<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:18:48.208-07:00</updated><category term='medical'/><category term='hobbies'/><category term='Boston'/><category term='Don'/><category term='travel'/><category term='Romania'/><category term='hiking'/><category term='Leicha'/><category term='opinion'/><category term='Truman'/><category term='Gammy'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='Wine'/><category term='Opinions'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='Grandmother'/><category term='Mount Washington'/><category term='Scotland'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>The Merry-Go-Round</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-1161463623293978415</id><published>2008-04-15T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T14:26:31.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Blog or Not to Blog...</title><content type='html'>I am no longer inspired to write. [How many Blogs ago did I say something about getting bored with hobbies?] This poses a great dilemna for me: to just keep this Blog open and post sporatically, risking loosing the interest of my faithful, but often silent, readers? Or should I just hang it up and call it quits?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost like breaking up from a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first stages of my relationship with this Blog, I was filled with great enthusiasm. I dreamed of endless possibilities and thought up countless ways to keep readers (and myself) interested. I was attentive, writing almost every week. I was witty and insightful (if I must say so myself). I paid attention to the details, labelling my weekly Blog in efforts to keep track of all the best parts. I received positive feedback and great support. I told everyone who would listen of my latest passion and bragged about the hopes that it would lead to something bigger. I was in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the second stage, I wrote less often. Finding the time became more challenging as other interests soon started to attract me. My writing was a bit more careless and I found it difficult to think up clever ways to dress up a topic. My opinions, once engaging and, for the most part,  light-hearted, started to become a bit edgier and sarcastic. Writing became more of a chore and less enjoyable. The responses I got were sporatic, at best. While I still had creative feelings and I yearned for more, the relationship was not as fulfilling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in the final stages, I find myself at a crossroad. Will I be able to regain the heartfelt exuberance I once felt? Will I just end up calling it quits, bitterly disappointed with myself for not sticking it out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There must be 50 ways to leave your Blog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just slip out the back, Jack&lt;br /&gt;Make a new plan, Stan&lt;br /&gt;You don’t need to be coy, Roy&lt;br /&gt;Just get yourself free&lt;br /&gt;Hop on the bus, Gus&lt;br /&gt;You don’t need to discuss much&lt;br /&gt;Just drop off the key, Lee&lt;br /&gt;And get yourself free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-1161463623293978415?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/1161463623293978415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=1161463623293978415' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/1161463623293978415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/1161463623293978415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-blog-or-not-to-blog.html' title='To Blog or Not to Blog...'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-1700239254611065515</id><published>2008-03-22T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T12:30:30.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Resolutions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's at about this time every year that I realize the resolutions I set for myself on January 1 have been broken. I start out with good intentions and firm resolve but ever so slowly, I settle back into old habits and routines. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the past, I have pledged a solemn vow to shed a few pounds, be a better person, volunteer, save more money and stick with my latest hobby. All have gone by the wayside. My excuses have ranged from not having enough time to having a paper cut. It's hard to admit being defeated by weak willpower and laziness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This year, however, things are looking up! I made three resolutions and have struggled to keep them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Read More&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Whether it's People Magazine, the local newspaper or a juicy novel, I have actually been squeezing in some extra time to read. My original goal was to read more novels but I am finding it challenging to select books that can hold my interest. I have managed to read &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-America-Tragedy-Criminalized-Mentally/dp/0786717459/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1206212566&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-America-Tragedy-Criminalized-Mentally/dp/0786717459/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1206212566&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Crazy in America (The Hidden Tragedy of Our Criminalized Mentally Ill)&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Mary Beth Pfeiffer; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tender-Bone-Growing-Up-Table/dp/0767903382/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1206212616&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Tender at the Bone &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Ruth Reichl; and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kabul-Beauty-School-American-Behind/dp/0812976738/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1206212662&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Kabul Beauty School&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Deborah Rodriguez. While I know this is not a staggering number of books, it's a start. I just need to get to Barnes and Noble soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drink More Water:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am notorious for only drinking a large cup of coffee and maybe one glass of Diet Pepsi a day. I can pinch the skin on the back of my hand and it stands up: a sign of dehydration. I just never feel really thirsty and it's challenging to take a water break when dealing with a classroom of teenager hooligans. I got a wake up call recently about the seriousness of not drinking enough when my opthamologist told me my eyes were too dry. I have been doing very well with getting a drink of water whenever I can and always having a bottle nearby. Think I'll get a cold glass of water now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay in Touch With Family and Friends: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This is a challenging one for me but I have been making a strong effort. The biggest obstacle is my intense dislike of talking on the phone. I think all those years of selling TVGuide on the phone ruined me for life. However, in this day and age, e-mail is my favorite method of communication. I am a great fan of sending newsy-updates of life at my household to those I hold nearest and dearest. The only discouraging part is the lack of response. So, if you are one of my regular reader that don't respond to my blog posts or my e-mails, &lt;em&gt;GET WITH IT! &lt;/em&gt;You are putting a damper on my resolution.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, there you have it! It's March 22 and I have stuck with my resolutions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;...let's see if I can make it to June...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-1700239254611065515?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/1700239254611065515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=1700239254611065515' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/1700239254611065515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/1700239254611065515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2008/03/new-years-resolutions.html' title='New Years Resolutions'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-2929211085362472573</id><published>2008-03-08T12:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T13:51:56.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>American Idol Revisited</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R9L8v-mAoyI/AAAAAAAAAKE/3NBRStqPcgs/s1600-h/American+Idol+Logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175476822988596002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R9L8v-mAoyI/AAAAAAAAAKE/3NBRStqPcgs/s200/American+Idol+Logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With only one or two exceptions, I am quite pleased with the selection of the top 12 finalists on American Idol. I am very surprised but very happy that Danny Noriega is gone. I thought for sure the "tweens" would keep him in the game (remember Sanjaya?). Luke had an annoying falsetto voice. I was never crazy about him. Kady Malloy was just a Barbie. I know that the goodbye song is always emotionally charged but she was totally off-key and unprofessional. Good reason to say "Buh-bye." Too bad about Asia'h, though. She proved herself to be a strong, determined and talented performer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all, my original picks from 2/26 were pretty close. I lost Robbie Carrico, Danny and Asia'h. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are my updated predictions:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The first set to go (not in any particular order):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Chikezi:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; I do like this guy. When he goes all soulful and mellow, he's great. Problem is, you have to select from whatever the week's theme is and he isn't always making the right choices. If he can get it together, he may surprise me and move further up the ladder. He has been in the bottom before so that's usually a sign of things to come. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Amanda Overmyer: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;She's great at doing the harder-edge rock stuff. I don't think she's going to bring anything new to her performances. Her lack of popularity has put her in the bottom before and I think she may be one of the first to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Kristy Lee Cook: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I don't know how she got here in the first place. I think the country fans voted her in. I believe her lack of maturity and experience will do her in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Next set to go (again, no particular order):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Jason Castro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;: He's very different with his dreads and soft, dreamy eyes but I don't think he has much in his bag of tricks. He's not terribly powerful and doesn't always make good song choices. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;David Hernandez: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;While I do like him and believe he could be a strong contender, I'm not sure he has enough of a unique style to make him memorable. He can always go back to stripping, I suppose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Ramiele Malubay: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Not American Idol material. It's not just about the talent, which is really too bad because this girl is a powerful singer. She has a terrible sense of style, dressing like a bag lady last week. Her performances don't always shine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Syesha Mercado: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I loved her in the auditions. When she sang through laryngitis, I was blown away. However, she sings old, over-done songs in an old, over-done way. She has the skills but not the understanding of what makes a great performance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Brooke White: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Great talent, lovely personality but she comes off just too "hippy" for this day and age. She's a throw-back and won't get the younger votes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;My top picks:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Carly Smithson:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; Understands how to perform, understands how to pick the right songs to showcase her strengths. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Michael Johns: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The best thing that could happen to him is to &lt;strong&gt;NOT &lt;/strong&gt;win. If he has to conform to what the producers of American Idol choose for him, he may end up like Taylor Hicks or Rueben Studdard (who?). Instead, may he go the way of Chris Daughtry and have lots of hits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;David Cook: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;First of all, let me make it clear: &lt;strong&gt;I hate his hair! &lt;/strong&gt;That said, he has become stronger every week and I think he has a shot at the top 4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;David Archuleta:&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;AND THE WINNER IS....&lt;/strong&gt; This kid won as soon as he stepped onto the stage. He has it all: great maturity, sensitivity, humility, a winning smile and Talent with a capitol T.  Everyone I know says he's the one. He won me over with "Imagine". It would just be a feel-good moment to see him win.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, let's see what happens...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-2929211085362472573?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/2929211085362472573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=2929211085362472573' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2929211085362472573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2929211085362472573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2008/03/american-idol-revisited.html' title='American Idol Revisited'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R9L8v-mAoyI/AAAAAAAAAKE/3NBRStqPcgs/s72-c/American+Idol+Logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-4316775114224544215</id><published>2008-02-26T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T03:59:56.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's That Season Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8lEelIq-SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5RPcamKPenY/s1600-h/American+Idol+Logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172740939166972194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8lEelIq-SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5RPcamKPenY/s200/American+Idol+Logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time for American Idol, my seasonal guilty pleasure! I just love the unscripted drama, the funny moments and the talent. I love to loath the dim-witted Paula Abdul and enjoy Simon's unbridled and brutal honesty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So grab a bowl of popcorn and let me unveil my predictions for this year's contestants. Here's a list of my picks for top 6 male and top 6 female contenders:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SJk3BH8xI/AAAAAAAAAIE/bk8UraQwRs0/s1600-h/david_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171409538465133330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 80px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px" height="122" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SJk3BH8xI/AAAAAAAAAIE/bk8UraQwRs0/s200/david_c.jpg" width="106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;David Cook&lt;/strong&gt;: While somewhat "vanilla," I think he's someone that could appeal to a wide range. He's "worthy", as Simon would say, of being in the top 12 finalists but I doubt that we will see him much beyond that. To see him perform: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=David+Cook&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=David+Cook&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;= &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SLlHBH8yI/AAAAAAAAAIM/HiByht2RajA/s1600-h/robbie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171411741783356194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 81px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" height="104" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SLlHBH8yI/AAAAAAAAAIM/HiByht2RajA/s200/robbie.jpg" width="76" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Robbie Carrico&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(Voted off show 2/28/08.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;With his bad-boy rocker edge, he'll win allot of fans. I think his voice is quite versatile and he may surprise everyone. I don't think he'll finish strong, though and we won't see him in the race to the finish. He's also a professional singer and that may play against him in the eyes of the voters. Watch Robbie at: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Robbie+Carrico&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Robbie+Carrico&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SNZnBH8zI/AAAAAAAAAIU/WV7t3QTmwm4/s1600-h/danny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171413743238116146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 97px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 67px" height="65" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SNZnBH8zI/AAAAAAAAAIU/WV7t3QTmwm4/s200/danny.jpg" width="86" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Danny Noriega&lt;/strong&gt;: Really the least talented of the men in this group but because of the high "tween" girls that vote, I think he'll hang on longer than he deserves. I must say, I'd give anything to have his lips! Here's Danny: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Danny+Noriega&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Danny+Noriega&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SPGXBH80I/AAAAAAAAAIc/gCDORkuYbyw/s1600-h/david+h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171415611548889922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 79px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px" height="98" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SPGXBH80I/AAAAAAAAAIc/gCDORkuYbyw/s200/david+h.jpg" width="71" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;David Hernandez&lt;/strong&gt;: This guy can really sing. Unfortunately, his looks and personality are somewhat forgettable and he may end up leaving early for his lack of charisma. Too bad, I think he's talented. David's performances: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=David+Hernandez&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=David+Hernandez&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;= &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SQunBH81I/AAAAAAAAAIk/l66hiS6n4ao/s1600-h/david_a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171417402550252370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 85px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" height="119" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SQunBH81I/AAAAAAAAAIk/l66hiS6n4ao/s200/david_a.jpg" width="94" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;David Archuleta&lt;/strong&gt;: The 17 year old wonderboy! This kid has it all: warmth, personality, and most of all, talent. David was a "Star Search Junior" winner several years ago. He is very at-ease on stage and has great range, control and power. I only hope that his "Oh, do you really like me. Gosh, golly..." humble routine doesn't wear on some people's nerves like last season's Melinda Doolittle did. He should be one of the top contenders for the title. See David perform: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=david+Archuleta&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=david+Archuleta&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;= &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SR6HBH82I/AAAAAAAAAIs/aRgHJXPYrMk/s1600-h/michael+j.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171418699630375778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="104" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SR6HBH82I/AAAAAAAAAIs/aRgHJXPYrMk/s200/michael+j.jpg" width="84" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Michael Johns&lt;/strong&gt;: This guy is my number one favorite. He has it all: looks, personality and great talent. I loved his "Bohemian Rhapsody". He has to convince allot of people that someone from Australia should be an American Idol, however. Watch Michael: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=michael+johns&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=michael+johns&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the women:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SbJHBH83I/AAAAAAAAAI0/vkBPbyP9qxY/s1600-h/brooke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171428852933063538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 80px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 93px" height="103" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SbJHBH83I/AAAAAAAAAI0/vkBPbyP9qxY/s200/brooke.jpg" width="88" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brooke White&lt;/strong&gt;: A throw-back to the days of earthy-folky, crunchy-granola singers. Her voice is pure but I think her nerves will get the better of her and ruin her chances for holding on very long. For a bit of Brooke: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=brooke+white&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=brooke+white&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8ScwnBH84I/AAAAAAAAAI8/kvIEQzNvpS4/s1600-h/amanda.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171430631049524098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="99" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8ScwnBH84I/AAAAAAAAAI8/kvIEQzNvpS4/s200/amanda.jpg" width="87" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amanda Overmyer&lt;/strong&gt;: The rocker-biker chic nurse with the heart of gold. Very powerful pipes but if she doesn't show more diversity in her style, she will be out sooner than later. I love her energy and courage to wring all the juice out of a song. Watch her in action: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Amanda+Overmyer&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Amanda+Overmyer&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SeJnBH85I/AAAAAAAAAJE/aWAm4dtQp3M/s1600-h/ramiele.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171432160057881490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="95" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SeJnBH85I/AAAAAAAAAJE/aWAm4dtQp3M/s200/ramiele.jpg" width="85" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ramiele Malubay&lt;/strong&gt;: This girl is this season's dark horse. I think she is more talented than others that will last longer. Unfortunately, her charisma-meter is registering "low" and she will be out way before she deserves. See what I mean: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Ramiele+Malubay&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Ramiele+Malubay&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;= &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SgmHBH86I/AAAAAAAAAJM/XAacTJqDNVo/s1600-h/carly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171434848707408802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="98" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SgmHBH86I/AAAAAAAAAJM/XAacTJqDNVo/s200/carly.jpg" width="86" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Carly Smithson: Here we go: another foreign import. This girl's voice is as rich and thick as rice pudding. She has two strong strikes against her: she's NOT American and she has had a record contract in her past. I'd like to see her make it at least to the top 6. Here she is: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Carly+Smithson&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Carly+Smithson&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SiIHBH87I/AAAAAAAAAJU/kbVJe5P9hHo/s1600-h/asiah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171436532334588850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="97" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8SiIHBH87I/AAAAAAAAAJU/kbVJe5P9hHo/s200/asiah.jpg" width="83" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Asia'h Epperson: This is the girl that struggled to get through her audition, singing "How Do I Live" in honor of her dad, who had passed away less than 48 hours before. Courage, dignity, humility and talent, just what America is looking for. See what I mean: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Asia%27h+Epperson&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Asia%27h+Epperson&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8Sjz3BH89I/AAAAAAAAAJk/NI17tl6hEkg/s1600-h/syesha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171438383465493458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="99" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8Sjz3BH89I/AAAAAAAAAJk/NI17tl6hEkg/s200/syesha.jpg" width="82" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Syesha Mercado: Has the strength, determination and talent of a winner. She really impressed me when she could not speak because she had laryngitis, yet she belted out a song that was effortless and powerful. All I can say is "Wow." Listen up: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Syesha+Mercado&amp;amp;search_type"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Syesha+Mercado&amp;amp;search_type&lt;/a&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOW FOR THE REALLY BIG QUESTION:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who do I think will win? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anybody's game. I think that Michael John, David Archuleta, Syesha and Asia'h should be in the final showdown. The girls are very similar in looks and style so they may cancel each other out.&lt;br /&gt;We'll just have to watch the drama unfold, now won't we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;[Note: this BLOG posting is in response to an on-going friendly rivalry. JR: whatever happened to Taylor Hicks? ]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-4316775114224544215?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/4316775114224544215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=4316775114224544215' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/4316775114224544215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/4316775114224544215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-that-season-again.html' title='It&apos;s That Season Again!'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R8lEelIq-SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5RPcamKPenY/s72-c/American+Idol+Logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-5934055175363171190</id><published>2008-02-02T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T11:32:35.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Being Sick</title><content type='html'>There's nothing worse than being sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I suffered with a cold. The truth is, this cold started at Christmas as a nagging tickle at the back of my throat that just wouldn't go away. I coughed. I sniffled. I made gurgling sounds. I even had larengitis for a day. I tried to will it away. Nothing would move this tickle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I decided to tackle it with gusto. I bought a nasal spray. I bought cough drops. I bought Nyquil. The clerks at &lt;a href="http://www.cvs.com/CVSApp/cvs/gateway/cvsmain"&gt;CVS&lt;/a&gt; know me by first name and thank me for providing them with job security.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny thing happened when I began my attack. I got worse. The tiny, nagging tickle became a sloppy mess of runny nose, watery eyes and a real cough that still didn't move anything. I got a sinus headache and my body became a limp noodle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and then, I did the one thing that I rarely do: I took a day off from work. To me, taking a day off is like surrendering. I hate to cave in and admit that I need to rest but it did the trick and I am on the road to recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke to the familiar sounds of hacking and coughing. Great. Now my husband has my cold. If I were you, I'd buy some stock in CVS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some great links if you are suffering a cold:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.webmd.com/cold-and-flu/9-tips-to-treat-colds-and-flu-the-natural-way"&gt;http://www.webmd.com/cold-and-flu/9-tips-to-treat-colds-and-flu-the-natural-way&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mothernature.com/Library/Bookshelf/Books/47/33.cfm"&gt;http://www.mothernature.com/Library/Bookshelf/Books/47/33.cfm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-5934055175363171190?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/5934055175363171190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=5934055175363171190' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5934055175363171190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5934055175363171190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-being-sick.html' title='On Being Sick'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-5719147141372834209</id><published>2008-01-18T15:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T10:34:59.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Yoga</title><content type='html'>I love to exercise. The feeling of being physically fit, sweating, pushing myself to the limits. It's all a bit of a rush to me. I benefit both physically and mentally from a regular fitness regimen. I love the feeling of being charged with energy. As my muscles grow stronger and leaner, I become more confident in how I look and feel. When I am following an instructor, my mind is fully concentrating on keeping to the beat of the music, my form and pushing my body to the limits of endurance. I am a force to be reckoned with.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBXLtJ0HI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ddV3bItUNcc/s1600-h/Yoga+class.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157608233548501106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBXLtJ0HI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ddV3bItUNcc/s320/Yoga+class.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recently I was talked into taking a yoga class. I have taken yoga classes in the past with no success. However, I like to think that I am open-minded and was assured that I would enjoy the class and the instructor. So, I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where do I begin in describing the torture I went through during this class?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, there was the peaceful and relaxing environment the instructor tried to create. He dimmed the lights to the studio, had everyone take their sneakers off, and proceeded to fill the room with the most god-awful music I have ever heard. There was soft instrumentals (which was nice by itself) with someone singing (I use that term lightly) in another language. It sounded like a cat yodelling. I found myself trying to figure out what language the song was in and questioning why the vocals were necessary at all. My ears felt like they were going to bleed and my mind was tense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, I said, keep an open mind and move on. After all, the benefits of yoga has been tauted for centuries. Who was I to question? Just relax and go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next the instructor began to direct us into poses, his voice was soft and calm, making it difficult to hear him with the poor cat howling away. I squinted my eyes in the darkened room to see what I was supposed to be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started with simply standing and breathing. Hmmm, I thought, I can do this waiting at the checkout. I know how to stand and breathe. Why is the instructor making such a big deal about that and how is this going to get my body in shape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After what seemed like forever, the instructor began to direct the class to several different stretches, telling us to focus on our breathing. Breathing, yeah, got it. Inhale. Exhale. I began to think about the idiot that cut me off on the drive to the studio. The instructor's voice began to irritate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBlLtJ0II/AAAAAAAAAHY/pJI67OiJpME/s1600-h/Yoga+twist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157608474066669698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBlLtJ0II/AAAAAAAAAHY/pJI67OiJpME/s320/Yoga+twist.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next series of poses can only be described as pretzel-ish. "Sit, legs extended. Bring your right leg over your left leg, bending your right knee and placing your right foot on the floor." Right. Left. Right. Right. I squint around to try and follow another student. OK, I think I got it. "Now twist your body to the right, placing your left elbow on the right side of the right knee." Whoah. Slow down now. That's right, right left right. I look around. No. Try again. Left, right, right, right. Wrong. "Now place your right hand on the floor and look over your right shoulder."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around. I began chuckle. This was not going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"And now we will begin our final relaxation." Great. Anyone who knows me also knows that I am not the relaxing type. But, I am going to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I lay on the floor and stretch out my body. The instructor continues to remind us to breathe, droning on in his soft, whimpy way about inhaling and exhaling, breathing into the core, blah, blah, blah... I find myself hyperventillating. Soon I am focusing on resisting running out of the room, screaming, "Shut up! Shut up!" &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBvrtJ0JI/AAAAAAAAAHg/OTUQpIllVF8/s1600-h/ref-munsch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157608654455296146" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="195" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBvrtJ0JI/AAAAAAAAAHg/OTUQpIllVF8/s320/ref-munsch.jpg" width="129" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not a moment too soon, the instructor bows and says "Namaste" and it is all over. I look around. Everyone else seems to have a trance-like expression and they are moving very slowly. I, on the other hand, have the look of a crazed-woman. I rush to the door, pushing the zombie-people out of my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was I thinking?! Others may benefit from a quieter mind and body. I need energy and stress to feel alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I walked in the door, my husband took one look at me, and said, "I guess you won't be doing yoga again." I guess he's right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-5719147141372834209?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/5719147141372834209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=5719147141372834209' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5719147141372834209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5719147141372834209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-hate-yoga.html' title='I Hate Yoga'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R5OBXLtJ0HI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ddV3bItUNcc/s72-c/Yoga+class.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-2346075964182619443</id><published>2007-12-29T05:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T12:24:59.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2007 in Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Happy New Year, everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;At the end of every year I try to look back to the previous 12 months and review the good and bad. So here's a rundown of the year for me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JANUARY:&lt;/strong&gt; Don discovered a lesion inside his mouth. He had it biopsied and discovered it was cancer. Not the best news to get at the very beginning of the year. I remember feeling totally shattered and wondering if Don would ever be able to enjoy good health and we could have some sense of normalcy to our lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FEBRUARY: &lt;/strong&gt;Adam and Beth got married. The wedding was a very casual affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3Za47tJz_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MQDTP_WPcrY/s1600-h/Reading+Vows_edited-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149403158090993650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 107px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px" height="205" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3Za47tJz_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MQDTP_WPcrY/s400/Reading+Vows_edited-1.jpg" width="154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt; and Adam and Beth were very happy. After all the struggles that Adam had been through, I was hopeful that this would be a positive new chapter in his life. **Don had surgery on his mouth. While we made the difficult and risky decision to opt for a less-invasive procedure, it was still very involved. Don needed about 6 weeks to recover, during which he had to endure a loathsome feeding tube and great discomfort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MARCH: &lt;/strong&gt;This was a relatively quiet month. After 5 months of dieting, I reached my Weight Watchers goal! I also began training as a fitness instructor at an aerobic studio. I had a sense of accomplishment and pride in my fitness level.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3ascrtJ0FI/AAAAAAAAAHA/XDST5FJloGI/s1600-h/Legend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149492832713166930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="110" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3ascrtJ0FI/AAAAAAAAAHA/XDST5FJloGI/s200/Legend.jpg" width="151" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;APRIL: &lt;/strong&gt;After nearly cancelling this trip due to Don's prolonged healing process, we went on our first cruise. It was so much fun and very relaxing: just what we needed! We stopped in Cozumel, Belize and Costa Maya (had to skip Grand Cayman due to dangerous waves).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MAY: &lt;/strong&gt;Don bumps his leg, resulting in a gash that required 10 stitches. Because of his suppressed immune system, the wound became terribly infected and there was some talk about surgery. This freak accident took about 6 weeks to heal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;JUNE: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3aoLrtJ0BI/AAAAAAAAAGg/ascCJ1zsuNA/s1600-h/IMG_0162.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149488142608879634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 104px" height="78" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3aoLrtJ0BI/AAAAAAAAAGg/ascCJ1zsuNA/s320/IMG_0162.jpg" width="162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Leiacha was born about 7 weeks early but healthy. I drove down while Beth was in labor but missed the actually delivery by 90 minutes. I was a "Gammy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JULY: &lt;/strong&gt;I did a shoe-string budget kitchen make-over. The cabinets, counter-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3aoc7tJ0CI/AAAAAAAAAGo/2XfcI4lq3zY/s1600-h/Full+View.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149488438961623074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px" height="114" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3aoc7tJ0CI/AAAAAAAAAGo/2XfcI4lq3zY/s320/Full+View.jpg" width="219" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;tops and tiles all got painted. We added handles to the cabinets and new lighting. Then we purchased a new stainless steel range and replaced the dishwasher door with a new stainless steel one. For less than $1600 I got a kitchen that looks like new!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;AUGUST: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3ao1btJ0DI/AAAAAAAAAGw/EXbHtf52Xh8/s1600-h/We+made+it2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149488859868418098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3ao1btJ0DI/AAAAAAAAAGw/EXbHtf52Xh8/s200/We+made+it2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;I climbed Mt. Washington with some friends. The hike was difficult but greatly rewarding. This was the third time I had done this and each time it became more challenging. I vowed never to attempt this climb again. We'll see. ***Don and I went on vacation. We spent time in New Paltz/wine country New York. We stayed at a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.moondanceridge.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;wonderful B&amp;amp;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt; and travelled to numerous wineries, sampling all the way. Then we travelled down to Adam and Beth's to spend time with them and Leiacha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SEPTEMBER: &lt;/strong&gt;Back to school! I was thrilled to be placed with the same students I had the year before.***Barbara and Campbell, our friends from Scotland, came to visit. We had a great time and I am hoping to visit them in the summer.***Leiacha came up from PA with her grandfather and we had her with us for a couple of days. It's great being a Grandmother!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OCTOBER:&lt;/strong&gt; Don and I quietly celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. Don &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3asxbtJ0GI/AAAAAAAAAHI/vRos-E5njpE/s1600-h/Formal+Night+Linda+and+Don.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149493189195452514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 93px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" height="149" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3asxbtJ0GI/AAAAAAAAAHI/vRos-E5njpE/s200/Formal+Night+Linda+and+Don.jpg" width="113" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;surprised me by designing custom-made postage stamps in honor of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3apoLtJ0EI/AAAAAAAAAG4/QYYDOKw4vx0/s1600-h/MAIL0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;occasion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOVEMBER: &lt;/strong&gt;Just a quiet month of giving thanks. We participated in throwing a surprise 80th birthday party for Don's dad. It's hard for me to see my father-in-law as 80. I have known him for 38 years and love him like my own dad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DECEMBER:&lt;/strong&gt; This year's Christmas present is a vacation to New Mexico in April! We are hoping to look at real estate in hopes of liking the area so much, we leave the snow and cold of MA and move within the next 1-3 years. ***I got several pieces of great news. One of my dearest friends has a lump in her breast but it is not breast cancer. What a great relief! Makes you realize just how valuable your health and your friends are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;So, that's it. Nothing too earth-shattering. Sounds like allot of tough times with Don's health impacting our lives but this is something we try to live with as best we can. I think the joys in our lives, the happy times and fun far outweighs the difficult times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Wishing you a happy, healthy 2008!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-2346075964182619443?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/2346075964182619443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=2346075964182619443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2346075964182619443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2346075964182619443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/12/2007-in-review.html' title='2007 in Review'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R3Za47tJz_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MQDTP_WPcrY/s72-c/Reading+Vows_edited-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-7743191603893926974</id><published>2007-12-22T03:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T10:53:22.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I just wanted to take some time and share a Christmas story with you. In the chaos of the season, sometimes we forget...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I work at a school for emotionally disabled children. These kids are damaged beyond belief by genetics and circumstances, many from unspeakable abuses at the hands of those that they love and trust the most. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I had an encounter with one of our younger kids yesterday that brought tears to my eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was recently revealed that this child has been repeatedly sexually abused by someone in his household. He's been having great difficulty at school lately, erupting in rages and then collapsing in heart-wrenching sobs. I approached the boy to offer him a "Merry Christmas" greeting. His eyes fixed on the cheap, loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R21buLtJz8I/AAAAAAAAAF4/oqxUNEyIn24/s1600-h/jingle+bells.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146870798128631746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R21buLtJz8I/AAAAAAAAAF4/oqxUNEyIn24/s320/jingle+bells.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; jingle bell I had dangling from my neck. In an almost inaudible voice, I heard him say, "I used to have a bell like that and I wore it every year. It's all rusted now." His eyes dropped to his lap and a sad look clouded over him. I slowly removed the bell and placed it over his head and around his neck. The boy gently cradled the bell in his hands and said softly, "It was just like this one." Not understanding that I had given him the bell, I said, "You can keep it." His eyes lifted to meet my gaze and a look of disbelief and amazement swept over his face. "I can keep it? It's mine?" I smiled and assured him that he could keep it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Seeing this child's face light up over such a simple gift was overwhelming for me and I had to leave the room. I can only hope that this little Christmas bell rings for him for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Merry Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146871124546146274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="137" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R21cBLtJz-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/zhzQumk1EPo/s400/peace.jpg" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R21byLtJz9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/y-m0Rce1ohc/s1600-h/peace.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-7743191603893926974?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/7743191603893926974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=7743191603893926974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/7743191603893926974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/7743191603893926974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays!'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R21buLtJz8I/AAAAAAAAAF4/oqxUNEyIn24/s72-c/jingle+bells.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-865516555677861613</id><published>2007-12-01T04:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T05:28:55.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Crunch Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KwmwRcLcI/AAAAAAAAAFw/dM8YPLparjU/s1600-R/Kitchen-Plates.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It's that time of year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ev&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KwMQRcLZI/AAAAAAAAAFY/EY50Gjlo_Fo/s1600-R/Mantel.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139363849356193170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KwMQRcLZI/AAAAAAAAAFY/9r_l-41Dy2M/s200/Mantel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;ery Christmas I find that I cannot enjoy the holiday unless I put out all the little items that recall memories of Christmas' past. While this may sound like a sweet and sentimental tradition, it has become a major holiday event in my home, one that harks headaches, frustrations and numerous runs to Home Depot to pick up lights, extension cords and duct tape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This one-day marathon event begins at the crack of dawn (I cannot stay in bed as my mind wakes with the thoughts of all the work I need to get done). It ends when I have put up the last ornament and turned on every window candle in the house OR when I collapse from sheer exhaustion, whichever comes first. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KjcARcLYI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/gue3eYnI_nI/s1600-R/Bathroom-wall.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139349826287971714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KjcARcLYI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/vboK_GSM3Cw/s200/Bathroom-wall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The evening before "the big event," I have a wild panic that sweeps over me. Visions of broken bulbs, tangled garland and finding where I put the timer for the spotlight dance through my head, making sleep difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I will begin the day cleaning the house. I refuse to put up the decorations until every last dust bunny has surrendered. I vacuum, dust, wash and polish. ...and then decorating begins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I'll drag boxes up and down the stairs for hours, carefully unpacking and placing items all over the house. Then I'll pack all the displaced items and haul them back down the stairs. This will all be accomplished with the precision and focus of a madwoman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KwVARcLaI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uycax3A2daM/s1600-R/Diningroom-Table.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139363999680048546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KwVARcLaI/AAAAAAAAAFg/8USNx5ukyAM/s200/Diningroom-Table.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I obsess over the smallest details, wondering if that snowman would look better here, or there. Eventually, I carefully place each item in the exact same spot it was in the previous year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;By the time all this is over, I look and feel like a woman who has been trekking through the jungle: totally exhausted, dripping in sweat, hair flying. Not a pretty picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;What is wrong with me! Every Christmas I pledge to myself that this will not happen. When Christmas is over, I gently pack away all my beloved holiday treasures, vowing that I am saying goodbye for the last time. I always assure myself that NEXT year, I will minimize the decorating and keep everything simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;But when all is said and done, Christmas just isn't the same without those small reminders of holidays past. Surrounded by every Christmas I have known and comforted by the familiar, I am filled with warmth. It's all worth it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-865516555677861613?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/865516555677861613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=865516555677861613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/865516555677861613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/865516555677861613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-crunch-time.html' title='Holiday Crunch Time'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/R1KwMQRcLZI/AAAAAAAAAFY/9r_l-41Dy2M/s72-c/Mantel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-8587240348305265390</id><published>2007-11-25T03:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T04:36:02.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remote Control?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A few months ago, I allowed my husband to convince me that we needed to switch cable, Internet and telephone providers to Verizon. Our neighborhood had recently gotten FIOS installed and the financial savings and increased speed in getting Internet information was an incentive that could not be refused. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just when I had gotten the hang of the Comcast remote for the TV, I now found myself with a brand new remote and set of problems to deal with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The new remote control for my cable television connection has 50 different buttons. Other than the channel selection buttons (numbers and up/down arrows) and the volume control, I haven't a clue what any of the others are for. Somehow I can manage to get into the "menu" screen, which allows me to select from the "On Demand" offerings. I couldn't tell you exactly how I stumble upon this feature, it's like an unexpected gift when I get it right. The rest is a complete mystery. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The installer assured me that this remote would be a piece of cake to use. He demonstrated by flipping around from channel to channel and raved on about the incredible features I now had that would provide me with viewing pleasure I never would have imagined. I found myself just nodding up and down like a bobblehead. His voice began to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher: "Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah..." I knew then that I was in over my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There are buttons on this remote that I cannot use because we do not have HDTV (Let's not even go there). There are buttons on the remote that I cannot use because the service has not been activated in my area. There are buttons that cannot be used because they are for features that are being developed. Then there are the buttons labelled "Aspect," and "PIP" which I know for a fact that I will never use.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After I have managed to actually turn the TV on with the cable activated, I now have to figure out what number to punch in to get the station I want. All my channel numbers have changed. Food Network (on the rare occasion I want to see it) used to be 27, it's now 144. Bravo was 50, now it's 165. I have a channel directory provided by Verizon. It lists the nearly 800 stations that I could have access to. By the time I locate the station on the guide and figure out how to tune in, the program is over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There have been times when I have gotten up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. In the past, I can turn on the TV and it will provide me with a comforting "white noise" that helps me fall asleep. Recently, I awoke, stumbled down to the couch and turned on the TV. I got a blank screen. Try as I might, I could not get a picture. I pushed a button here, a button there. Nothing. I tried pushing several buttons at once. Nothing. I tried actually reading the 50 page manual. No answers. Finally, I saw it: the "Verizon Hotline" phone number. At 4 o'clock in the morning, I found myself answering "Yes" and "No" questions to an automated voice (very pleasant, I might add). "She" talked me through and with one push of a button, a program appeared on the screen and I had lift-off! Only now I was wide awake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;The remote for the DVD/VCR sysyem has 47 buttons and the stereo system has 42. Once I figure all this out, I'll write a book &lt;strong&gt;"Remote Controls for Dummies".&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Who actually needs 800 channels anyway? Even with that multitude of choices, we end up watching repeats of "Law and Order" because "There's nothing on."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-8587240348305265390?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/8587240348305265390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=8587240348305265390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/8587240348305265390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/8587240348305265390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/11/few-months-ago-i-allowed-my-husband-to.html' title='Remote Control?'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-5200204210671829191</id><published>2007-11-17T03:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T09:13:47.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Did Thanksgiving Go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Here it is, the weekend before Thanksgiving. I can't believe it's here. Maybe that's because all the TV ads and stores are&lt;strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;screaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; at us to begin our Christmas shopping. Where did Thanksgiving go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I suppose the retail industry has the need to boost sales with early-shopping specials. That's all well and good. However, I think it's taking it WAY too far when I hear Christmas carols while I'm shopping for Halloween decorations. Why can't they wait until after Thanksgiving? We'll still have the same number of people to buy gifts for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It evokes some of the fondest memories of my childhood: the smell of turkey roasting all day; the anticipation of taking that first bite of delicious, juicy turkey; sitting at the "kids table"; the hot-muggy feeling in the kitchen mingled with the hustle and bustle of activity; the sounds of family members talking and laughing; arguing over the prized legs; pulling on the wishbone until it snapped and a "winner" declared, secure in the knowledge that their wish would come true; leftovers; the satisfying feeling of a full belly and heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Thanksgiving, for me, has always meant a time to enjoy the simpler pleasures of good food, loving family and friends. It's a holiday that comes from the heart and nurtures the soul. I always feel connected to a larger force, that I am not alone in this world and thankful for all the blessings of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving to you all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-5200204210671829191?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/5200204210671829191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=5200204210671829191' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5200204210671829191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5200204210671829191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/11/where-did-thanksgiving-go.html' title='Where Did Thanksgiving Go?'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-6258310411506233977</id><published>2007-11-10T03:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T08:08:00.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am a junkie. My drug of choice: pop culture. I love it, crave it and find myself lost and incomplete without it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Let's begin with television. I hate to admit it but my TV is on almost all the time. When guests come over, I try to hide this addiction, keeping it off and silent while I engage in pleasant conversation. No sooner have the guests driven away and it's back on. I need my fix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My viewing choices do not stress my intellect. While I do enjoy the occasional documentary and will watch the news, my real preference is mindless reality TV. I am not proud of this. This list includes: Wife Swap, Intervention( some irony there, hey?), Hell's Kitchen, Top Chef, Project Runway, The Amazing Race, and&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXXNQfPBfI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2J5ZULqaTQI/s1600-h/Weeds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131243973222794738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXXNQfPBfI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2J5ZULqaTQI/s200/Weeds.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXVPAfPBeI/AAAAAAAAAE4/Lnopg38_Gdo/s1600-h/Weeds.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;American Idol. I just love that ordinary people can do extraordinary things. My favorite shows in the "Drama" or "Comedy" genres include Weeds (is there a trend here?), Californication (such a seedy show), House, Law and Order and Heros. Pure fantasy entertainment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXTYAfPBcI/AAAAAAAAAEo/uk7x6RBDXhY/s1600-h/People+Magazine.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131239759859877314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXTYAfPBcI/AAAAAAAAAEo/uk7x6RBDXhY/s200/People+Magazine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I will glance at a daily newspaper and flip through the local newspaper but my greatest source of news is &lt;a href="http://www.people.com/people"&gt;People Magazine&lt;/a&gt;. I run to my mailbox every Friday, heart beating with anticipation. It's upsetting if I open my mailbox and it's not there. For a moment, I contemplate running out to make a buy instead of waiting patiently for my next weekly delivery. I read it from cover to cover and when I am finished, I begin to crave the arrival of next issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;No talk-about-issues radio for me. I listen to &lt;a href="http://www.kiss108.com/main.html"&gt;KISS108fm&lt;/a&gt;, a Boston radio station that plays all the current music from rap to rock to country. The &lt;a href="http://www.kiss108.com/main.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131239875823994322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="44" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXTewfPBdI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Mrxb-O-crm0/s200/Kiss108.jpg" width="97" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;morning show features conversations about celebrities, music and gossip. It is like getting a jolt of caffeine in the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There is something slightly seedy and shameful in enjoying these guilty pleasures. I'm on the edge of being labelled "white trash." But I do have my standards. I'll know I've hit rock bottom when I purchase those trashy newspapers (I DO glance at them while waiting in line and hope no one is watching me) or watch Jerry Springer every day (when I am home sick and need some cheering up, I tune in: seeing people more pathetic than myself makes me feel so much better.). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am sure that I probably need rehab but as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3188104789114785605&amp;amp;q=amy+whitehouse+and+rehab&amp;amp;total=1430&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;num=10&amp;amp;so=0&amp;amp;type=search&amp;amp;plindex=0"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Amy Winehouse would say, "No, No, No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-6258310411506233977?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/6258310411506233977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=6258310411506233977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/6258310411506233977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/6258310411506233977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/11/confession.html' title='Confession'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RzXXNQfPBfI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2J5ZULqaTQI/s72-c/Weeds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-1925401413633156291</id><published>2007-11-03T06:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T08:50:08.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to Eat</title><content type='html'>I love to eat. I don't love to cook. Consequently, we eat out at least once a week. [Note: this used to be more often before Weight Watchers entered my life.] Here are a few of my favorite places. Please feel free to add your own comments and suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stonehedgeinnandspa.com/leftbank.htm"&gt;The Left Bank&lt;/a&gt;, formerly Silks at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Stonehedge&lt;/span&gt; Inn in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tyngsboro&lt;/span&gt;. This is our all-time, dress-up-and-be-elegant, special occasion place. The food is exquisite and service is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;impeccable&lt;/span&gt;. They have the largest wine selection in New England, if not the US. Prices are very high but save up and you will not be disappointed. They also have a Sunday brunch that is very good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Capellini's&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tewksbury&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Methuen&lt;/span&gt;. Good Italian, reasonable prices. Go during the week as there will be a wait on weekends.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nakedfish.com/home.html"&gt;Naked Fish&lt;/a&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Billerica&lt;/span&gt; (actually on the Burlington line). Varied menu highlighting fresh fish. LOVE the tuna &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sashimi&lt;/span&gt; appetizer. Best chocolate martini around. They will take reservations (a HUGE plus on Saturday nights). Prices are moderate.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.greatwallbedford.com/"&gt;Great Wall&lt;/a&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt;, MA. Chinese food. Order from the menu or choose the large, reasonably priced buffet. Service is very good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.indiapalacenh.com/"&gt;India Palace &lt;/a&gt;in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Chelmsford&lt;/span&gt;. Fast, friendly service. Indian food cooked by Indians. You can specify "mild" or "hot". The real deal at very good prices. (Thanks, "MC")&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fishbonesofchelmsford.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Fishbones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Chelmsford&lt;/span&gt; (center of town). I like this place better than Legal Seafood. Fresh, perfectly-cooked fish at moderate prices. The atmosphere is a bit noisy and the service not quite as sharp as I like it but the quality of the food more than makes up for it. (Another "MC" recommendation!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shortysmex.com/"&gt;Shorty's&lt;/a&gt; for Mexican. I know it's a chain but there aren't too many Mexican places to choose from. They have a large menu with good prices. It borders on "utility food" but is always consistent and will do well in a pinch.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thecman.com/"&gt;The Common Man&lt;/a&gt;. There are several but I've been to the one in Concord, NH (just off the highway). The menu has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;allot&lt;/span&gt; of variety and the prices are good. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.skipjacks.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Skipjack's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; several locations, including Boston. Another seafood place. Prices are steeper but the quality is great. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.michaeltimothys.com/"&gt;Michael Timothy's&lt;/a&gt; in Nashua. We went there for the first time for our anniversary last week. The service was excellent and we had a wonderful meal. The menu selection is small with weekly chef specials. Prices were high. We weren't crazy about the loud atmosphere and there is no parking. We'll go back to enjoy the jazz in the lounge on a Saturday night.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;For chains we like &lt;a href="http://www.outback.com/"&gt;Outback&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.longhornsteakhouse.com/splash.asp"&gt;Longhorn&lt;/a&gt;. For Road grub on the highway, Burger King over McDonald's.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyone else with favorites to add?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-1925401413633156291?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/1925401413633156291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=1925401413633156291' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/1925401413633156291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/1925401413633156291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/11/where-to-eat.html' title='Where to Eat'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-2908390977246159102</id><published>2007-10-25T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T09:22:14.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Honor of Our Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RyNjfJJhhDI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/hbeccbvNYoc/s1600-h/wedding.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126050187560715314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RyNjfJJhhDI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/hbeccbvNYoc/s320/wedding.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Today Don and I celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. This year is particularly significant. We faced a couple of potentially life-threatening medical issues that could have prevented us from reaching this milestone. It has made each moment precious and the possibility of not seeing another anniversary very real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's hard to believe that we have been together for over 35 years. It seems like just yesterday that I was fresh out of high school and eager to begin a new adult life. It was so exciting to see all the possibilities of a life together laid out before us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As the years passed, we struggled together to face some difficult, life-changing events: confronting the heartbreak of our infertility and the joy of adopting Kate and Adam, comforting each other in shattering losses of loved ones, seeking normalcy despite some chaotic times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Others may have crumpled and given up. We are champions. We faced each trial with strength and determination. When one of us felt weak and tired, the other held up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Our family has never been big on celebrating milestones. Birthdays come and go with cakes and gifts. Beyond that, not much of a fuss. The same with anniversaries. While other families may celebrate with huge gatherings to honor these events, we usually go out for a quiet dinner at one of our favorite places. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This year feels different, however. I want to shout it from the rooftops: "WE MADE IT!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As we share our traditional intimate dinner tonight, I will once again gaze into&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RyNkr5JhhEI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oXkMm6hjQIc/s1600-h/Golden+Fleece+Dinner+Linda+and+Don.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126051506115675202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="246" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RyNkr5JhhEI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oXkMm6hjQIc/s320/Golden+Fleece+Dinner+Linda+and+Don.jpg" width="262" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the eyes of the 21 year old boy that I married. I will see the possibilities of a life laid out before us and imagine us growing older together.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-2908390977246159102?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/2908390977246159102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=2908390977246159102' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2908390977246159102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2908390977246159102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/10/in-honor-of-our-anniversary.html' title='In Honor of Our Anniversary'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RyNjfJJhhDI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/hbeccbvNYoc/s72-c/wedding.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-5855524834279020452</id><published>2007-10-20T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T13:38:25.625-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hobbies'/><title type='text'>The Endless Pursuit of a Hobby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Everyone should have a hobby, shouldn't they? Hobbies can broaden your horizons and enhance your life. They can keep you busy, educate you and give you something to talk to others about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rxpg3yD4QBI/AAAAAAAAADM/wwzsjTbFlEQ/s1600-h/Knitting+needles.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have tried to find a hobby that will keep me interested for more than a few months. Nothing has stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmdCD4QEI/AAAAAAAAADk/2GUzLxPf8jw/s1600-h/Knitting+needles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123520175042740290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmdCD4QEI/AAAAAAAAADk/2GUzLxPf8jw/s200/Knitting+needles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have tried knitting. This was a lovely, relatively inexpensive hobby that rewarded me with a finished product. I made and gave away several baby blankets and numerous scarfs. The problem I had was that I only knew how to knit and purl and that became mind-numbingly boring. When directions got too complicated, my stitches became sloppy and uneven. Eventually, I ran out of items to make and people to make things for. Honestly, I think the recipients of my hand-made items were relieved when I finally gave up on knitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At another point in my life, I took up painting. I equipped myself with&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmhyD4QFI/AAAAAAAAADs/Avjx-ImXE4s/s1600-h/Pint+Brushes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123520256647118930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmhyD4QFI/AAAAAAAAADs/Avjx-ImXE4s/s200/Pint+Brushes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; oils, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxphMSD4QCI/AAAAAAAAADU/llhJPQkHO_c/s1600-h/Pint+Brushes.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;temperas, brushes and canvases. I set up an easel and converted the room into my studio. I felt like Picasso, slapping paint on the canvas and standing back to admire my masterpieces. Only problem was that I had very limited talent in this area. I've never taken a lesson and really had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. I painted a couple of landscapes that weren't too embarrassing and gave them away. I actually sold one of my paintings for a minimum bid on eBay. But truth be told, I wasn't very good and was not terribly inspired to continue. I just ran out of steam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one time or another I sampled all kinds of domestic hobbies. I have done some gardening, canning, baking breads, sewing and assorted needle crafts. I have tried yoga, running and Tai Bo. Nothing kept my interest for very long.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmmiD4QGI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Osx0cfQuxpY/s1600-h/Wine+Bottles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123520338251497570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmmiD4QGI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Osx0cfQuxpY/s200/Wine+Bottles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My latest interest is wine. This hobby sprung from frustration of purchasing a bottle of wine and not liking it. I was tired of forcing myself to finish off a bottle that tasted like rot-gut. What, I wondered, was the problem? So I started with Wine For Dummies. I began to broaden my knowledge base and experiment with different types of wines. I received all kinds of wine books and gifts from well-meaning family and friends that wanted to support my new interest. My husband purchased a 36 bottle custom wine rack for my "collection" (at the time about 6 bottles). For vacations we visited two of the wine regions in NY, tasting and purchasing bottles to add to the wine rack. After all that, I still only know a teeny-tiny bit about wine. I do, however, now know what kinds of wine I don't like (oaky Merlots and Chardonnays).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not the only one in my household that latches onto a hobby and then gradually looses interest. Don has build and crashed several gas-powered radio controlled airplanes. He has tried photography, purchasing an expensive camera along with all kinds of lenses. Don has at various times played the guitar, banjo, harmonica and saxophone. His latest acquisition is a Yamaha electric organ with all kinds of bells and whistles. It sits gathering dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest hobby is blogging. Wonder how much longer this will last?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-5855524834279020452?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/5855524834279020452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=5855524834279020452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5855524834279020452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5855524834279020452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/10/endless-pursuit-of-hobby.html' title='The Endless Pursuit of a Hobby'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RxpmdCD4QEI/AAAAAAAAADk/2GUzLxPf8jw/s72-c/Knitting+needles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-5697645105593744489</id><published>2007-10-14T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T06:02:46.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Non-Smoker's Editorial</title><content type='html'>I just came back from a day of fun and games at Foxwoods. While I did not return with any extra money in my pockets, I did come back with something: second-hand cigarette smoke. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was our first time at Foxwoods and we were shocked at how poor the ventilation system was. We have gone to Mohegan Sun many times and never experienced that high a level of smoke assault. While we spent most of our time in the non-smoking section, we did have to walk through the smoker areas to get to food and shops. It was really unpleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to wonder what makes a person smoke. I know that, as a teenager it's a kind of status-thing, being cool and all. As an adult, there just seems to be no reason whatsoever to smoke. It's smelly, ugly, expensive and can ruin your health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my last memories of my dad is seeing him on his deathbed in the hospital. At the V.A. hospital in those days, patients were allowed to smoke. Here was my dad, dying of throat cancer, a huge hole in his throat. He sat in his bed, smoking. The smoke from the cigarette pouring out through the hole in his throat. I'm sure dad would be very sad if he knew that in that moment, he created such a painful and lasting image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a shower and washing my clothes, I can still smell the putrid odor of cigarettes. I have a slightly metallic flavor in my mouth that I can only attribute to the smoke. I can only imagine what the second-hand smoke has done to my lungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you smoke, quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll get off my soapbox now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-5697645105593744489?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/5697645105593744489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=5697645105593744489' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5697645105593744489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/5697645105593744489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-just-came-back-from-day-of-fun-and.html' title='Non-Smoker&apos;s Editorial'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-7694937495981728588</id><published>2007-10-05T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T11:05:51.163-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romania'/><title type='text'>Just a Tourist, After All</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwdzwyD4P9I/AAAAAAAAACs/gmN5rv08-Qk/s1600-h/Bourdain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118186783438815186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="142" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwdzwyD4P9I/AAAAAAAAACs/gmN5rv08-Qk/s200/Bourdain.jpg" width="142" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was watching a travel show the other day. It was &lt;a href="http://travel.discovery.com/tv/bourdain/bourdain-season3.html"&gt;Anthony Bourdain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwdznCD4P8I/AAAAAAAAACk/jWIuMoYTfNQ/s1600-h/Bourdain.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; having an amazing adventure in the remote islands in French Polynesia. Bourdain, a cynical and seasoned traveler, swam with sharks, visited &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Gauguin"&gt;Gaugin's&lt;/a&gt; grave site and ate raw sea urchins and snails. He met fun and interesting people and stayed in beautifully rustic settings. Bourdain embraced the new and unexpected with wonder and appreciation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was watching, I kept thinking about just how much I would love to do what he did. Travel the world, experience primitive cultures, eat exotic foods and never knowing what to expect. I envisioned myself packing a backpack with only my essentials, heading off into the great wilderness of some foreign land where I didn't know the language. I would make friends all over the world, be daring and bold and fill up the pages of my passport. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then reality set in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who the heck did I think I was? As much as I love travelling to different places and learning about other cultures, I was no Anthony Bourdain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I really think that I could get away with only a backpack and my bare essentials? When I go&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwahNCD4P7I/AAAAAAAAACc/mPncyjdSDlQ/s1600-h/suitcase.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117955271816658866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="141" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwahNCD4P7I/AAAAAAAAACc/mPncyjdSDlQ/s200/suitcase.jpg" width="107" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; on vacation, I usually plan out what I will wear on each day. I do try to mix-and-match outfits but there are conservatively 10 separate outfits for a 7 night stay. I always take at least two bathing suits (one of them for "fat days"), one pair of sneakers, two pair of sandals and a pair of dress heals. Then there's make-up, sunblock, lotions, perfume and hair products. I need to take one daily medication but I also bring Tylenol, sleeping medication, Imodium and Pepto (for those over-indulgent dining experiences). I hate the thought of getting somewhere and not having what I need, so I pack as much as I can. I don't think these "essentials" will fit in a backpack, do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the matter of food. I am not a fussy eater. I have tried ostrich, buffalo, conch, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poi_(food)"&gt;poi&lt;/a&gt;, various raw seafood and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haggis"&gt;haggis&lt;/a&gt;. Much of this I enjoyed but I do draw the line. On one episode, I watched as Bourdain partook a traditional meal with an Inuit family. They all sat on the floor, surrounding a dead seal. They ripped open the seal and ate the raw meat with their hands. Covered in blood and guts, Bourdain proclaimed the meal delicious. Yuck. No bugs, rats, or raw seal for me. I'll stick to eating establishments where there is some kind of health inspection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past, I have slept in a tent, a camper and on the ground. The first year that I volunteered in Romania, the accommodations were an old school building with cockroaches, fleas and giant &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwfJtSD4QAI/AAAAAAAAADE/akY5NdFUqkY/s1600-h/Bedroom2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118281281309261826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 117px" height="131" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwfJtSD4QAI/AAAAAAAAADE/akY5NdFUqkY/s200/Bedroom2.jpg" width="176" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;slugs. The toilets were "European" (i.e., holes in a cement floor that you did "your business" over hoping to hit the hole). The second time I volunteered in &lt;a href="http://lindanepveu.com/"&gt;Romania&lt;/a&gt;, I slept on the floor of an abandoned building with an old hen house converted into an outhouse. Been there, done that. Prefer clean sheets, plumbing and room service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, the most enjoyable part of travelling is the planning. I spend months online researching every resort, eating establishment, activity and attraction. By the time I arrive, I know more about my destination than many of the locals. I have made reservations and booked tours before leaving home. I plan out a detailed itinerary of every day. I love knowing exactly what to expect. Not exactly bold or adventurous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who needs food poisoning or bed bug bites for adventure? I will continue to live vicariously through Anthony Bourdain and others on the &lt;a href="http://travel.discovery.com/"&gt;Travel Channel&lt;/a&gt; but with a new-found appreciation of my own limitations. I love being a tourist!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-7694937495981728588?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/7694937495981728588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=7694937495981728588' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/7694937495981728588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/7694937495981728588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-tourist-after-all.html' title='Just a Tourist, After All'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RwdzwyD4P9I/AAAAAAAAACs/gmN5rv08-Qk/s72-c/Bourdain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-9083504868988981562</id><published>2007-09-22T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T10:54:24.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Miss From Childhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.freewebphoto.com/thumbnails.php"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At 53, I know I am not THAT old. But time does march on and lately I have had some yearnings for "the good old days." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I want to revert back in time. I love being in the present. We have magical technology that links the world through fingertips. I can take photos and videos on my cell phone. Exploring the world through travel is so much easier and accessible. Dishwashers and microwaves have made my life much more manageable. I love the here and now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it might be fun to recover a few items that have been lost in all the progress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drive-In Movies. &lt;/strong&gt;I remember piling into the car as a child. Ma would get us into our pj's, pop some corn for a snack and make a jug of Koolade. Dad would fumble with the speaker box, mumbling a few choice words under his breath before finally settling down to the movie. With our pillows and blankets making us all snugly, we would be fast asleep even before the feature film was presented. When I started dating, going to the drive-in was an excuse for a make-out session. I'm certain that drive-in movies contributed to more than a few surprise pregnancies. Maybe that's why most of them have been torn down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soda in glass bottles. &lt;/strong&gt;Something about soda in bottles that tastes much fresher and colder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rotary phones and party lines. &lt;/strong&gt;There was just something very soothing about placing your index finger into the dial and having the satisfying sound of the return rotation. Though today's push buttons give you much quicker dialing speed, I am sure that I now dial more wrong numbers. As for party lines, I loved sharing a phone line with the neighbors. The telephone had a distinct ring for each household. It was like receiving a prize when your ring came up. Not only that, but I could eavesdrop on another conversation. This is not something I'm proud of and I certainly wouldn't want anyone listening in on my conversation. Just a guilty pleasure as a child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Full service gas stations. &lt;/strong&gt;It's rare to find a station attendant that will pump your gas, let alone check your oil or wash your windows. I have reluctantly become accustomed to pumping my own gas but it sure would be nice to not have to do it on cold or rainy days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Milk delivered to your door. &lt;/strong&gt;I remember our Hood delivery man. His name was "Red" and he was a cheerful, friendly guy who sometimes slipped us kids an ice cream on hot days. Red never let us run out of milk, butter, eggs or bread. Nowadays, I will make two or three separate trips to the grocery store because I have forgotten to pick up the milk or bread or eggs or butter. Red, where are you when I need you today? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Woolworth's. &lt;/strong&gt;In case you don't know about Woolworth's, it was a store. But not just any store. It carried a wide variety of items from penny candy to shoes to hardware to kitchen towels. Just about everything and all very cheap. But Woolworth's, to me, was more than just a store. I'd spend hours roaming around with my friends, trying on clothes, buying little trinkets and having a relaxed, fun time. When we got tired of shopping for nothing, we'd have a seat at the store's diner where you could sit on a stool and order the world's best grilled cheese sandwiches, french fries, and chocolate shakes. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the creak of the old, wide plank wood floors and smell the odd combination of mustiness, mothballs and grease that welcomed all who entered Woolworth's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really not sure what brought on this wave of nostalgia. In any event, a trip down memory lane and a visit to "Happy Days" was fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-9083504868988981562?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/9083504868988981562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=9083504868988981562' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/9083504868988981562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/9083504868988981562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/09/things-i-miss-from-childhood.html' title='Things I Miss From Childhood'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-2666290836718017696</id><published>2007-09-16T09:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T17:31:58.320-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Truman'/><title type='text'>Truman's Response</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RvMENavbNjI/AAAAAAAAACU/4tnASmIHOM8/s1600-h/Under+Bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112434630558692914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RvMENavbNjI/AAAAAAAAACU/4tnASmIHOM8/s200/Under+Bed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Dear Linda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I just read your blog. Very amusing to YOU, I'm sure. However, have you ever considered how I might like being in your shoes every now and then? Here are my top 5 reasons why I would like to be you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;5. You can talk to your friends anytime you want. If you should meet up with a friend on the street, you can take all the time in the world to catch up while I sit by, patiently waiting. On the other hand, whenever I spy a friend, I am allowed only the briefest of "Hello" sniffs and I am interrupted mid-greeting. How's a fella supposed to score a doggie play date?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;4. You don't have to wear embarrassing outfits for "special occasions". I hate that Halloween pumpkin costume and even the fancy bandannas are itchy and drive me crazy. I am the laughing stock of the neighborhood and heard through the grapevine that I have been nominated for "&lt;strong&gt;What Not To Wear."&lt;/strong&gt; I am a dog. Please stop dressing me like a human.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;3. You don't have to do stupid tricks to get a cookie. I see you going into the kitchen and stuff a treat into your mouth when you think no one is looking. Did you have to "Speak" or "Roll over" to get it? I think not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;2. You can eat whenever and whatever you wish. Once again food comes into play. This is very important to me, as you well know. I get fed at the same time twice each day and the menu never changes much. How lucky you are to have choices and to be able to eat when you are hungry, not just at certain times. &lt;em&gt;[If you feel at all guilty about this, maybe you could slip me some of tonight's chicken? Aw, come on.]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;1. Your bathroom habits are kept private. Once again, I am at your mercy. How would you like someone saying, "Hurry up" when you're trying to do your business? Not only that but, try as I might to walk as far from you as possible (I am modest, you know), you are always standing within leash-length, waiting. Talk about pressure. Can you say "performance anxiety"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;While I am certain that there are many aspects of my life that are enviable, you don't have it so bad, either. I own some great people who love and pamper me. Life is good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Woof! Truman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-2666290836718017696?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/2666290836718017696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=2666290836718017696' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2666290836718017696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2666290836718017696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/09/trumans-response.html' title='Truman&apos;s Response'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RvMENavbNjI/AAAAAAAAACU/4tnASmIHOM8/s72-c/Under+Bed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-8445410779074372965</id><published>2007-09-15T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T06:35:19.047-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scotland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boston'/><title type='text'>Old Things Through New Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sometimes it's a good thing to see things from anothers perspective. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Ru0m5ap4wRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/aFt48xMc8gQ/s1600-h/my%2520scotish%2520flag%25205.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110783919984787730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Ru0m5ap4wRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/aFt48xMc8gQ/s200/my%2520scotish%2520flag%25205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Some friends from Scotland recently came for a visit. Barbara and Campbell spent a week living at my home and enjoyed an easy-going vacation. I always treasure the time we spend together for many reasons but it also helps me to recognize the importance of so many things that I sometimes take for granted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Because I had to work during the day, I was unable to accompany them or provide them with a tour of the sights. This may have been a good thing. I have a tendency to plan every detail of a vacation and am sure I would have insisted on taking in museums and seeing many historical landmarks. Because they were left to their own, every evening I found myself anxious to hear all about their days adventures. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Barbara and Campbell discovered ways to explore and entertain themselves while I was at work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Ru0oFKp4wTI/AAAAAAAAACM/Wgwn58U-R_8/s1600-h/8MARECA2R8H77CAAE72QDCAWTSKURCACY5RR3CAARB2TOCASJLMEWCA0DV5NACA0Y3E33CAL26ERICAI4DAWQCACQKOHPCASVWJBOCATAXL1BCAKRL7QKCAM2EK3VCA4GG5S8CATU1U1MCA59L1EZCA8FNY0O.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;. Choosing not to rent a car, they found pleasure in taking the train into Boston and simply walking around. They had no agenda and weren't always sure exactly where they were or what they would find there. It was refreshing to hear them talk about endless hours of strolling the streets of Boston, popping into various shops to uncover new and unexpected treasures. When they needed a break, they simply walked into the nearest bar (they always called them "pubs" which make them sound so much more interesting) for a pint and a bite to eat. No museums, no scurrying from one place to get to the next, no rush or worries. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was worried that they would find themselves bored just hanging around my house with nothing to do. I shouldn't have. On the days that they did not go into Boston, they walked for miles all about my little town. One day they set off for the local Walmart, about 2.5 miles way. On their walk, they stopped to have tea at a Friendly's, chatting up the waitress and laughingly getting a "pensioner's discount". At Walmart, they spent hours just drifting around, taking in the wide range of selections and marvelling at the bargain prices. The return walk found them at the Ninety-Nine for an afternoon cocktail before ambling back to the house with their purchases. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On another day at home, they walked in the opposite direction, ending almost 4 miles up Main Street at a large grocery store and strip mall. Demoulas, Home Goods and Picadilly Pub featured prominently in their tales of adventures for the day's outing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After every outing, Barbara and Campbell delighted in displaying their purchases and were thrilled with the bargains they got. I take for granted just how comparatively inexpensive things are here. Time and time again, they pointed out that they would pay twice as much for a product. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They took the time to see everything and take in all the details that I would normally just ignore, things that I had just taken for granted. They had enthusiasm in their voices when they talked about all the places they had visited during the day. These are places that I pass by every day in my busy life and never take the time to give a second thought.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, thank you, dear Barbara and Campbell, for helping me to realize that I need to slow down and see things that I don't usually even give a second thought to. I need to recognize that a simple walk can hold an adventure instead of a means of exercise. Thank you for helping me to recognize that I am, indeed, a very lucky person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Other things I take for granted that my friends found special: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hershey Kisses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Zippered storage bags&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mr. Clean Magic Eraser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Target&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Dunkin' Donuts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mottos on license plates&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Police logs in the local newspaper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Christmas Tree Shop &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-8445410779074372965?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/8445410779074372965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=8445410779074372965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/8445410779074372965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/8445410779074372965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/09/old-things-through-new-eyes.html' title='Old Things Through New Eyes'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Ru0m5ap4wRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/aFt48xMc8gQ/s72-c/my%2520scotish%2520flag%25205.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-659253501219056670</id><published>2007-09-05T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T12:01:40.113-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Fashion Issues</title><content type='html'>Am I the only one who is bothered by the following fashion trends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Big, baggy pants that hang below the butt, often with boxers waving in the breeze? I know this has been a trend for quite some time now. I just don't get it. Whenever I have questioned a devotee of this trend, they tell me it's more comfortable than "rear riders" (or "butt huggers" or "wedgie wear"). I'm not buyin' it. Ever seen one of these fashonistas walking down the street? Either they are clutching onto the waistband or striding with legs wide-apart. Yup, that looks comfortable.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sweatpants or sweatshorts with something written across the backside. It started with "BUM" sportswear and has gone downhill since then. All this does is emphasize someones biggest (and in many cases, I mean BIGGEST) asset. Even the tiniest woman looks like she has extra junk in her trunk. This is not a good look. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Women over the age of 24 with vibrantly colored streaks in their hair. I'm not talking about honey-blond or golden highlights. I'm talking about colors that are not found in nature. Brilliant reds, neon-blues, putrid purples. Wash it out. You look stupid. While we're at it, how about those women who add those copper-ish tones? Copper is not a hair color. It's for pennies. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tight, tight, skin-tight tops. Usually these are worn by women who sport fuller figures. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against women who have a little extra meat on their bones. I just don't like having all that extra falling, rolling or hanging out for everyone to ogle. Then there's the issue of keeping the top in place. I've noticed way too much time spent pulling and tugging. What is the point?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Crocs. OK, this is where I'm going to get it. Sorry, but those ridiculous-looking rubber shoes should only be worn by... gosh, I can't even think of who should wear them. They are not cute. ...the little buttons that can be purchased to dress them up are not helping. These "shoes" (I use this term lightly) were made for gardening. That's where they belong. Buried in the garden. [I should probably take my own "hit" for wearing Teva sandals (also known as "Jesus sandals). They are ugly, I admit it. I'm addicted to their comfort.]&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gosh, I sound crotchety. Must be getting older.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-659253501219056670?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/659253501219056670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=659253501219056670' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/659253501219056670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/659253501219056670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/09/fashion-issues.html' title='Fashion Issues'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-9166266339025374486</id><published>2007-08-30T15:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T05:38:39.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog's Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtdR9CvADII/AAAAAAAAABk/X5WhQa9N7dc/s1600-h/Sleepy+Boy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104638811795623042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtdR9CvADII/AAAAAAAAABk/X5WhQa9N7dc/s320/Sleepy+Boy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top 5 reasons I wish I were my dog, Truman.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. I would be able to fall asleep anytime and anywhere.&lt;/strong&gt; My dog seems to enjoy this pastime and can do it all day long. I've watched him wake up from a nap, walk a short distance and plop down to enjoy another snooze, as if the action of waking and walking a few feet was exhausting. He will fall asleep on floors, couches, beds, in the searing hot sunshine, on the deck, in the grass, and on just about any flat surface. His favorite spot to catch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Z's&lt;/span&gt; is between our legs on the couch or snuggled in bed between Don and myself. As someone who has difficulties with falling asleep and staying asleep, I'd like to know how Truman does this. I'm sure I could market this talent and make millions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. I would never have to think about what or when I would eat.&lt;/strong&gt; My dog gets fed like clockwork at 6:15am and 5:00pm. If he is not fed at this time, he will stare forlornly at whichever "master" (I use this term very lightly) is available. I would not have to make decisions about what to eat or Weight Watcher points. Though selections are limited (kibble with yogurt for breakfast, kibble with Parmesan cheese for dinner), these two are favorites that have been created through years of trial and error. I would also never have to cook. A HUGE plus!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtdSISvADJI/AAAAAAAAABs/jomHlUaR_qs/s1600-h/Truman+MArch+2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104639005069151378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtdSISvADJI/AAAAAAAAABs/jomHlUaR_qs/s320/Truman+MArch+2007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;3. I wouldn't have to listen if I didn't feel like it.&lt;/strong&gt; Truman has a god-given talent for pretending not to hear or understand a command. Don't get me wrong, he is well-trained. We took him to many, many classes and he was a star pupil, making us so proud with his perfect "sit-stay-comes". He is extremely obedient when there is a treat involved. Oh yes, he CAN do it. There are times, however, when it seems he just cannot bring himself to bother with any request we have for him. His aloof behavior is both frustrating and somewhat endearing. I'd love to be able to ignore something my boss or my husband asks and have them feel tender-hearted toward being ignored. [NOTE: Don says that this is what he calls my &lt;em&gt;"selective hearing"&lt;/em&gt; mode and while I have mastered this skill, it is &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; endearing . He does still feel tender-hearted toward me, though].&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. I could make judgments on people by sniffing them. &lt;/strong&gt;OK, this one may not appeal to many of you. Truman can size up whether or not to socialize with another dog by sniffing them. Think of the time this saves. No more polite small talk or false pretenses. Truman gets right to the heart (well, maybe not the heart so much as the butt) of the matter. A brief sniffing encounter tells him everything he needs to know about the other. While I am not suggesting that sniffing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; butt should be part an introduction, it would be nice to have a way to gauge a person without spending allot of time getting to know them through small talk. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104639310011829410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtdSaCvADKI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vGfniHt41cE/s320/Truamn+with+burglar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. There would always be someone behind me to pick up my "poop." &lt;/strong&gt;I am a good neighbor and conscientious dog owner. If Truman goes potty on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; lawn, I pick it up and dispose of it. I never walk him without having the "tools" to clean up after him. Wouldn't it be lovely to have a personal assistant that could follow me around and clean up whatever messes I've made? Just think about all the "bombs" I could drop and not even have to think about the aftermath. Get caught making an illegal U-turn? "Why Officer, just talk to my assistant, she'll clear up this whole matter." Get a little too tipsy at an employer-sponsored party and wake up the next morning not remembering what I said or did? No problem. My assistant would not only run damage control, she could tell me every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; detail. (She, of course, being the designated driver.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Truman has a great life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-9166266339025374486?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/9166266339025374486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=9166266339025374486' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/9166266339025374486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/9166266339025374486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/08/dogs-life.html' title='Dog&apos;s Life'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtdR9CvADII/AAAAAAAAABk/X5WhQa9N7dc/s72-c/Sleepy+Boy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-4659572755953916906</id><published>2007-08-25T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T08:47:05.857-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leicha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Vacation Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's always great to get away. We usually try to have one "fly-away" vacation and one "drive-away" vacation each year. We are very lucky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;After an emergency trip to the hospital with Don on the eve of our trip, our vacation needed to be delayed for two days. Fortunately, Don's illness, though scary and mysterious, did not linger and he was in great shape to head off on vacation. By this time, we really need to get away!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;After about 4 hours on the road, our first stop was in Hyde Park, NY where we &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBAiSvADEI/AAAAAAAAABE/Jtt0PdY3_bU/s1600-h/CIA+CAmpus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102649335699475522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBAiSvADEI/AAAAAAAAABE/Jtt0PdY3_bU/s320/CIA+CAmpus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;visited the campus of &lt;a href="http://www.ciachef.edu/"&gt;The Culinary Institute of America (CIA). &lt;/a&gt;An unusual stop for a vacation, you might say. However, I had read that the restaurants were top notch and the lure of good food was just too much for us to resist. Unfortunately, because of our vacation schedule change, most of the restaurants were closed. However, we did manage to have an excellent lunch at the bakery/cafe where they serve soups, salads, sandwiches and the most decadent desserts on earth. I had a three salad assortment (chicken, garbanzo beans and Mediterranean pasta) and a cherry tart (there goes my Weight Watcher points for the day). After lunch we toured the school a bit, watching the students prepare food behind large glass viewing windows and strolled the beautiful grounds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBCnyvADGI/AAAAAAAAABU/kd8mbJTXHbU/s1600-h/FDR+Wheelchair"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102651629212011618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBCnyvADGI/AAAAAAAAABU/kd8mbJTXHbU/s320/FDR+Wheelchair" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After lunch we drove up the road a bit to the Ho&lt;a href="http://www.nps.gov/hofr/"&gt;me of Franklin Roosevelt&lt;/a&gt;, a National Historic Site. I have always admired the work of this remarkable president. He was able to unite and organize the country during a time of great challenge. Someone we could use in power now. We toured the grounds and the home site, then went to the FDR library. It was amazing to think that this man who suffered so painfully with polio and was confined to a wheelchair was able to keep all his medical problems out of the media. That certainly would &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;not happen today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Next we drove to &lt;a href="http://www.moondanceridge.com/"&gt;Moondance Ridge Bed and Breakfast&lt;/a&gt;, our "home" for the next two nights. We enjoy staying at B&amp;Bs and have had some wonderful experiences. This place did not disappoint. We were met by Patti, the innkeeper and given a brief rundown of the house and our room. The room was very large, elegant and comfortable. After a sauna and bath in the huge whirlpool tub (insert relaxing sigh here), we set off for a wonderful supper at a place called Barnaby's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;In the morning, Patti prepared us a lovely breakfast of fresh berries, baked herb eggs and biscuits. Don and I were well-fueled for a day of winery tours and tastings. We drove to &lt;a href="http://www.brotherhoodwinery.net/pages/default.asp"&gt;Brotherhood Winery&lt;/a&gt;, the oldest winery in America where we bought a few bottles of Charval, a blend of Chardonnay &amp;amp; Seyval Blanc. Next to &lt;a href="http://www.benmarl.com/"&gt;Benmarl Winery&lt;/a&gt; where we had a very nice tasting experience with a fellow named Nick. After purchasing more wine, we drove to &lt;a href="http://www.rivendellwine.com/"&gt;Rivendell Winery&lt;/a&gt;. One more tasting and several more purchases completed our Hudson Valley wine touring for the day. Supper at a place called The Gilded Otter in downtown New Paltz was a bit of a disappointment to an otherwise pleasant day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;The next morning, Patti out-did herself with making us a tasty breakfast of fresh strawberries, Challah bread french toast and bacon. A great way to begin our day and start our journey down to Reading, PA to see our son, Adam and his wife, Beth and the STAR of our lives, our new grandbaby, Leicha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;This was our first experience holding Leicha, who was born 6 weeks early on &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBIACvADHI/AAAAAAAAABc/fgBt5eE1c6E/s1600-h/IMG_0287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102657543381978226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBIACvADHI/AAAAAAAAABc/fgBt5eE1c6E/s320/IMG_0287.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;June 27. We spent most of our time mesmerized by this tiny (now a big ol' 7 pounds!), sweet angel. Adam and Beth were very excited to show off their baby and we had a memorable visit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;While in Reading, we made a visit to&lt;a href="http://www.maam.org/"&gt; The Mid-Atlantic Air Museum&lt;/a&gt; (my concession to Don's interests). As we were the only tourists, we got a very personalized tour by an elderly gentleman named, Joe, who really knew his stuff. Of interest at this museum is a P-61 nightfighter that was recovered from the jungles of the Philippines at considerable expense. I guess it's one of only four in the world and they will be restoring and flying it in the future. Don took many photos as I tagged along and tried to look interested for the sake of Joe, who focused all his attention on explaining every detail to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;We also managed to visit the &lt;a href="http://www.readingpublicmuseum.org/"&gt;Reading Public Museum&lt;/a&gt;, a really nice collection of interesting and unusual "stuff" from all over the world. We strolled the beautifully landscaped grounds, enjoying the peace and quiet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;All-in-all, Don and I had a very nice time, the highlight being our time with our grandbaby. Back to reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-4659572755953916906?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/4659572755953916906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=4659572755953916906' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/4659572755953916906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/4659572755953916906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/08/vacation-days.html' title='Vacation Days'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RtBAiSvADEI/AAAAAAAAABE/Jtt0PdY3_bU/s72-c/CIA+CAmpus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-3948652544516041946</id><published>2007-08-18T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T09:53:49.312-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='medical'/><title type='text'>My Husband's "Mistress"</title><content type='html'>My husband has a "mistress".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don's "mistress" crept into our lives during the early years of our marriage, shaking us to the breaking point on many occasions. He has never wanted "her" but despite his efforts, he is unable to get "her" to leave. I have resigned myself to the fact that "she" will be an unwanted part of the rest of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His "mistress" has created financial hardships. "Her" demands have made it difficult for Don to advance in his career. "She" has pulled him away from work at critical times, diminishing his credibility and impacting his effectiveness. To keep "her" away as much as possible requires us to tap into our household budget regularly, making acquiring savings for vacations, retirement or extras a struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She" is always on our minds, invading our thoughts and conversations. Don and I have always had honest and often painful discussions about "her" intrusion into our lives. His "mistress" has caused many heated arguments, cruel words and sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don's "mistress" has taken him from my bed. He sleeps with "her" every night causing him to toss and turn. Because of "her", Don will often sleep on the couch so as to not disturb me with the restlessness that "she" causes him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She" has disrupted vacations. Many times we've had to cancel or reschedule much-needed vacations because "she" needed attention. When we do go away, we are always aware of the limitations that "she" imposes on Don.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don feels guilty for having this evil "mistress." He never meant to impose "her" on me and he questions why I stay with him through all this turmoil. While I have been pushed to the very edge of despair, the thought of leaving my one true love has never been an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don hates "her". His love and devotion to me are unquestioned. However, "her" ability to wrench him away from me is stronger than our love for each other. And I know, in the end, "she" will ultimately take him away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband's "mistress" is his poor health and on-going medical issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;[Dear family and friends: please forgive me this bitter rant. After coming home from another emergency room trip at 2 in the morning and having to reschedule our vacation to see our new grandbaby, I am hurting. Don is feeling much better, by the way and, thanks to this blog-therapy, so am I.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-3948652544516041946?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/3948652544516041946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=3948652544516041946' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/3948652544516041946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/3948652544516041946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-husbands-mistress.html' title='My Husband&apos;s &quot;Mistress&quot;'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-3426321608180583056</id><published>2007-08-11T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T15:56:29.671-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Secrets to a Happy Marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;First of all: there are no secrets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don and I will be celebrating our 35th wedding anniversary this October. We have been blessed with 20 very happy years, 10 years of just keeping our heads above water and 5 pretty miserable years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not the happy years that make a marriage. Happy is easy. You just take life as it comes and coast along. I have learned to enjoy the happy years as a reward for all the struggles and hardships that we've been through.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While happy years are the ideal, it's the struggling years that really make a marriage. It's the financial, emotional and medical hardships that can crush a marriage and test it's character. In this age of disposable marriages, it's all too easy to call it quits when the going gets tough. It &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rr4-ZMPRbcI/AAAAAAAAAA8/JNsAyyERFk8/s1600-h/Formal+Night+Linda+and+Don.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097580430732914114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rr4-ZMPRbcI/AAAAAAAAAA8/JNsAyyERFk8/s320/Formal+Night+Linda+and+Don.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;takes strength, dedication and allot of hard work to overcome challenges in a marriage and fierce determination to make it work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don and I have had our struggles and we will continue to face many more. I am proud of what we have built together and the mutual respect and devotion we have for one another. Thirty-five years of love, laughter and many tears have brought us closer together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No secrets here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-3426321608180583056?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/3426321608180583056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=3426321608180583056' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/3426321608180583056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/3426321608180583056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/08/secrets-to-happy-marriage.html' title='Secrets to a Happy Marriage'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rr4-ZMPRbcI/AAAAAAAAAA8/JNsAyyERFk8/s72-c/Formal+Night+Linda+and+Don.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-8619390367154155151</id><published>2007-08-06T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T15:57:49.675-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mount Washington'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hiking'/><title type='text'>Mount Washington Hike</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rrdo0cPRbZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/VOAZT3QpQfs/s1600-h/Touch+the+clouds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095656753535741330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="252" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rrdo0cPRbZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/VOAZT3QpQfs/s320/Touch+the+clouds.jpg" width="333" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another goal achieved! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday I hiked Mount Washington with some friends, old and new, along with my brother-in-law. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the base camp of the Tuckerman's Ravine Trail around 10:00am having driven over 3 hours. After gathering gear and making one last "pit stop," we were on our way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day was bright and sunny with a cool breeze giving us a break every now and then. We couldn't have asked for a better day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For 2.4 miles the trail was wide and easy to navigate with a steady climb that was comfortable. After about 2 hours of hiking, we reached the Hermit Lake shelters where we took a long break before tackling the ravine headwall. This was a steady, challenging assent, much of it required large, lifting steps and pulling up and onto boulders. It took us 1 1/2 hour to reach the summit cone. This next section was 100% rock climbing rather than hiking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was at this point that I began to question the wisdom of this goal. I could see the summit. It was in reach. My body, however, was overwhelmed with shear exhaustion. Additionally, I was now plagued with a cramping spasm in my right quadriceps muscle. The thought of a helicopter rescue kept me motivated to nearly crawl ahead, one painful step at a time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After 30 more minutes, we all made it to the top! Someone decided to play a cruel joke on all hikers reaching the top: there are stairs leading to the actual summit point. I found myself clinging to the railing and pulling myself up every single step, determined to make it to the summit. From start to top, we hiked for 4 hours.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rrds0MPRbaI/AAAAAAAAAAs/iaIcCbFXKT8/s1600-h/We+made+it.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095661147287285154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="199" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rrds0MPRbaI/AAAAAAAAAAs/iaIcCbFXKT8/s320/We+made+it.jpg" width="284" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The summit has a snack bar and we all enjoyed chili, clam chowder and hot dogs. That's all I needed to reinvigorate for the hike down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took Lion's Head Trail back down. While it was steeper and rougher, it was also less crowded and had some spectacular views.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095663565353872818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="192" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/RrdvA8PRbbI/AAAAAAAAAA0/N70FZXKUajo/s320/King+of+the+world.jpg" width="273" border="0" /&gt; The trail eventually reconnects with the Tuckerman's trail and signalled to us the last part of our journey. I kept thinking that we certainly must be near the end NOW, when in fact , it took us another 1 1/2 hours to return to the base lodge. The hike down took a little over 3 1/2 hours. All totalled, we were on that mountain for 8 1/2 hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I am proud of having climbed Mt. Washington 3 times, I can now hang up my hiking boots. I'm done. Stick a fork in me. The struggle that I encountered during the last 30 minutes of the assent, helped convince me that I have nothing to prove to myself. My aching muscles today sealed the deal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to my hiking team for making this fun and exciting: Joe, George and Kristen, Jason and Colleen. ...and thanks to my husband for his support and for having the foot soak ready when I got home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-8619390367154155151?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/8619390367154155151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=8619390367154155151' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/8619390367154155151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/8619390367154155151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/08/mount-washington-hike.html' title='Mount Washington Hike'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rrdo0cPRbZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/VOAZT3QpQfs/s72-c/Touch+the+clouds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1202213897356148838.post-2718577552991201193</id><published>2007-07-31T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T15:59:14.729-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leicha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gammy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandmother'/><title type='text'>Revelations of a New Grandmother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rq-c2sPRbWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GoWoIfuQWBM/s1600-h/IMG_0159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093462166981406050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rq-c2sPRbWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GoWoIfuQWBM/s320/IMG_0159.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I'm a Granny now! My sweet little Leicha was born on June 27, 2 days after my birthday and about 6 weeks early. She was only 4.3 pounds and 17" long. Just a teeny-tiny thing. She is doing very well and has now passed the 5 pound mark. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have so many mixed feelings about being a grandmother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like I'm too young to be entering this phase of my life. I have been denying my advancing years for some time now. While 53 is not THAT old, it's closer to "elderly" than it is to "teenage" (not that I'd want to relive those years). I recently lost some weight and I work out 5-7 times a week. My body is in the best shape it's ever been in. In a few days, I'll be leading a hike up Mt. Washington, NH's highest peak. But the fact of the matter is, things aren't quite what they used to be. I feel it first thing in the morning and last thing at night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel sad that my grandchild lives so far away and that I'll be a long-distance Grandmother. I talk to other Grandmothers who get to visit their Grands often, sometimes daily. They are firmly entrenched in their soccer games, school events and childhood illnesses. They are close by to offer advise or babysitting. I will be the voice on the end of the phone line, someone who mails packages for birthdays and fusses and dotes once a year during the holidays. I can only hope that I am able to find ways to become someone special in this little girl's life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel excited to know that we have an addition to our family. It will be great fun to watch how this person turns out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel loving and protective of my Grandbaby. I want her to have all the joys in the world at her feet. I never want her to experience heartbreak or deep sorrow. I want to wrap her in the comfort of my arms and never let go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... and so, I am "Gammy" (my mother is "Grammy").&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1202213897356148838-2718577552991201193?l=lnepveu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/feeds/2718577552991201193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1202213897356148838&amp;postID=2718577552991201193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2718577552991201193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1202213897356148838/posts/default/2718577552991201193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lnepveu.blogspot.com/2007/07/revelations-of-new-grandmother.html' title='Revelations of a New Grandmother'/><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17858253186746048392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/TRssa7-z2VI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gIpw8aDEStA/S220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B2.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FeRzsKRkyeM/Rq-c2sPRbWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GoWoIfuQWBM/s72-c/IMG_0159.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
