVZVm19egBYys0AI2UV1BbLC1HHz6RfDKXa5g9dwLe3VMiDqqWFtWSmsmYakx5iaWBJJYQGMC-8b-UPCiXMG14P0ME6Ri7w/s1600/DSC_0749-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFVPxwtGVnaLBeYYBe-m0Y4xgB21icGqr1B1-QVQjr0j_TdVZVm19egBYys0AI2UV1BbLC1HHz6RfDKXa5g9dwLe3VMiDqqWFtWSmsmYakx5iaWBJJYQGMC-8b-UPCiXMG14P0ME6Ri7w/s400/DSC_0749-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544831230596562642" border="0" /></a><br />The Big Apple was rendered speechless when it was her turn to visit with Jolly Ol' St. Nicholas. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2E6x1su5_i02RXy6wfIQ8DBvDuQKfHDNptbTKXHcol0i4eZEfQyx9RnKTJpwg0l1SB7FArb6YNaSC2M79NN_YH7EkBAYOeE_7H6afhMMx3R5ShCOH-tFHtbfdaYHsFqoBbVjNdrBx2fv/s1600/DSC_0752-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2E6x1su5_i02RXy6wfIQ8DBvDuQKfHDNptbTKXHcol0i4eZEfQyx9RnKTJpwg0l1SB7FArb6YNaSC2M79NN_YH7EkBAYOeE_7H6afhMMx3R5ShCOH-tFHtbfdaYHsFqoBbVjNdrBx2fv/s400/DSC_0752-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544825817083260034" border="0" /></a>Santa gave each child a little toy. And there was plenty of cookies to eat......<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiyrgYs1udpOo61UMN0Pc_gEFsJYSNqwowvj-syLhXGrdUyOGxUYmMepe7LTGamqIMWyYDvWjtNIiLHNwNOiqX5styPAE18pj9y_Mdaewwc7YXoxSLenwVWhVrLqOan2e4gWTaPbfjdscH/s1600/DSC_0763-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiyrgYs1udpOo61UMN0Pc_gEFsJYSNqwowvj-syLhXGrdUyOGxUYmMepe7LTGamqIMWyYDvWjtNIiLHNwNOiqX5styPAE18pj9y_Mdaewwc7YXoxSLenwVWhVrLqOan2e4gWTaPbfjdscH/s400/DSC_0763-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544825822734406050" border="0" /></a>And cold chocolate (we don't drink Hot Chocolate here in the south where it's 83 degrees on Thanksgiving Day. My kids and I were covered in clothing simply to keep the mosquitoes from eating us alive.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGGYKhgHXMV8UOzvlBNeXpz19cky8Nl17AIblvJdIMShI5NzGwNRIFGq0dwsF_cdoKhbPB9h3EGqJpZT5fUNgUyz5qCx1zsEK-JpgYrUAPMEYf19SMd_CZkNkZ5zPBjFKe6YK54L5y3Au/s1600/DSC_0756-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGGYKhgHXMV8UOzvlBNeXpz19cky8Nl17AIblvJdIMShI5NzGwNRIFGq0dwsF_cdoKhbPB9h3EGqJpZT5fUNgUyz5qCx1zsEK-JpgYrUAPMEYf19SMd_CZkNkZ5zPBjFKe6YK54L5y3Au/s400/DSC_0756-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544825817883990418" border="0" /></a>We finished off the day by going to <a href="http://www.cajunhomeschool.blogspot.com/">Ms. Stephenie's</a> house and playing a sidesplitting game of UNO and eating a slice apple pie good enough to make you cry.<br /><br />It really was a wonderful day. We are all blessed and thankful to God each day for our friends, family, health, and finances.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-68028197182149748382010-11-11T21:12:00.003-05:002010-11-11T21:37:12.881-05:00The birth of a tradition...We have a lot to be thankful for.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmAirwz6XzBcUY_igLu7zShblz1JBwrea6Q2A6GdmfIsNjby1KKQQSJ553WElaJgbkDasBGdDnWqdcvkCQWYQljssuGhnwDQdKRGv7dhiaeevJrxGD_VrkAaLBc1u_D5qjPFEp3awDl-y/s1600/DSC_0720-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 346px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmAirwz6XzBcUY_igLu7zShblz1JBwrea6Q2A6GdmfIsNjby1KKQQSJ553WElaJgbkDasBGdDnWqdcvkCQWYQljssuGhnwDQdKRGv7dhiaeevJrxGD_VrkAaLBc1u_D5qjPFEp3awDl-y/s400/DSC_0720-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538483348437705362" border="0" /></a>A new traditions was born in our home this evening, and it was so well received that I am hoping that we will repeat it every year.<br /><br />The started with The Big Apple, and her big ideas that everyone in our family should make a big list of everything that we are thankful for, and post it on the wall. (Unable to find an empty wall in our house, we had to confine this idea to the backside of the back door!)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2wxzOPWMSfJ6sczdnkyahoMTQeUDZnbObX1PUJjz7oDiawI_pk86NAyGtpjVO-xtN_OXEI0-UeAF39cB4EivbMtDDNx4wNKsFUlhDITo8N67HxpY-P_7XD5jN-syKARbPTrbYHReC-4r/s1600/DSC_0713-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 369px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2wxzOPWMSfJ6sczdnkyahoMTQeUDZnbObX1PUJjz7oDiawI_pk86NAyGtpjVO-xtN_OXEI0-UeAF39cB4EivbMtDDNx4wNKsFUlhDITo8N67HxpY-P_7XD5jN-syKARbPTrbYHReC-4r/s400/DSC_0713-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538483349679877170" border="0" /></a>So we got some paper leaves, of the bulletin board variety, and got busy. 11 leaves per member of the family tonight, one for every day of the month that we have missed so far, and at least one more a day for the remainder of the month. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9MlUmPeOeo3ELlkXOyUTzqWmZp2f2a4oR2cJ8a2Tg-HIzQz9tNmeeiEYLnE_ngY4z2nA0Sslqrw1eeV-suJwytoo6TU8UukIYJh5j_2jMl47dSoO9N7zls2tik-GT6mS_hptpXKNpNoW/s1600/DSC_0712-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9MlUmPeOeo3ELlkXOyUTzqWmZp2f2a4oR2cJ8a2Tg-HIzQz9tNmeeiEYLnE_ngY4z2nA0Sslqrw1eeV-suJwytoo6TU8UukIYJh5j_2jMl47dSoO9N7zls2tik-GT6mS_hptpXKNpNoW/s400/DSC_0712-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538483340831712626" border="0" /></a>Once they got started writing, the ideas kept flowing. My family and I were filled with beautiful things that we are thankful for.....some were interesting and humorous entries, like....coffee, China, Santa, Yellow Elephant, and naptime....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHtkvnbQ028-o15VjprjmtdkHC4oN9EIywexBRsXvey8Lmp73KDk36ueMg_v1yhdC3zywAHT8bYXBXyv83gkpLSYPND-FpG8GVa8vm1EIMmnmJdNotccVkiVI5iCsYEf8CEYwUrGKKj3Z/s1600/DSC_0715-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHtkvnbQ028-o15VjprjmtdkHC4oN9EIywexBRsXvey8Lmp73KDk36ueMg_v1yhdC3zywAHT8bYXBXyv83gkpLSYPND-FpG8GVa8vm1EIMmnmJdNotccVkiVI5iCsYEf8CEYwUrGKKj3Z/s400/DSC_0715-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538483354116613698" border="0" /></a>...and entries that make you think....like Love, health, and friends. <br /><br />We have a lot to be thankful for at our house.<br /><br />What are you thankful for?applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-64122676526200154702010-11-08T12:47:00.005-05:002010-11-08T14:17:10.422-05:00Louisiana Renaissance Festival Weekend.My husband texted me earlier last week not to make any plans for over the weekend, that he had an idea of how to make the girls' Halloween Costumes get stretched a little further.<br /><br />Little did I know what he had in mind. He ended up taking us to the opening weekend of the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.larf.org">Louisiana Renaissance Festival</a> season. And what a fantastic time we had. These are just a few of the highlights from the weekend.<br /><br />We listened to plenty of fun and festive music.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpW7TuBFEYuxy1VEh8S5yunAWnYeTAiRiw14ZGGDNyH67h9m8hsDKJTURh6rZu3os2e2aeqT0FjbNEfqVs0IXlZ4zuHnX8Yrt3vYXLU8H6UKqo-Y7pBS9ssfE4sG6tcI_f3gyOeftBeouP/s1600/DSC_0628-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpW7TuBFEYuxy1VEh8S5yunAWnYeTAiRiw14ZGGDNyH67h9m8hsDKJTURh6rZu3os2e2aeqT0FjbNEfqVs0IXlZ4zuHnX8Yrt3vYXLU8H6UKqo-Y7pBS9ssfE4sG6tcI_f3gyOeftBeouP/s400/DSC_0628-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537240100550577570" border="0" /></a>We ate and drank the tasty things. This particular jug you buy for $6 and has free refills for the remainder of the life of the bottle. The festival made no money off of this family, as it was refilled many times with root beer, creme soda, and wizard wine throughout the days.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgST3HybGoFHBlfH31wyYrfmfPVSjNwF4tlGC3_VCfCkTdt1RXr6j_WzKJ8MzbyPR91T2xTtCH-YxWJBl8zhbu7Lmdp0IkHT-LgXh07q82VWbJefjDro4Dm8HeAba6pptuRBcLaraxEHqUE/s1600/DSC_0704-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgST3HybGoFHBlfH31wyYrfmfPVSjNwF4tlGC3_VCfCkTdt1RXr6j_WzKJ8MzbyPR91T2xTtCH-YxWJBl8zhbu7Lmdp0IkHT-LgXh07q82VWbJefjDro4Dm8HeAba6pptuRBcLaraxEHqUE/s400/DSC_0704-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537240126084742642" border="0" /></a>There were lots of animals. There was a very dog show for the kids, a fantastic falconry show, horses to ride, and these little tiny little guys that the girls were content with just feeding blades of grass and petting. They looked like they had worked hard enough that day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxQLI967oHxEpLBHwLnoSwtJy4rZ2G0oNR4vmos9lUUKegc5ynu955QEpImQe1P0NzzdyaRO-o543VFOlNNRcLy9nQZ0ockqq9PsSONoVh4xuypjSaCZKSqY_PwbTKcdRtgS-6f0Yzw-f/s1600/DSC_0698-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxQLI967oHxEpLBHwLnoSwtJy4rZ2G0oNR4vmos9lUUKegc5ynu955QEpImQe1P0NzzdyaRO-o543VFOlNNRcLy9nQZ0ockqq9PsSONoVh4xuypjSaCZKSqY_PwbTKcdRtgS-6f0Yzw-f/s400/DSC_0698-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537244791481824082" border="0" /></a>We saw jugglers (the Middle Apple's favorite part, as she got to participate in the show)...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrULaY5on3p6FbfeYMNkCYSeQsSUVYnQOxbjaBJg3G42tglSeytEhoxNa4Jksc3SonZp1qaDvYvHq0vzn2DoSCieQLR2eSyAPLAaPqh4pFiWICiA2nv1Cc1d4hrGiBar0i42gdfAsP7H-t/s1600/DSC_0651-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrULaY5on3p6FbfeYMNkCYSeQsSUVYnQOxbjaBJg3G42tglSeytEhoxNa4Jksc3SonZp1qaDvYvHq0vzn2DoSCieQLR2eSyAPLAaPqh4pFiWICiA2nv1Cc1d4hrGiBar0i42gdfAsP7H-t/s400/DSC_0651-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537240107795080274" border="0" /></a>And jousting.....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHik6oaEYbOto7zJ9snpKNrduvWbA2f3Qxxcq3jN6GxrEUW49g7GL9R3pBJFxoebX6UKldbyDfnbELj3SZEOb9jxpRACWy4lgO6WUpJlJk2gawXPX0UyZ21NMfmFqLxbQf2W6T2ssyDUT6/s1600/DSC_0682-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHik6oaEYbOto7zJ9snpKNrduvWbA2f3Qxxcq3jN6GxrEUW49g7GL9R3pBJFxoebX6UKldbyDfnbELj3SZEOb9jxpRACWy4lgO6WUpJlJk2gawXPX0UyZ21NMfmFqLxbQf2W6T2ssyDUT6/s400/DSC_0682-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537240115227594898" border="0" /></a><br />Now, I simply must share this little story about the Middle Apple....because it's just like her, and while I was sort of mortified that this happened at first, I can chuckle about it now. I am also kicking myself because I wasn't taking video of it.<br /><br />When we arrived at the jousting, the two knights mounted their horses and the audience took sides on who would win. Red and Gold vs. Black and Gold. Naturally, we picked the Black and Gold Team, we are true Louisiana lovers at heart. The Red and Gold knight was doing his speech about how he was going to slaughter the Black and Gold knight, and then the heckling from the audience started. My Middle Apple, caught up in the moment, yelled at the top of her voice as the Red and Black rode towards his corner on his horse "I'VE NEVER SEEN A HORSE WITH TWO REAR ENDS BEFORE!"<br /><br />I was rather mortified that she had yelled that (but also recognized it as a line from the movie Alladin), but the audience loved it. So did the Black and Gold Knight. He took the stage on his horse, and said "I see that that little girl over there with her plastic sword has more courage than you do! Ha!" *laughter from the audience* Red and Gold replied in a not so friendly tone, "Well give her your sword, sir, maybe she will actually fight...though I doubt she could lift the sword if she tried." *more laughter* At this point, I'm pretty sure the Middle Apple, a girl who will rise to any challenge set before her, would have taken her plastic sword and taken down the knight herself if not for me telling her to stay where she was. Black and Gold appeared to pondered all this for a second and replied "Perhaps she is unable to lift the sword. And that is why I must fight in her place as her champion!" <br /><br />The jousting ensued, and unfortunately the Red and Gold cheated terribly and our champion was defeated. This was a little too much for The Middle Apple to bear, as she is a little girl that believes in justice and that cheaters never win. I had to explain to the kids that it's all fake and the knights probably take turns winning. The girls seemed to think that was an acceptable answer.<br /><br />Our other gem of a moment that happened at the Festival was the opportunity to be "knighted" or made "Ladies of the Court" by Queen Elizabeth. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgM4tU_bwRzPQy6Nc3fBhZao4POxscKGS4AYQPRdcn6DvBsfpCpSbkAQWjaxhnxZcXs1edjgbPQuOg0DaL_euriwyP3N9Ulps4I4qIXP_NaxKidtCrNAMYge5meTdd34fhHDdOeQDE1YWK/s1600/DSC_0635-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgM4tU_bwRzPQy6Nc3fBhZao4POxscKGS4AYQPRdcn6DvBsfpCpSbkAQWjaxhnxZcXs1edjgbPQuOg0DaL_euriwyP3N9Ulps4I4qIXP_NaxKidtCrNAMYge5meTdd34fhHDdOeQDE1YWK/s400/DSC_0635-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537244794369875186" border="0" /></a>My girls, once again attempting to break those gender barriers, asked to please be knighted and made real Musketeers. My darling husband recorded the ceremony, so we have on record the 3 Apples promising to work hard in school, and be obedient to their parents. Thank you Queen Elizabeth!!! You rock!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYX6S779hPpjSKQczlfcEUBi1QAV8hgnxD0yDT4hoFy6NeBN8d83sKnXxlXQ8yBXqbY0g9x0NlSlytqQNuFnUPTuCPy6ATBINAYtlFHrybAlpH4yObUtES7CK6YJ_ahf25Vb9l7BDF1ju/s1600/DSC_0637-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYX6S779hPpjSKQczlfcEUBi1QAV8hgnxD0yDT4hoFy6NeBN8d83sKnXxlXQ8yBXqbY0g9x0NlSlytqQNuFnUPTuCPy6ATBINAYtlFHrybAlpH4yObUtES7CK6YJ_ahf25Vb9l7BDF1ju/s400/DSC_0637-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537244799923140146" border="0" /></a>And for their courage and bravery, the 3 Musketeers, sworn to protect The Queen, they were asked to personally escort Her Majesty in her processional, and protect her carriage.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGRpOPcF4BOJnrEg86clhdqp_Vj-oc9U64IWZm6EFHtHeUqLN210yOjarGYhqAVnbA4rVmWoqxp-4hSq-2tfN4KoGelaeZx4jgpYoK3LZZKUduAPP_I-inkQmwfDm6kb0oHuCKm5aqExMo/s1600/DSC_0668-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGRpOPcF4BOJnrEg86clhdqp_Vj-oc9U64IWZm6EFHtHeUqLN210yOjarGYhqAVnbA4rVmWoqxp-4hSq-2tfN4KoGelaeZx4jgpYoK3LZZKUduAPP_I-inkQmwfDm6kb0oHuCKm5aqExMo/s400/DSC_0668-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537244807353938866" border="0" /></a>They took there job very very seriously.<br /><br />I hope that you all will go to the Renaissance Festival. We had an extraordinary time, and the girls will be talking about it for a long time. They even asked to write essays about their adventures this weekend. And what kind of homeschool mom would I be if I didn't let them?applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-18645461898266255232010-10-30T23:39:00.003-04:002010-10-30T23:57:21.503-04:00All for One! And one for all!I created the costumes for this year...next year, I might just take the easy way out and head to the store and purchase them...because I kind of went overboard this year. <br /><br />I found yards and yards of gorgeous soft velvety type fabric at a yard sale a couple of months ago for a couple of dollars. And from that....Barbie Three Musketeers was born.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7atlxlEgw75_GWjdr6vW5AoS8xdXOkbAOvWyCo_DF1JClqXKslAhcfqBK4kI0O-Q7HskKX21fhUofMUh7UhkTVHqlW9-KRnCNm4h-uPnLYAnNuv1YLSyKxUwS4J7QYpyOHFdHB8ZAzXRk/s1600/DSC_0471-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7atlxlEgw75_GWjdr6vW5AoS8xdXOkbAOvWyCo_DF1JClqXKslAhcfqBK4kI0O-Q7HskKX21fhUofMUh7UhkTVHqlW9-KRnCNm4h-uPnLYAnNuv1YLSyKxUwS4J7QYpyOHFdHB8ZAzXRk/s400/DSC_0471-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534050751101346178" border="0" /></a>I scoured the internet for directions first, and came across a gem of a blog. <a href="http://sugarnspicecreations.blogspot.com/2010/10/costume-party-musketeers-part-6.html">Brown Paper Packages</a> gave directions for how to easily create each piece of the costume, including the genius creation of Musketeer boots made out of Duck Tape. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoLMYPfBOKkfKP-JFg9Qypoj1rnEGTXyIioxGw7Z7aJOfyJbslEABjuJiugGSxgVTI1kcLyeIo9dIgSfDFB7O02rb_h5-MCu6Ix3dLR6f0GLe18VoQVRQj4FXG-VUD1_n2qXvH2rl46ke/s1600/DSC_0498-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoLMYPfBOKkfKP-JFg9Qypoj1rnEGTXyIioxGw7Z7aJOfyJbslEABjuJiugGSxgVTI1kcLyeIo9dIgSfDFB7O02rb_h5-MCu6Ix3dLR6f0GLe18VoQVRQj4FXG-VUD1_n2qXvH2rl46ke/s400/DSC_0498-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534050747079236834" border="0" /></a>It was a ton of work, but totally worth it. Don't you think?<br /><br />Happy Halloween, y'all!applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-53802098362110770912010-10-26T14:05:00.005-04:002010-10-26T14:55:35.904-04:00And the relatives came.....(part 3, Avery Island)The following day, we piled in the vehicles as we headed over to <a href="http://www.tabasco.com/tabasco_history/avery_island.cfm">Avery Island</a>, home of the Tabasco Factory, and some of the most beautiful landscape that Louisiana has to offer.<br /><br />We took the tour of the Tabasco Factory.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkF4qjDeYY3Xn_noWmo9EWuQXMElS2hbdo5YnTCzRFJVJqjRGoGd564IDSZuhCk7OOScRviyeJ5W11mjbS4WyM1JXYVTKJHUUUC0t46plEH_pgFQtD4j242qq5m6pmEn1BgLX-8y8gRk5/s1600/DSC_0117.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkF4qjDeYY3Xn_noWmo9EWuQXMElS2hbdo5YnTCzRFJVJqjRGoGd564IDSZuhCk7OOScRviyeJ5W11mjbS4WyM1JXYVTKJHUUUC0t46plEH_pgFQtD4j242qq5m6pmEn1BgLX-8y8gRk5/s400/DSC_0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532421985112987986" border="0" /></a>Cleared our sinus' for the next 10 years smelling the stuff as it fermented.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNjQW9ugZzuR6KCPJpVsZrki8GjltSOQmDVpKZJUMMVs7wlV2rH2gm5zPusXyL1FKYJ8fJxywPH8NkDoRSlQQHpktpU1Hv_Ga2fQcyjL-JwZ4Q5KgqwX5-nM9sFAZy0KAb96AUABWXyTW/s1600/DSC_0122.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNjQW9ugZzuR6KCPJpVsZrki8GjltSOQmDVpKZJUMMVs7wlV2rH2gm5zPusXyL1FKYJ8fJxywPH8NkDoRSlQQHpktpU1Hv_Ga2fQcyjL-JwZ4Q5KgqwX5-nM9sFAZy0KAb96AUABWXyTW/s400/DSC_0122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532421990815868978" border="0" /></a>Admired the gorgeous trees on the island....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXhsYkQQEGeb_XPBVZRAHVOlBjUd_2QggEBYBRCJnBucsoTHBFjaw8qdF7uao0oL7-p87vGvajm7p6bWo2aFUQr8eAFEbZMeLYjOmIksF_nlBBboK9yFPTtEu-MsvxzEey17yaNFv_0_3/s1600/DSC_0149.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXhsYkQQEGeb_XPBVZRAHVOlBjUd_2QggEBYBRCJnBucsoTHBFjaw8qdF7uao0oL7-p87vGvajm7p6bWo2aFUQr8eAFEbZMeLYjOmIksF_nlBBboK9yFPTtEu-MsvxzEey17yaNFv_0_3/s400/DSC_0149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532421996148112402" border="0" /></a>We hunted up a few gators....But you won't see us on an episode of Swamp People.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6JctXn3B-AMixho6IqKITwK3Yy3c7q2VcIE71QLSQ_CXnnb5uSqTNttmrONBTX4xwTMUC4n7NutaHD6dbHjhHyTCTHMEKfenhA1qM79OPtZ4FwZikm0A9LspRXZULrKDVhFiIxezQCp8/s1600/DSC_0159.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6JctXn3B-AMixho6IqKITwK3Yy3c7q2VcIE71QLSQ_CXnnb5uSqTNttmrONBTX4xwTMUC4n7NutaHD6dbHjhHyTCTHMEKfenhA1qM79OPtZ4FwZikm0A9LspRXZULrKDVhFiIxezQCp8/s400/DSC_0159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532422984011648610" border="0" /></a>We did some hiking around the island. And just when the children were tired enough....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bFGDD8HYZruU4G5ts3wcM6HtqUP4qyeUlWUjlvf2CqA7KQft-ex6-OVKJ777Y4-6pPAlzn7gyPNJmXcr3x37JXecdLBY367pXVryqTndGaEFnba2Yz7IlQ9__PYmsrXyxSPXaRt5g-C7/s1600/DSC_0180.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bFGDD8HYZruU4G5ts3wcM6HtqUP4qyeUlWUjlvf2CqA7KQft-ex6-OVKJ777Y4-6pPAlzn7gyPNJmXcr3x37JXecdLBY367pXVryqTndGaEFnba2Yz7IlQ9__PYmsrXyxSPXaRt5g-C7/s400/DSC_0180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532423011085846258" border="0" /></a>....we did even more hiking.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKIalERvZ-BPq0a2NbVsaBkCpeEwN_N4HybBcsaZU2HeLTYyBjolkgduHNl2X-YmqERBVZ_L8MSZmCxYBd7wYnbjUo-KFWL22P3L_k-dfd-10h977eMthfr-RmO1LGQQ-r9cX6sA7IH7k9/s1600/DSC_0167.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKIalERvZ-BPq0a2NbVsaBkCpeEwN_N4HybBcsaZU2HeLTYyBjolkgduHNl2X-YmqERBVZ_L8MSZmCxYBd7wYnbjUo-KFWL22P3L_k-dfd-10h977eMthfr-RmO1LGQQ-r9cX6sA7IH7k9/s400/DSC_0167.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532422007553972898" border="0" /></a>The doors to the Buddha Temple were open that day, I had never seen it open.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TEn4MWJbXirGsOKaqQ8VBy7Jf-nQ8dq48WMC4wnSdRAO2SfbIvIj7ylJBgF-jGUXL9FMogQSpcCzxcT1q50XDRE9zs6zdFY_n1UijWGjzWE3fkqGQODKfWi4ZskwKX8AkjDQY4vdofDT/s1600/DSC_0173.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TEn4MWJbXirGsOKaqQ8VBy7Jf-nQ8dq48WMC4wnSdRAO2SfbIvIj7ylJBgF-jGUXL9FMogQSpcCzxcT1q50XDRE9zs6zdFY_n1UijWGjzWE3fkqGQODKfWi4ZskwKX8AkjDQY4vdofDT/s400/DSC_0173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532422011468960082" border="0" /></a><br />Unfortunately, the egrets weren't at the nesting spot as usual. I'm used to seening the hundreds of egrets out on their little dock on the island. But we were told that they had migrated for the season.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-80920955851519463862010-10-25T12:20:00.005-04:002010-10-25T12:52:40.941-04:00And the relatives came.....part 2, The Bell TowerAfter we took the kids to see Mr. Charlie, we took a break for lunch and at McD's, and let the little Monsterlings run around for awhile.<br /><br />Then I took them to see the <a href="http://www.chalstrom.com/brownellpark/">Bell Towers</a>. (pardon the dated link....it's the most current one I could find. The website states that it's been closed since 2004, but I know for a fact that it's wide open and available to the public!) It's a gorgeous little spot that we have been too frequently.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Cr40A9V7Lc9C_Z8VwsAwqEn8njaAQtAo-GKEczEo4oTLTf55ltPwM8XET8angA6QhXMmNMF4Dk-2qWy5rpdOQZTZ10TiH_2BuXnCCLuG1VKQS1M1FA1V5tVpjt1JbetE8jKp8sQMVc4x/s1600/DSC_0080.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Cr40A9V7Lc9C_Z8VwsAwqEn8njaAQtAo-GKEczEo4oTLTf55ltPwM8XET8angA6QhXMmNMF4Dk-2qWy5rpdOQZTZ10TiH_2BuXnCCLuG1VKQS1M1FA1V5tVpjt1JbetE8jKp8sQMVc4x/s400/DSC_0080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532022437068741554" border="0" /></a><br />There is a pretty little walking trail where you can observe the wild birds, see large Cyprus trees growing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZd0dB-7N1h-ET39yo_faOY_ukRAzqLGtHSE-ooSlDywSFrFhCvutFTfQCGNC6Eo-B6DM4LBBfkiEKK0R_9IqZbIkBWXl8o223t383_uv97_TVlJtxJ9cu9UwbWFWmAaldCvJ4lYffWbgC/s1600/DSC_0173-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZd0dB-7N1h-ET39yo_faOY_ukRAzqLGtHSE-ooSlDywSFrFhCvutFTfQCGNC6Eo-B6DM4LBBfkiEKK0R_9IqZbIkBWXl8o223t383_uv97_TVlJtxJ9cu9UwbWFWmAaldCvJ4lYffWbgC/s400/DSC_0173-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532022457678142578" border="0" /></a><br />and play with enormous "man-eating grasshoppers" (at least that is what the Middle Apple calls them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisEGGjMlVk4iMdw8KrvjHfPkEuMWYRkLMJFF4oWy_MKrSciKd3ohFRCr_JS_Zv3V5b1SYCfNWYojhPs042CmDupkyb1L6tHCAy1CKddzx-2MECzBKLmD8UPQDrxn-M4TCr24UhBroltz3/s1600/DSC_0178-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisEGGjMlVk4iMdw8KrvjHfPkEuMWYRkLMJFF4oWy_MKrSciKd3ohFRCr_JS_Zv3V5b1SYCfNWYojhPs042CmDupkyb1L6tHCAy1CKddzx-2MECzBKLmD8UPQDrxn-M4TCr24UhBroltz3/s400/DSC_0178-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532022452004691442" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdePAh8mTEM3i5STCTHWvni1of8cFNbDdKdFL_w03_YtORgW3ezy1EpRjNyY9K86owrNuG_Wv1y5i5khI4ATN-LkfLRG1Sjg7wCiHjp85VJng5GBsZUVyWQPZ0aarbTtQPwCsPR_2zplzU/s1600/DSC_0706.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdePAh8mTEM3i5STCTHWvni1of8cFNbDdKdFL_w03_YtORgW3ezy1EpRjNyY9K86owrNuG_Wv1y5i5khI4ATN-LkfLRG1Sjg7wCiHjp85VJng5GBsZUVyWQPZ0aarbTtQPwCsPR_2zplzU/s400/DSC_0706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532024441802264242" border="0" /></a>I love listening to the bells chiming their welcome to us.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8qq1x04DcSMvQfvI_i5s3tfEMzqP2RWRTJXpdN-CxcXGSF0ls_iH5WNGWWswmG5goXdKlVEuTnX77KQaHcDiBdqLyDSamv3KNPaiYMAxwgFsTLbsKo-Wvm9H5gIyNZneG-_02NU2i5QD/s1600/DSC_0083.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8qq1x04DcSMvQfvI_i5s3tfEMzqP2RWRTJXpdN-CxcXGSF0ls_iH5WNGWWswmG5goXdKlVEuTnX77KQaHcDiBdqLyDSamv3KNPaiYMAxwgFsTLbsKo-Wvm9H5gIyNZneG-_02NU2i5QD/s400/DSC_0083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532022443227732146" border="0" /></a>"playing" the bells.....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHE6YL2YXe3C4K-kln9HReQz6nleAHdHLIOC5X-dxS7POTZv1ldcUmbwuieYcUPtpYFNqeAX_1QoLEip8G1iu0mMo2THJgBOI-chB6_s9C-FvpBz9-LNeHRzIoRRsZX2iTze0BrA97sUq-/s1600/DSC_0189-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHE6YL2YXe3C4K-kln9HReQz6nleAHdHLIOC5X-dxS7POTZv1ldcUmbwuieYcUPtpYFNqeAX_1QoLEip8G1iu0mMo2THJgBOI-chB6_s9C-FvpBz9-LNeHRzIoRRsZX2iTze0BrA97sUq-/s400/DSC_0189-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532027187034339458" border="0" /></a><br />After the Bell Towers, we came home and played Wii, gave the Little Apple a nap, rode bikes,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0SO2BrsqTskY2P4giTw4zg02shQpnzAs-Za9s4g_V92YElJuW9FejvpEj9cWqZnMzvRahSpwI5-M1cV2dznIw9Kx6_M2fI4v2LjF-J7LvU1oQoBwTKF8lpsjdl80SKETQ-vXQNim2w7D/s1600/DSC02473.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0SO2BrsqTskY2P4giTw4zg02shQpnzAs-Za9s4g_V92YElJuW9FejvpEj9cWqZnMzvRahSpwI5-M1cV2dznIw9Kx6_M2fI4v2LjF-J7LvU1oQoBwTKF8lpsjdl80SKETQ-vXQNim2w7D/s400/DSC02473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532027197821318258" border="0" /></a> and roller skated. It was such a fun and FULL day.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-67768292937221969802010-10-25T10:51:00.008-04:002010-10-25T12:04:53.108-04:00And the relatives came.....(part 1) The Mr. CharlieIt's always a special time when relatives come to visit.....I think, (and I believe the rest of the family will agree with this statement) that the worst part about being in the military is that visits with family are just too few and far between.<br /><br />Our honorary guests this weekend were our relatives from MN, Uncle S., Auntie K., and CD Monsterling (their choice nickname for my nephew! I love how it sounds like an awesome Rap Artist name!) , who drove cross country by RV to see us just for the weekend. We felt so special that they would come so far to see us on one of the very few weekends that they have available together as a family.<br /><br />We had a great time, and we showed them some of our favorite places around here in Louisiana. We wish that they could have stayed longer. But without further ado....here are some pics from our adventures.<br /><br />On their first day here, we decided to take them to see what I think is a little known about gem here in Morgan City. <a href="http://www.rigmuseum.com/">The Mr. Charlie Oil Rig</a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hLep_AGzUa5xdqLiAKrpA8FViPZuBwOTDWyKvPlHVV208aD0FtyVVSBYjJvgWfmfLtwQstrin3cBOy_2DZKAzqIsG6mxHGXIb_sHDa5ZBYQsSTQh_kihuW9g_ndGCKnSYw-DPhouR46i/s1600/DSC_0027.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hLep_AGzUa5xdqLiAKrpA8FViPZuBwOTDWyKvPlHVV208aD0FtyVVSBYjJvgWfmfLtwQstrin3cBOy_2DZKAzqIsG6mxHGXIb_sHDa5ZBYQsSTQh_kihuW9g_ndGCKnSYw-DPhouR46i/s400/DSC_0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532002460945268514" border="0" /></a><br />The Mr. Charlie claims to be the only place in the world where the general public can walk aboard an offshore drilling rig. Our tour guide, Virgil, is a great guy, loves kids, and has tremendous knowledge of offshore drilling and environmental aspects that pertain to it. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltsnU2rsFyQ6ExYNfQbyIuhKaPUfcGLkKeYhgkWx5xQ47sjEHkx9cRKnI-HpIpvlALmm6A8pt1lE_Smk-LSKEvWreDjQVzv9ZAY51FguMOZSYEOvAjLtLLNYjfsqb7UZM1SjYUlxQ57tM/s1600/DSC_0043.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltsnU2rsFyQ6ExYNfQbyIuhKaPUfcGLkKeYhgkWx5xQ47sjEHkx9cRKnI-HpIpvlALmm6A8pt1lE_Smk-LSKEvWreDjQVzv9ZAY51FguMOZSYEOvAjLtLLNYjfsqb7UZM1SjYUlxQ57tM/s400/DSC_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532002469232932850" border="0" /></a>Entering the inside quarters of the rig....the kids got to try to open the hatch door.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiyeL46_pEZz9zdtWwhaXLxBQM_VHaAzI0-qd_KDXxud_kOLF4USCNdgPf-4AzynVbByXt7XEkNMwvsWozpd4awhUeckhin_Ac4mUQsauv1EdXxT2bvlTmsMm9Zx-lqse-mdFuQJnvVSE/s1600/DSC_0049.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiyeL46_pEZz9zdtWwhaXLxBQM_VHaAzI0-qd_KDXxud_kOLF4USCNdgPf-4AzynVbByXt7XEkNMwvsWozpd4awhUeckhin_Ac4mUQsauv1EdXxT2bvlTmsMm9Zx-lqse-mdFuQJnvVSE/s400/DSC_0049.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532002483366733842" border="0" /></a>Learning about a jack-up rig in the Rec Room on the rig.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD9AL4mCJoi0LYcmFoOfT_Vk3W-uUNFd6ckJnUsRmbXhG7ioiI5LykjS3nPZQVeIh85UZt3DHV4uAMHMLWKwB90ufHygb_IGmR-mhlP3BezjQBETDCyCk0ehm68Eb1n-dR9HJLeAOTGs2L/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD9AL4mCJoi0LYcmFoOfT_Vk3W-uUNFd6ckJnUsRmbXhG7ioiI5LykjS3nPZQVeIh85UZt3DHV4uAMHMLWKwB90ufHygb_IGmR-mhlP3BezjQBETDCyCk0ehm68Eb1n-dR9HJLeAOTGs2L/s400/DSC_0055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532002493129456018" border="0" /></a><br />Checking out the goodies (and sampling!) that there are to eat on a rig. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__7pwLUKHuNmSLgU7etss7B0LxkJ_ZnC658ClYb_-DKp4rLrCPiJnhFg-8D74AsIuhIEgGFDKCXtmETy7i24uOCpWGersTu-5RktCGk1XYA46CJEY9NG4C1V_R9jOkJHRhEfFurrB_spG/s1600/DSC_0057.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__7pwLUKHuNmSLgU7etss7B0LxkJ_ZnC658ClYb_-DKp4rLrCPiJnhFg-8D74AsIuhIEgGFDKCXtmETy7i24uOCpWGersTu-5RktCGk1XYA46CJEY9NG4C1V_R9jOkJHRhEfFurrB_spG/s400/DSC_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532008797939557170" border="0" /></a>Looking out over our city.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3CRt5RwZn6Y0P1P-sbTviQXBNWfVcOMzqye9TVoSW1GeRA1Lr5YWdKT85RMhI6MDkNshnELdyjh2igdHV98lm9cTM1XvgmPhDZ_8TKrl_gSDV3xK1DCpKvw_FgmUiBI1a4ZSxh97MDYy/s1600/DSC_0059.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3CRt5RwZn6Y0P1P-sbTviQXBNWfVcOMzqye9TVoSW1GeRA1Lr5YWdKT85RMhI6MDkNshnELdyjh2igdHV98lm9cTM1XvgmPhDZ_8TKrl_gSDV3xK1DCpKvw_FgmUiBI1a4ZSxh97MDYy/s400/DSC_0059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532013762279611090" border="0" /></a>Here's a view of the deck where the magic happens.....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6_sAn73k2nnyh_gbcUu9FRP4L0tMKNo5aGt8zF8wk7DU-AE2loUCBQfUCg1nrzxcxdWBYDutTeoeKIsHAY4dBsUtdk6MaCsYjORZDQ26fXEwvwBrIbzPVaUAznRDXASjeK7IKHSiAe-g/s1600/DSC_0134-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6_sAn73k2nnyh_gbcUu9FRP4L0tMKNo5aGt8zF8wk7DU-AE2loUCBQfUCg1nrzxcxdWBYDutTeoeKIsHAY4dBsUtdk6MaCsYjORZDQ26fXEwvwBrIbzPVaUAznRDXASjeK7IKHSiAe-g/s400/DSC_0134-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532014516037692706" border="0" /></a>Practicing with a tripod lift...used to lift people out of vertical hatches.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Cu_QzGmvToo9bxlX-ER8hALcOk_yiJ3TNp5RFJBv41bU1nbI_OQgVUou9oqmKL-mt75_ySJDZ4pf0hzApc3vOpOaHhOTzDP8xr3qKPrxFtawBabVaH46zIFBzBR8xt5XP7s1vFmwnhBe/s1600/DSC_0066.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Cu_QzGmvToo9bxlX-ER8hALcOk_yiJ3TNp5RFJBv41bU1nbI_OQgVUou9oqmKL-mt75_ySJDZ4pf0hzApc3vOpOaHhOTzDP8xr3qKPrxFtawBabVaH46zIFBzBR8xt5XP7s1vFmwnhBe/s400/DSC_0066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532008830427292482" border="0" /></a>As a bonus treat, Virgil grabbed a wrench and opened up a diving bell for the kids to climb in. They thought it was pretty darn cool!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivZuDxWBBzw1P8q-txzc5_Yb2el5uI4mEoFI-gkV38t-hy7utc75WgZlPXaC__Olu7WCdu2unUllQRhFPAUn_d2D8r0247H2rgnLQdFjz66FUQMpQ4wS6mxf7hPGaIRNKA83pbndL8SAUH/s1600/DSC_0151-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivZuDxWBBzw1P8q-txzc5_Yb2el5uI4mEoFI-gkV38t-hy7utc75WgZlPXaC__Olu7WCdu2unUllQRhFPAUn_d2D8r0247H2rgnLQdFjz66FUQMpQ4wS6mxf7hPGaIRNKA83pbndL8SAUH/s400/DSC_0151-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532011325041515090" border="0" /></a>The Middle Apple practicing her swing. (My personal favorite pic of the day. Thanks for manning the camera, Uncle S., my hands were too full of The Little Apple that day!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMWL1enzOdDzYQ3la_5fw5RzH0I-DleXw_loytqJ4LwroooUoX6-2fFW7ppVsq7GMJhA6GW9oBLMEOLbpAgk5TtB2t_JCsB8HNaL0Q1dXcmo9Dv7TugHhgrMtv_rtMG93eQXrkA_SDqtp/s1600/DSC_0074.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMWL1enzOdDzYQ3la_5fw5RzH0I-DleXw_loytqJ4LwroooUoX6-2fFW7ppVsq7GMJhA6GW9oBLMEOLbpAgk5TtB2t_JCsB8HNaL0Q1dXcmo9Dv7TugHhgrMtv_rtMG93eQXrkA_SDqtp/s400/DSC_0074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532008838340002594" border="0" /></a><br />If you haven't visited the Mr. Charlie before, you really should. Every time we go, we learn something new. Ask for Virgil to do your tour. He's awesome.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-83293342685036213392010-10-11T21:26:00.006-04:002010-10-11T23:34:18.109-04:00A Moment I Will Never Forget....Someone recently asked about the title of my blog, so I thought that I would write a little bit about it. My Blog Title, "In Moments Like These" was inspired by a song I heard in college, a reminder that every moment that we have is special and unique, a gift from God to be cherished and treasured and remembered. The second part of the title "living every moment for Christ, no regrets" was inspired by a bumper sticker that I used to have on my sweet, run-down little Ford Escort that was my very first car. That bumper sticker pretty much sums up what I would like to say about my life. I'm sold out for Jesus....and I don't regret it. I probably haven't done the most excellent job of "living <span style="font-style: italic;">EVERY </span>moment" for Him, but I do my best.<br /><br />My husband and I this past weekend, got to experience an unforgettable moment, that came in the form of a concert . A very special concert. For those that know me best, they know that I have been a Michael W. Smith fan since the age of 15. For you math wizards out there....that's 20 years, folks. Dang, I'm getting old....but um....his music isn't. A few months ago, I had the rare treat to share a MWS concert with my mother in her home church. And I didn't think that it could get any better than having front row seats, which is where my mom and I sat that night.<br /><br />Until last Saturday.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8ojhePxukX0oFDAXrSB8LSIuhD1bYgJDnxdJVtw7aPJ4Hve2LbykQQiRrUwaK5T_Q1GZX4D72jJC_IlCMvXJRQ91g2n-Np1IgXrDOTLE5ExNnIgbE0Y6POzsq6dXXSAVtjIF3T0m6une/s1600/IMG_0452.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8ojhePxukX0oFDAXrSB8LSIuhD1bYgJDnxdJVtw7aPJ4Hve2LbykQQiRrUwaK5T_Q1GZX4D72jJC_IlCMvXJRQ91g2n-Np1IgXrDOTLE5ExNnIgbE0Y6POzsq6dXXSAVtjIF3T0m6une/s400/IMG_0452.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526991333369544626" border="0" /></a>Somehow....and I'm still not exactly sure how, we ended up in the pit at the 2010 Make a Difference Tour with MWJ, Toby Mac, Jason Gray, and Third Day at the Cajundome. I remember purchasing the tickets to the show online the day that they went up for sale, and clicked the "Best Available" option within a certain price range (it wasn't the upper end price range either) and paying for the tickets that day. Then the tickets layed on my desk for the next 2 months.<br /><br />The night of the show...we hired a sitter, and having never ever left The Little Apple to be put to bed by someone other than a blood relative, we headed out the door. You can imagine the surprise on my face as we kept moving further and further forward into the Dome, and still not finding our seats. We finally asked someone for help finding our seats. He responded, "The reason you can't find your seats is because you don't have seats. You're in the pit. Here's your bracelets."<br /><br />Um....excuse me? In the pit? Sir....I'm like 35 years old....I really don't think I belong in the pit at a Christian Rock Concert.<br /><br />It was really an awesome concert....it might have even knocked about 10 years off my age. Maybe 20. Because I sure felt like 15 again dancing in the pit. Actually, he performed a song from about that long ago, too.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_E-jdf9XqNOLMYeRlb8xv21f9w79EmVgCIKRrSOTYFUtkeRPRYHEff2bKt63FUaJ6-3q7Zw1eBK-DfsFo7RIociZUKk-jo-9EdItyIAllRPv7dF7kMWU3YAYHcGXZmuFkRqF6pnW50VZQ/s1600/IMG_0516.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_E-jdf9XqNOLMYeRlb8xv21f9w79EmVgCIKRrSOTYFUtkeRPRYHEff2bKt63FUaJ6-3q7Zw1eBK-DfsFo7RIociZUKk-jo-9EdItyIAllRPv7dF7kMWU3YAYHcGXZmuFkRqF6pnW50VZQ/s400/IMG_0516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526994494463240194" border="0" /></a>This guy only had to show up once to our section of the pit......I can't imagine why. But I had to take his picture anyway.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Jbo0yhyBhtcIS1JdkAJNfsLnHreX-EYGrpM5OOVpVaGFNMomtqc66gcAMrRVR9P5nFeWm-bI39NL9_IGNWDx9BXhqzkA-QtQcINqXXcKJpQK4ay-Dz5ieEozNd26f_CY1ydGNRmW8pTs/s1600/IMG_0476.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Jbo0yhyBhtcIS1JdkAJNfsLnHreX-EYGrpM5OOVpVaGFNMomtqc66gcAMrRVR9P5nFeWm-bI39NL9_IGNWDx9BXhqzkA-QtQcINqXXcKJpQK4ay-Dz5ieEozNd26f_CY1ydGNRmW8pTs/s400/IMG_0476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526996842885386114" border="0" /></a>And I got to shake the hand of the guy that wrote and performed the songs that helped me through the darkest and brightest moments of my life.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZuNCPJw9DZKbbxYtkgmmdLrSKJUTmFTk5lTH_xzsDBsv-EMHY-2l8XoeVemB8Z5RyuNvs8Q2BfnrtsRQ6BfcLr2uhM3fEk-x0bzNYU2n2jOkBM2o2TJRKZjI43eP9d3KDnoe7AzbJLys/s1600/IMG_0527.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZuNCPJw9DZKbbxYtkgmmdLrSKJUTmFTk5lTH_xzsDBsv-EMHY-2l8XoeVemB8Z5RyuNvs8Q2BfnrtsRQ6BfcLr2uhM3fEk-x0bzNYU2n2jOkBM2o2TJRKZjI43eP9d3KDnoe7AzbJLys/s400/IMG_0527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526991342003803538" border="0" /></a><br />And it's the Moments Like These that I never ever want to forget.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-85612005541515408872010-09-30T21:07:00.002-04:002010-09-30T21:47:59.086-04:00It's that time again.....Just when I begin to feel at home somewhere, set down my roots, find good friends, and really start to sit back and enjoy my surroundings......<br /><br />This comes.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhqHvu-e4XFv0QT1HXbAH1ftL7yrVPYotuxhGOvxhMQF0GNtJphsf-9P6Q0qfjPyfQzI3xbYU2T_kJXa6_B-P6XJkLQA8KzpieKIOgr-WlSeskixpTuSh1ykntaC2Rp92BP2A6YAd515V/s1600/DSC_0002-1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhqHvu-e4XFv0QT1HXbAH1ftL7yrVPYotuxhGOvxhMQF0GNtJphsf-9P6Q0qfjPyfQzI3xbYU2T_kJXa6_B-P6XJkLQA8KzpieKIOgr-WlSeskixpTuSh1ykntaC2Rp92BP2A6YAd515V/s400/DSC_0002-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522878734389989458" border="0" /></a><br />The List.<br /><br />And somehow, my husband and I are supposed to look at and prioritize this list of locations, and fill out a dream sheet. Yeah, this is how the Coast Guard helps you feel like you are in control of your own destiny....by letting you choose from a list and selecting where you want to go...when in actually, it's the Coast Guard that has the final say so. We <span style="font-weight: bold;">HAVE TO</span> go where they tell us to.<br /><br />It seems so surreal.....3 little sheets of paper representing an entire uprooting of a family, packing up of boxes, and relocating to an entirely different part of the country. It's so difficult to look at a couple of sheets of paper, and know absolutely nothing about a place...you don't know anything about the people, the churches, the climate, the shopping, the homeschool groups, or what the future holds for you....yet you have to look at this list and go "Uh....yeah....that place looks good. Lets go there!" <br /><br />If history repeats itself, we won't get most of these locations on this list. During our last transfer, none of our picks were a match for the detailer, so the detailer issued us a secondary list, and we put this place at the very bottom. Louisiana was the last place on earth that we wanted to go. Yet we ended up here anyhow. It's a good thing that God was looking out for our best interest and He knew exactly where to send us....otherwise, we would have ended up....well, anywhere but here!<br /><br />I wish we could just fast forward to God's selection and just know where we were going. <br /><br />Maybe if I post the list on a dart board and throw darts at it.....applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-86221122701869607892010-09-21T15:41:00.007-04:002010-09-21T16:11:55.473-04:00Inuit carving....Every other week in My Father's World, we explore a new country. We have already studied the United States and Mexico. This week, we are discovering Canada. And as lovely as it would be to just hop in a car and drive to Canada, like we used to do when we lived in Minnesota, that simply cannot happen. So, we are left exploring these places by book and by project.<br /><br />This week's project is from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Global-Art-Activities-Projects-Inventions/dp/087659190X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1285099869&sr=1-1">Global Art</a> and we did Inuit Carvings. The Inuit live in within and near the Arctic, stretching from the northeastern tip of Russia, across Alaska and Northern Canada, to Greenland. The Inuit carve in materials they find in their own environment such as wood, bone, animal teeth, and Ivory. Today, we carved in soap...because, well, I love elephants and wouldn't want to de-tusk one for a homeschool project. So we picked Ivory soap...<br /><br />The Big Apple chose to make a seal.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhux5f3iciiqweXMRYjbWH1QVDPi2D_AnB4CrJD25fXi0SGmQcpF60hiIBooZqQHihrfpTv8tw0Vuj8PvqtoPhFdRF7ojRS9koCA1QS9087LqSM4CxOJfydFfLt3KXfZW_z-iqayCRHckK2/s1600/DSC_0992.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhux5f3iciiqweXMRYjbWH1QVDPi2D_AnB4CrJD25fXi0SGmQcpF60hiIBooZqQHihrfpTv8tw0Vuj8PvqtoPhFdRF7ojRS9koCA1QS9087LqSM4CxOJfydFfLt3KXfZW_z-iqayCRHckK2/s400/DSC_0992.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519459218427521330" border="0" /></a>She drew a picture on her soap with a pencil, took her soap out on the back patio and carefully started carving her piece.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H3UFvHE9JshmEzXikTML8TS4MGZVHHcECcCkPcV5eAH87S6mRZDnQUvg1Z-thEwUChwXBNOp1K3iEoSOIZBGTU9IY3qa8rQYcUb6DdrG2gwiTG0Oak23eubByaFBeCFMYnrJYoeSGUF5/s1600/DSC_0995.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H3UFvHE9JshmEzXikTML8TS4MGZVHHcECcCkPcV5eAH87S6mRZDnQUvg1Z-thEwUChwXBNOp1K3iEoSOIZBGTU9IY3qa8rQYcUb6DdrG2gwiTG0Oak23eubByaFBeCFMYnrJYoeSGUF5/s400/DSC_0995.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519459229594353058" border="0" /></a>It took several tries and several bars of soap to get a feel for how the soap was going to be carved. More than once she mentioned that her soap carving didn't look anything like a seal. But finally, she fashioned something that she was happy with.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ecA-e6ZrbvKNuVtjc7HwPHaTwCzELOED1Y13UYxLD9Pv-lpVn18gXFQSMa35rAQCHBgF5xqRP2vCXeN3wYH6TZI2LCCG8mQuM35CaRf_lEhM11jTES-900Sfn4FJM6bHGOMhuHsdXTnf/s1600/DSC_0997.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ecA-e6ZrbvKNuVtjc7HwPHaTwCzELOED1Y13UYxLD9Pv-lpVn18gXFQSMa35rAQCHBgF5xqRP2vCXeN3wYH6TZI2LCCG8mQuM35CaRf_lEhM11jTES-900Sfn4FJM6bHGOMhuHsdXTnf/s400/DSC_0997.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519459243285667010" border="0" /></a>Then, she used some water so smooth out some of the wrinkled bumpy parts. Then she presented me with the finished product and asked me to blog about it.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrJcvPplC3cs0UpRJ-36POToAJ6UKCk1BgePqroQ-qrT_ubBKkG0f7XU65Ckh06IKZtC39Oz863wkBnHvrNC9LiWx6ru76vd66Eo-jKRK0sYHMj2hCT_eb3x6-IIugXTYWSrLR4RYH6Nf/s1600/DSC_0999.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrJcvPplC3cs0UpRJ-36POToAJ6UKCk1BgePqroQ-qrT_ubBKkG0f7XU65Ckh06IKZtC39Oz863wkBnHvrNC9LiWx6ru76vd66Eo-jKRK0sYHMj2hCT_eb3x6-IIugXTYWSrLR4RYH6Nf/s400/DSC_0999.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519459253332023490" border="0" /></a>Isn't it cute?applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-34958936232063706692010-09-21T12:34:00.005-04:002010-09-21T13:14:20.747-04:00Middle Apple on two wheels.....In another attempt to update everyone with our lives great events, I couldn't possibly leave out this HUGE accomplishment.<br /><br />The Middle Apple has finally abandoned her training wheels and has learned to ride a 2 wheeler.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhZM_xifCTHvrHyOghiyoTAClALK9FA-zHYZFGJCrEmWVxO2ctqFNa4K4e32qK2IktIjJn1B9x0tb9WDJmYtynop6lGwR3s4jfstC5n3Bb7eTJ3Br8dXo9_ywelLKRu4QC-9K6ai_-39q/s1600/DSC_0874.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhZM_xifCTHvrHyOghiyoTAClALK9FA-zHYZFGJCrEmWVxO2ctqFNa4K4e32qK2IktIjJn1B9x0tb9WDJmYtynop6lGwR3s4jfstC5n3Bb7eTJ3Br8dXo9_ywelLKRu4QC-9K6ai_-39q/s400/DSC_0874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519407595290089858" border="0" /></a>Those that know my daughter best, know that this is not just any ordinary task for her. For her whole life, The Middle Apple has struggled with processing issues and multitasking. She will continue to have to struggle with these issues for the rest of her life, actually. The process of riding a bicycle involves so many different components....balance, visual processing, concentration, gross motor, not to mention her total fear of scraped knees and her very literal mind. A friend of hers had made the mistake of telling her that she had better watch out, or her brains would splat all over the street. For The Middle Apple, everything is very black and white.....there is no gray. If you tell her her brains will splat all over the street, she doesn't think you are joking.....she really visualizes her brains scattered all over the road.<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago, my husband arrived home with a new bike for the Big Apple, and remarked to the Middle Apple that she would get a brand new bike as soon as she learned to ride on 2 wheels. That statement was just what she needed to hear to put her fears aside and put a look of determination on her face.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QDXP86n5Dvpavk8PlnV2hlGTVp2-uh866rIecXvr8r0K9e10eDqsp0RSGAMSNmpbGwgsZBWs6R-jyVtdhBv6L4pCHjTLzXax29N_-hOBWvW8L_qSgwnwVR9bn07fzvy3f4whzcx1G9bg/s1600/DSC_0879.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QDXP86n5Dvpavk8PlnV2hlGTVp2-uh866rIecXvr8r0K9e10eDqsp0RSGAMSNmpbGwgsZBWs6R-jyVtdhBv6L4pCHjTLzXax29N_-hOBWvW8L_qSgwnwVR9bn07fzvy3f4whzcx1G9bg/s400/DSC_0879.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519412700203934450" border="0" /></a>She grabbed her bike, drug it out to the curb. I asked her if she wanted help. She said, "Just hold the bike up so I can get on it. Then let go." <br /><br />I did just as she asked. I helped her arrange the pedals, then she got on and pushed off. She made it all the way to the stop sign before she realized that I wasn't holding the bike. And that I wasn't chasing her either. I was too busy standing there wiping the tears out of my eyes. It was indeed, a priceless moment that I had prayed for quite some time. I couldn't be more proud. <br /><br />A few days later, my husband kept true to his promise. He woke The Middle Apple up and told her to get dressed. He told her that just the two of them were going out on a date. First they would go out for a special celebration breakfast, and then he would take her to town to buy that new bike he had promised her. I swear, the child's feet weren't touching the ground as she skipped out of the house holding her Daddy's hand, and wearing whatever clothes came out of the drawer first. <br /><br />She came home with a shiny purple, black, and white bike. And her favorite part....she proudly proclaimed, "Mama! It has a kick stand....and NO TRAINING WHEELS"<br /><br />So proud of my girl.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4272542728325879278.post-85311433728021512982010-09-20T00:00:00.005-04:002010-09-20T00:44:38.377-04:00On the First Day....I can't say that there was a dramatic start to our school year this year. There wasn't anything dramatic about it at all. We had been doing "short school" all summer long, doing a great deal of math and all of our reading. But of course, it wasn't without all of the thrills that come along with homeschooling....."Box Day" happened, and we poured over our new texts and wondered just where our adventures in homeschooling would take us this year. Little did we know that our adventures would take us....Around the World.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Uqp1dbZtBTrRc0h3jTeEmC_hdOQHv4GngnUvHmPAi6kPzyr-LMtspF6q890R69zozwE3g4AJ_R-6OwBbqRT1V4ru9syQr3v2aHY0NK7bb92Fm3XssMQh7Yng3ef4lFNG1PS180XxSCex/s1600/DSC_0796.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Uqp1dbZtBTrRc0h3jTeEmC_hdOQHv4GngnUvHmPAi6kPzyr-LMtspF6q890R69zozwE3g4AJ_R-6OwBbqRT1V4ru9syQr3v2aHY0NK7bb92Fm3XssMQh7Yng3ef4lFNG1PS180XxSCex/s400/DSC_0796.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518841015076539890" border="0" /></a><br />We decided to continue using My Father's World this year, as it incorporates multilevel learning, and I can add or subtract lessons as necessary for my kids. Both of my kids loved it last year. This year, both girls would be moving onto MFW Exploring Countries and Cultures. On thing that I wanted to stress to my children, and one of the main reasons that I homeschool, is the fact that we, Christians, are not the only people on this earth. There are many other cultures of people groups out there that do not think and believe that we do. I believe that My Father's World does an excellent job of exploring those people groups.<br /><br />So I set up our hallway (ahem....Classroom!) accordingly...with big maps, a large calendar on the door, and tweeked some things. Last year, I had one small bucket hung on the wall by each desk to hold pencils, crayons, and markers. I quickly found out that one bucket wasn't going to cut it. I found these great organizing buckets at IKEA, and had my dad install them while he was here. I added an extra white board, so that there would be one over each desk, and a desk lamp for each girl to use....as on overcast days, the sunshine doesn't come pouring into the front door like we like it to.<br /><br />Yes, I know that The Big Apple is in her pajamas in this picture. And she's probably going to kill me in a couple of years when I show her boyfriend what she chose to wear to the First Day of School in the 3rd Grade. One of the reasons I love homeschooling? Every day can be pajama day, if you want to.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsvMx5HK4PtHQMQu5TZSyRNBey-s_uPmSPmtvmQ4_oPXo-rY1Znuw0R8pRmfOcOJBgNeYK424NX-hzj4PrBR9WtakV6MpNclNcoMgAh8-_qmmwMpEL1cOOMDYOL2h3ReIVDv2pnIHtPlv/s1600/DSC_0797.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsvMx5HK4PtHQMQu5TZSyRNBey-s_uPmSPmtvmQ4_oPXo-rY1Znuw0R8pRmfOcOJBgNeYK424NX-hzj4PrBR9WtakV6MpNclNcoMgAh8-_qmmwMpEL1cOOMDYOL2h3ReIVDv2pnIHtPlv/s400/DSC_0797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518842546483884130" border="0" /></a>I also enhanced my reward system for the girls, and it's working out VERY well. For each subject that they do well, and in a timely manner, they are given a sticker for their lesson plan sheet. Each sticker is worth 5 minutes towards any screentime that they choose. 5 additional minutes is granted for chores done without complaint. Screen time includes Wii, a Netflix Movie, and playing Club Penguin on the computer. So far, this system has had the Apples working fairly hard, and asking for extra credit and extra chores as well. Of course, it also means that I have to give up my computer for a while every day. ugh.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHhAmKtYfA6KZ4QNViC99i8ukRmEcCHLEr_7sj8gs9Y1d5w-narSniQBsxy4TzzImJNyStIAWUBOLChKfUFNeWkEHglxDmn618UQXRDvrOA5iZgT7MrM1nCZTXvORR9ilhhSg37zrmVQv_/s1600/DSC_0798.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHhAmKtYfA6KZ4QNViC99i8ukRmEcCHLEr_7sj8gs9Y1d5w-narSniQBsxy4TzzImJNyStIAWUBOLChKfUFNeWkEHglxDmn618UQXRDvrOA5iZgT7MrM1nCZTXvORR9ilhhSg37zrmVQv_/s400/DSC_0798.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518842552059425266" border="0" /></a>We ditched Math U See, and brought in Horizons at each girl's grade level. We are so much happier with Horizons. Gone is the begrudging that used to surround math class. And we are working on such a variety of new things, that we can't help but like it. I am continuously amused and astounded at how quickly the Apples have picked up the concepts that are presented to them.<br /><br />So far, we are enjoying our school year. There are some dry spots in the geography sections of MFW, and we sort of skim those just a bit, and other lessons I have to cut down to what I believe to be age appropriate for my kids. And then, of course, there are those days where school has to be tossed out the window...and learning takes flight outside of the textbook and the classroom. Truly, I believe it's those days my kids are going to remember....the days when mama said "Shut your books and put on your shoes. We need to go outside and breathe air for awhile!" And we do. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTvkTX0PRY3nffbuLOPVisIeQe94xoh_WQxgFKpwyptuqp6Q5HUhGyNfPXc3dMdRfD3mp2Fj9pyOj2ms82BHVTcBe0Bl48xZDbIRXBRojsPGG2FMjM9jPiWNH0yz4RbJUuF2McKIBPiCp/s1600/IMG_0174.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTvkTX0PRY3nffbuLOPVisIeQe94xoh_WQxgFKpwyptuqp6Q5HUhGyNfPXc3dMdRfD3mp2Fj9pyOj2ms82BHVTcBe0Bl48xZDbIRXBRojsPGG2FMjM9jPiWNH0yz4RbJUuF2McKIBPiCp/s400/IMG_0174.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518850680151344402" border="0" /></a>On the third day of school, there were just too many rainbows to chase. And trust me, childhood is much too short to miss a single rainbow. So we chase as many as we can.applesofgoldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04694020296860806705noreply@blogger.com1