tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18571755465507269852024-03-04T22:56:47.244-07:00Tibbitts' PaperbagYa never know what you'll find in a paper bag, and that's what makes it so fun to look inside.Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-63208295765866304102010-08-16T15:08:00.002-06:002010-08-16T15:41:50.660-06:00<div><br /></div><div>Music pick: Everything I Own by Bread.......gets me every time.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXN2AYkEnBejSKQZMCkkp-9y9nxB5FD4wyfHNPSc2_ULe87FKKY96ddH-DOglo0wYmgYPFVE-xX3qvgVzpjPb8drRr9u9WoDSGcJ7omNa55VpQJoreXTB5LaSAVo378pW42__20_CXHR0/s1600/Tibbitts_0032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXN2AYkEnBejSKQZMCkkp-9y9nxB5FD4wyfHNPSc2_ULe87FKKY96ddH-DOglo0wYmgYPFVE-xX3qvgVzpjPb8drRr9u9WoDSGcJ7omNa55VpQJoreXTB5LaSAVo378pW42__20_CXHR0/s400/Tibbitts_0032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506117926776945442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">a field of lovely flowers</div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-68455008388043980572009-03-09T16:55:00.026-06:002009-03-15T18:52:10.037-06:00THE SUMMIT<div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6QysFfmeeCBgwXX7rNjhvOrzjHTwWdBGXPKXR1zxPJZKkqTZ2Xl8SEVswe1hZCr1SBqq77JmEYweuxaOsZje09MgyZWgSa_wrny7aIebYTcZI1P7x4XNriAJtrEsH1yWifmxAjf9Ql0/s1600-h/B0000CDL6V_01__SCTHUMBZZZ_.jpg"></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIHCrTAjJVSklXL-7SrleC99I-HSoIaUku5IDNBAp6emi37b7uBsAYx_C1hLaAkBeh6zhulH8S9lVSL4NLwkaCPKpaXTq-VnlWXkzEFf0VS9e4WDWybLQimfraMcQsFL3yBL2LavOcmQ/s1600-h/m_majestic_13.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311325589525040706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIHCrTAjJVSklXL-7SrleC99I-HSoIaUku5IDNBAp6emi37b7uBsAYx_C1hLaAkBeh6zhulH8S9lVSL4NLwkaCPKpaXTq-VnlWXkzEFf0VS9e4WDWybLQimfraMcQsFL3yBL2LavOcmQ/s400/m_majestic_13.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311357336825065330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 75px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 75px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6QysFfmeeCBgwXX7rNjhvOrzjHTwWdBGXPKXR1zxPJZKkqTZ2Xl8SEVswe1hZCr1SBqq77JmEYweuxaOsZje09MgyZWgSa_wrny7aIebYTcZI1P7x4XNriAJtrEsH1yWifmxAjf9Ql0/s200/B0000CDL6V_01__SCTHUMBZZZ_.jpg" border="0" /></p><p></p><p>Lifesong</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><p><span style="color:#999900;"></span></p><p><span style="color:#999900;">.</span></p><p><span style="color:#999900;">.</span></p><p><span style="color:#999900;">.</span></p><p>“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one see, one descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen.There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.” -Rene <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Daumal</span><br /><br /></p><p></p><div align="justify">Don't you love that 'knowing' and how it helps us climb the path to the next summit. The toil of getting to the summit is worth every effort, and somehow transforms the Vallie's and the hillsides into their own kind of paradise, even if for some seemingly long seasons, they <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">appeared</span> barren desert. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311335360260969202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnEWyUGDYYaGYJ372RbhUmwkwcGatlpeCwb_jaBDeanVy-puu7YG_e50CoReI9298fOFchzP71meSIML9cSAiUQdSy_uIDeYJ9A3TU5b-8m2W8Obj_rCC1EvBimm1wejeYA4hwfWFZew/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="justify"></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-33517639116506870032009-02-11T07:27:00.004-07:002009-02-11T07:39:19.522-07:00FLYING<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgZWekze2Vnv2u7warj0pXIm_e7CsKd3eGVgWuVCEWEE_n4iZrE227njCIvkNOcAjTvpAr94fS0OTfDk7YIBVhofTKK9ItauY1AXIMP_iYEUmoCPbwifWw908ouxOa0_t0mq1v-hroHA/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301546436141048962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgZWekze2Vnv2u7warj0pXIm_e7CsKd3eGVgWuVCEWEE_n4iZrE227njCIvkNOcAjTvpAr94fS0OTfDk7YIBVhofTKK9ItauY1AXIMP_iYEUmoCPbwifWw908ouxOa0_t0mq1v-hroHA/s400/scan0001.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8orOA2kM-m1Ki5NYi-itWy5_bu1m7DOc7iKW5C0CaKKdUBfH5pQkMlYOvKZaUPXsZhRcBH09LQ64QYumEP27qEsPBW8bCXL0__IaLTslPwNx24sOJ6VTgcHYmPojEJfUJyMqthG1JL6o/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301546627738854962" style="WIDTH: 127px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 80px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8orOA2kM-m1Ki5NYi-itWy5_bu1m7DOc7iKW5C0CaKKdUBfH5pQkMlYOvKZaUPXsZhRcBH09LQ64QYumEP27qEsPBW8bCXL0__IaLTslPwNx24sOJ6VTgcHYmPojEJfUJyMqthG1JL6o/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /></a> Sister Sledge 'We Are Family'<br /><br />This morning while rounding the bend of 3 miles in a 6 mile run, the song 'We Are Family' came on. I was at the same place mentally, physically, & emotionally I seem to always pass through on my way to some place better. Please tell me you know what this sounds like.<br />“Is that right?!?!” looking at the stats of my run, “I'm only half done!?? I don’t know, I can’t see, there is sweat in my eyes! Up my nose and yes, finding drainage into my mouth! I could blow a limb….. RIGHT OFF MY BODY!" BUT (and this is an amazing thing for me) I love the challenge! Not for the same old reason, to get skinny, but because (and I really had to think about this), it's because of the misery and then the joy the bitter and then the sweet, the good vs. evil of it all; (at least I think that's what it is). So, from somewhere, ANYWHERE! I’m looking for that “second wind”. Sometimes it comes relatively easy but THAT is the exception to the rule, and happily, the exception to the rule is what I so enjoyed this morning!<br />The lyrics go like this, "We are family, I got all my sisters with me." So naturally, I start to think about my sisters and sister in laws, and their amazingness (made-up word in solidarity with Melissa) and I thought about all the things I love about each of them.<br /><br />Everyone knows Lindsey IS the nicest sister, need I say more? Yes, I must. She will laugh at your stupid jokes, love your stupid hair, and your big behind.......she won’t even notice in those way cute jeans. She is a girlfriend to every girl, even to my teenagers, (true of all my sisters). MaRea would give you the shirt off her back, even if she got an amazing deal on it. Her heart is as true as the day is long, making her a closet liberal. I love the way she loves! Angie can relate with old men and little kids without a noticeable gear change. She is bright in all the ways you can think to use that word. Melissa moves through her life like an Olympic speed skater, long, strong & purposeful strides, she really moves! (not just physically), I just love to watch. Nicole has an incredibly tender heart, finding that tenderness makes you the luckiest, because you will never find a more loyal and dear friend. Karen is just 18 month younger than me, but she has always been 2 step ahead of me and it has been a source of frustration all my life, up-n-till now! Not because I'm catching up, I'v given up that lost race. I think, it's because I'v stopped chasing and started watching, and wow what a view! She bounds through life with a butterfly net catching amazing things, how fun is that!!!! You know if you have spent any time with her! Shari, better known as Shar by the luckiest man in the family, has a gift for drawing into her arms anyone who will let her enjoy them, who can resist? not anyone I know. Tera, posted on her blog a beautiful tribute to her mom saying " She has always chosen patience over intolerance, calmness over sass, looks of praise over distance and consistency over swats" end quote. The amazing thing is, those are words I would choose to describe Tera. She has an amazing clarity about where she wants to live her life. Laura; I have a pair of running shoes on the floor in my bathroom, and every time I walk past them, I feel something a kin to how I feel about seeing my scriptures open with a recent OH YA!!!! still lingering there on the pages. I remember the joy of that mornings run, and a certain sister who helped me find the PERFECT running shoes and the attitude that has to go with them, in order to find the joy there in the soles! (This morning; 6 miles in under 60 minutes!!!!)<br /><br />In my circle of sisters my mom is always there. She flows through all of us in ways I have no words for, and my daughters are turning up there, more and more often, and they are listening and learning from the best!<br /><br />So, you know the rest of the story, as I start thinking about these amazing people and how blessed I am....... my chest and head rise, my pace picks up and the rhythm of my run changes. My heart wasn't beating just from the demands of my quads, but from something so much more inspired, I wanted so much for them, the best of what they wanted, I prayed with my whole soul for their righteous desires, and that at lest on that day, they would feel the love of God for them. I was working from my core! No....... IT WAS MORE LIKE FLYING!<br /><br /><div></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-32448589417551221882008-12-05T16:50:00.035-07:002009-02-09T19:56:55.141-07:00MY BIG FAT REDNECK THANKSGIVING music pick; Sweet Home Alabama<div><div><div>REDNECK: refers to a stereotype of usually rural, Caucasian (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ie</span></span></span> white) people of lower socioeconomic status in the United States and Canada, OR as Jeff <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Foxworthy</span></span></span> puts it "redneck is a glorious lack of sophistication!" and I would add; Ever ready with an inexpensive and creative solution, all be it a lazy one.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKs2pjaAfjqtrRCFtF2fxhlCYqe-VZUfDtVvyd-R0TtO6lc7Og2lp-8MXaW6veQLpAgeEpzsvtMT45Oo1U5fCP9n1nbaOACiLcP9VQHM-eBY2aLfRn5HuzIDBlGTJFZ7NL88domt8keQg/s1600-h/redneck+mailbox.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276490232592196098" style="WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKs2pjaAfjqtrRCFtF2fxhlCYqe-VZUfDtVvyd-R0TtO6lc7Og2lp-8MXaW6veQLpAgeEpzsvtMT45Oo1U5fCP9n1nbaOACiLcP9VQHM-eBY2aLfRn5HuzIDBlGTJFZ7NL88domt8keQg/s320/redneck+mailbox.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZRrQykxOlI125uN5XDeaTWdrn6GpzOFZrwiFcQUsJlDbqeogUadHdTSnQvjN5a68bHItWz86OMlgzG9MrF-UkXNlP2QmBEGSFTxpldMEn9CisOnAgeUB8qkbf7zcneMhIYTANi4s7Z8/s1600-h/redneck+counter+weight.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276490075270425826" style="WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 99px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZRrQykxOlI125uN5XDeaTWdrn6GpzOFZrwiFcQUsJlDbqeogUadHdTSnQvjN5a68bHItWz86OMlgzG9MrF-UkXNlP2QmBEGSFTxpldMEn9CisOnAgeUB8qkbf7zcneMhIYTANi4s7Z8/s320/redneck+counter+weight.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Redneck Mailbox<span style="color:#ccffff;">.....</span> Redneck Counterweight<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1KJ_Y_t7_yRaVrXwF1apmN4EoCn5Q5azldMOZiypvfoMxm__UOgZJFkOsVs15RL50VImDtXNnZ8Z36b-KjqXqeaSFgu8umYBNgcXko8jPCnJ7qlcu74_AWKPY6qWT9cuFPFEaPNcExg/s1600-h/red+neck+tree+swing.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276490069754639250" style="WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1KJ_Y_t7_yRaVrXwF1apmN4EoCn5Q5azldMOZiypvfoMxm__UOgZJFkOsVs15RL50VImDtXNnZ8Z36b-KjqXqeaSFgu8umYBNgcXko8jPCnJ7qlcu74_AWKPY6qWT9cuFPFEaPNcExg/s320/red+neck+tree+swing.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qb5-9cfjJEe0siWYClr65gSoVDvB_CsZXmKS66pHN8y_Dy3lLEndCBFCMM5ATsf9d8ksvKDnaiAIpFwIsglVtF-pMWITS45RyowimTB43Pg8uzJwb4dMPpBWJv8MYFeo2D6xJ-KMHis/s1600-h/redneck+satellite+system.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276490077225719698" style="WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qb5-9cfjJEe0siWYClr65gSoVDvB_CsZXmKS66pHN8y_Dy3lLEndCBFCMM5ATsf9d8ksvKDnaiAIpFwIsglVtF-pMWITS45RyowimTB43Pg8uzJwb4dMPpBWJv8MYFeo2D6xJ-KMHis/s320/redneck+satellite+system.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Redneck Swing<span style="color:#ccffff;">.....</span>Redneck Satellite System<br /><br />I got to wondering if we “The Thatcher Clan” are a bunch of rednecks, when we spent our Thanksgiving, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">shootin</span></span></span> skeet, riding motor bikes, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">eatin</span></span></span> at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">bufFETS</span></span></span>, and hearing conversation like this one between the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">younins</span></span></span> and Grandpa;<br /><br />"While ears need to be cleaned regularly, this is a job that should be done in private using one's own truck keys, or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">preferably</span> one's own pen. (NOTE: Pen and or keys, must also be cleaned regularly, because ear wax buildup can short circuit both devices.)"<br /><br />I really started to wonder if it were true, when Shari told me the story of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Lukes</span></span></span>' broken elbow. She said; "Luke fell into an empty swimming pool and that’s how he broke his elbow, Mark called 911. The 911 operator told Mark that she would send someone out right away. "Where are you" asked the operator. Mark replied, "At the end of Eucalyptus Drive." The operator asked, "Can you spell that for me?" There was a long pause and finally Mark said, "How 'bout if I drive him over to Oak Street, and you pick him up there?"<br /><br />So I got on line and took a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">lil</span></span></span> test; here are the results;<br /><br /><div><div><div><div>You know your a redneck if your Christmas ornaments are made out of spent shot-gun shells...... (I have noticed they are RED and GREEN, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">seeins</span></span></span> how we spent most of black Friday <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">shootin</span></span></span>, we may want to check Mark and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Sharis</span></span></span>' Christmas tree for signs of redneck behavior.)</div><div><br />Your hairdo has ever been ruined by a ceiling fan or flight through a blow up gantlet. refer to photo. (OK I have some great photos Mark sent me from our time in Palm Springs, but this Hillbilly, Redneck can't get them to upload. I'll keep trying they are really funny.) </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPgUymB0xZkjMbwSqqJ_3yyNajT_uOFOIo4PLYH8XbzKVkZAiqARSCqbLzNYKb66lL4BX_WyInir-YLUidEVPyGvUhzFvIoylpbVWR0lJ5RXTkrlUVt4UsokasQ4b4pObHKukDa_UV9E4/s1600-h/4.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300995781093655890" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPgUymB0xZkjMbwSqqJ_3yyNajT_uOFOIo4PLYH8XbzKVkZAiqARSCqbLzNYKb66lL4BX_WyInir-YLUidEVPyGvUhzFvIoylpbVWR0lJ5RXTkrlUVt4UsokasQ4b4pObHKukDa_UV9E4/s200/4.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>You know if you’re a redneck if you have ever used the force in conjunction with Thanksgiving. You have ever used a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">lightsaber</span></span></span> to intimidate other grown men and or entertain your wife and children. Again I have photos.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid8yTXKbYoYROO7KOM9LHhXMGvDyYfyMo_EVGtO6wHGhAijDCufr2CRzhAe8q311lkLicef2Y9kFGDAoiOOitQTxWj6EfvX091RVypYOOUjTAhSG-IxY0gOGP1p9Tkm4TjVvpKVEzssfU/s1600-h/playful+banter.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300995780018470082" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid8yTXKbYoYROO7KOM9LHhXMGvDyYfyMo_EVGtO6wHGhAijDCufr2CRzhAe8q311lkLicef2Y9kFGDAoiOOitQTxWj6EfvX091RVypYOOUjTAhSG-IxY0gOGP1p9Tkm4TjVvpKVEzssfU/s200/playful+banter.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>You know your a redneck when your husband's last words were "Hey <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ya'll</span></span></span>, look what I can do!" <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIEbrcbwyR-wId8FTNV6pzPBTEMHogk4w6yO2wnv0y0T1-WRUA92dKmBFQ4xgD6ohZLemCzEYsVEmo4Eo4_dlkIhf-F9kmt1frE_XmY6qgXDSvCRDR1u6PR1J0mmTUey1GF9nvN7uFCU/s1600-h/5.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300995784250845682" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIEbrcbwyR-wId8FTNV6pzPBTEMHogk4w6yO2wnv0y0T1-WRUA92dKmBFQ4xgD6ohZLemCzEYsVEmo4Eo4_dlkIhf-F9kmt1frE_XmY6qgXDSvCRDR1u6PR1J0mmTUey1GF9nvN7uFCU/s200/5.bmp" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ1w2HmAfn18r0rPUKC5nYcfhEnawluZH4Ff1qyhXzgtpyFGcRWWd14meupuiT4BgAai3ow0eKyq9mXMiFzCbLpOxxgoFHlBcQniZT4EOJWjYkn21BVcUub5WaqQIJtjyvHkn9Ec21pE/s1600-h/8.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300995778776336786" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ1w2HmAfn18r0rPUKC5nYcfhEnawluZH4Ff1qyhXzgtpyFGcRWWd14meupuiT4BgAai3ow0eKyq9mXMiFzCbLpOxxgoFHlBcQniZT4EOJWjYkn21BVcUub5WaqQIJtjyvHkn9Ec21pE/s200/8.bmp" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>Your front porch collapses and kills more than three dogs. no photographic evidence on this one.</div><br /><div>OK so there is some evidence that we are......REDNECKS, but I'm not giving up on the illusive sophistication until I see Dave and Mark have mounted a gun rack to their motorcycles! Those ya<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">hoo's</span></span> more than likely have one in their garage, they just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">haven't</span> figured out how to get it to stay.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-39574282020401229342008-11-07T17:11:00.023-07:002008-11-18T16:51:10.184-07:00A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE JAZZ GAME. Music Pick; The Sorcerer's Apprentice<div align="center">Two Beautifully Set Ying and Yangs</div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266112357471572018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3R5L846jID9pV3VGG7K2enCHoCIEKe4UtZUJrPre3ta65TNfmtzp553MlhyphenhyphenJ2ONUz5Vu6O7VgqglwZhCUBc6GhVdbK8Z73Kfsk4jZlkXxl0NVe5sQaqsIiJeBn_e6XMjNBXDaJQcP7d8/s200/689.JPG" border="0" />If you have never felt the desire to lead an orchestra, music may not be your thing, but if you have, you may well relate with Rachel, especially if have stood in front of the fountain at the gateway, and watched the sounds being produced, not only<span style="color:#999999;"> </span><span style="color:#000000;">crescendo</span> with emotion but with geysers of water synchronized to to rise and fall in a magnificent display of a kind of 'water ballet'. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266080938756586722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 118px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuLPmHdqEPA8fWaMscHyNS1SZ4il04XQXK73XueOwq1d1gkmox9jtdPTKP1vvaWdNjb-YGr7qibYkH-QVbkqMevbPsBM6QzaZfex8o2wwqboL_1icg-P98ty6Tzzfg9cYzJT4KZS1mzM/s200/004.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="center">You can probable imagine then, Rachel's arms beginning to find expression, at first in small movements, meant mostly for herself, then as the music gains in confidence so does Rachel and before you know it, everyone else does too, Rachel's leading the orchestra... in a black tie and tales. The conductor is so pleased with her performance she even allows herself a beautiful and gracious bow to the audience (now numbering about 15 people), they all loved the performance and clap with rapture, Rachel's enjoyment swells, as she takes another bow, "thank-you thank-you" she says, all to the great dismay of her older sister Allyse.<br />If even the idea of openly expressing this desire bring to you some discomfort AND EMBARRASSMENT, you relate with Allyse. As this spectacle begins to capture the attention of REAL PEOPLE, of course, Rachel could not have been more pleased, BUT, Allyse.....well, she would have forked over all her money from the tooth fair, birthdays, and begged for quarters, for a MEGA PHONE directly wired to Rachel's ears. "HEY, CRAZY GIRL WITH A PRETEND ORCHESTRA, YOU ARE EMBARRASSING!" To her credit, she kept her thoughts <em>mostly</em> to herself and did what any older sister would do in her place. She moved to a safe unassuming position, next to her Dad, and with a raised eye brow, whispered through the applause, ..............."I think she's been watching too much Conference!"<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOgUnM7DRMA-Sd8pm_qfRHk-cTHwd3OXNSr6x2iATJp8Wgk393zjG3prxakN_t0r0ynPeO9J2KTzftI6adynfk8R7cGaLP7250YPjnk6AFCatzyOBAme1uLZbeSwmNvd5CYd_3KGGoZo/s1600-h/mtcintabernacle1_medium.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266119058038546306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 137px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 92px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOgUnM7DRMA-Sd8pm_qfRHk-cTHwd3OXNSr6x2iATJp8Wgk393zjG3prxakN_t0r0ynPeO9J2KTzftI6adynfk8R7cGaLP7250YPjnk6AFCatzyOBAme1uLZbeSwmNvd5CYd_3KGGoZo/s200/mtcintabernacle1_medium.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-82558045654363615292008-10-18T03:52:00.036-06:002008-10-21T17:26:14.007-06:00CAN'T SLEEP.......music pick: One-- Country<div align="center"><span style="color:#660000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisneXxCeaVXdGMIbdYuoChFLIDo6Bu56DQ1el6u7xcWdjiRTSusRiFdJsNwuCUURB-Tx2tGXSEM9fxmVSHAWwVmyl_bd06pTxqee_4gjxWVc2npsPWLmFdhyeFEPpG9slblhKSrELXrRY/s1600-h/shingbig.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258514588247718082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisneXxCeaVXdGMIbdYuoChFLIDo6Bu56DQ1el6u7xcWdjiRTSusRiFdJsNwuCUURB-Tx2tGXSEM9fxmVSHAWwVmyl_bd06pTxqee_4gjxWVc2npsPWLmFdhyeFEPpG9slblhKSrELXrRY/s400/shingbig.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ff0000;">CAN'T SLEEP!</span><br />I am seeking some kind of resolution to my worries, worries I want desperately, at 2 am to put to bed. Maybe blogging can help.<br /><span style="color:#000066;">THE IDEA:<br /></span>Our Founding Fathers desired a government that would be FOR the people and BY the people. I believe these men to have been inspired of God in the foundation of our nation. The principles they espoused have made the United States a beacon of hope, and a tower of strength, and oh, so very prosperous for over 200 years<br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">FIGURING.....</span><br />I figure the problems of our day are the same as any other time in history. If we boil them down, pride and selfishness rule the roost of our social ills, and have for every other pride cycle in human history, both personal and societal.<br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">MY QUESTION:<br /></span>That is why I find myself awake. None of this (the current state of our nation) is new, and if we believe the constitution to be an inspired document, and the men who framed it to be behind the thoughts and experiences that helped produced such genius, why are we as a nation moving away from and not towards these principles of truth?<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">MY WORRY:<br /></span>Why are we as a nation so willing to abandon the wisdom of our Founding Fathers, for that of our own? Our wisdom is uselessly closer to tyranny, poverty, and oppression, than we have been in over 200 years, and yet so far from the recollection of the same, that it appears we do not know how to avoid it. We say “those who are unwilling to learn from history are doomed to repeat it”.<br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">A POSSIBLE CONCLUSION:</span><br />Disregard the past &.... find better social engineering? It makes no sense. </div><div align="center">I guess you have to ask, "Who do you trust?" The men who lived in tyranny & oppression and ate it's fruits, and then fought with, <span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>their all</strong></span> to correct it, and did so with great success, or this generation of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">politicians,</span> we are crying out to, for more ethics, & integrity, less self serving & more moral fiber. </div><div align="center">Now, does not seem the time to change "UP?"<br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">A POSSIBLE SOLUTION:</span><br />Study....<br /><span style="color:#000099;">NEXT BIG QUESTION:</span><br />Who of our current choices for President of the United States is most closely aligned with the founding fathers? ( I know, and I feel your pain). Maybe this will help. </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff6666;">SAMUEL ADAMS:</span> </div><div align="center">"The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">utopian</span> schemes of leveling [redistribution of the wealth], and a community of goods [central ownership of all the means of production and distribution], are as visionary and impracticable as those which vest all property in the Crown. [These ideas] are arbitrary, despotic, and in our government, unconstitutional."<br /><span style="color:#333399;">THOMAS JEFFERSON<br /></span>“To take from one, because it is thought his own industry and that of his fathers have acquired to much, in order to spare(give) to others, who or whose fathers have not exercised equal industry and skill,is to violate arbitrarily the first principle of association; the guaranty to everyone the free exercise of his industry and the fruits acquired by it.”<br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">ABRAHAM LINCOLN</span><br />“Property is the fruit of labor. Property is desirable. It is a positive good in the world. That some should be rich is to show that others may become rich and hence is just an encouragement to industry and enterprise. Let not he who is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">houseless</span> pull down the house of another, but let him labor diligently and build one for himself and this by example, assuring that his own shall be safe from violence.”<br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">BENJAMIN FRANKLIN</span><br />“When the people find that they can vote themselves money, that will herald the end of the republic.” </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#663300;">.</span></div><div align="center"><strong>I hear The American Dream resonating in these quotes!</strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#663300;">.<br /></span></strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">FINAL THOUGHT:</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">JAMES MADISON</span></div><div align="center">“Knowledge will forever govern ignorance, and a people who mean to be their own governors must arm themselves with the power which knowledge gives.”<br />.<br />I think in the end this is the thought that will help me sleep tonight. Experience has a way of eventually teaching all her students, even if there are some intent on avoiding such knowledge. Let the learning begin. </div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-73059112279472675632008-10-10T19:28:00.016-06:002008-10-11T14:02:48.709-06:00SOME TIMES LIFE FEELS LIKE A GAME SHOW<div align="center">Music Selection; Spanish Flea</div><div align="center">October 10, 2008; I have to get this blog done before the world comes to an end! </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#663300;">..</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#663300;">.</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Today it felt a bit like it was my turn to step onto the stage and see what's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">behind</span> Door#1 .........</div><div align="center">It was Laurens' 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> Birthday.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255751326901448290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeaX8WcsredrV1SGduz_iL5Wdj1b4bqBeScrYHaf8AnOGLcZnR3kFqdaQs2m6uHaTOzTh7b78aWP3-CzOsJhl8oi6fY0Bchn3IKguR9MYcGSbwx_UM5Dr8IPCRJjeCyikI5oEx2G4lmo/s320/006.JPG" border="0" />OK so it is Laurens Birthday, not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Allyse's</span> but she is really ticked off we are not celebrating something for her!</div><div align="center"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Ryland</span> (Laurens Biggest Fan) spent the day with her,getting a make over, going to lunch with her and her friend, and making home-made root beer for a "Lauren Party". </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-K2ZdowtqijpHHh17WkdEEyJDIiruiN61LMc85VCdOYksEUGjIfJQTf2jbPCWibQTqTkOboGboxXdnArqKond-HDh2f6kGdbHfY3BJC8zbH_8faLs6of1jvDfS667lTaKC2JZJ_mUtes/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255751332737403186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-K2ZdowtqijpHHh17WkdEEyJDIiruiN61LMc85VCdOYksEUGjIfJQTf2jbPCWibQTqTkOboGboxXdnArqKond-HDh2f6kGdbHfY3BJC8zbH_8faLs6of1jvDfS667lTaKC2JZJ_mUtes/s320/007.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>THE ROOT BEER!</p><p align="center">Behind Door #2.......... Was A first Date.<br /></p><br /><p align="center">Do your remember your first date? Maybe you would if you had a picture of it. </p><br /><p></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255704029947160402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9RjLso4o82_KajPKvs9lzcEBy5k4hDlpp-e_xU9SRMprYi-CemvdzlrY51KKkm8GLeOUSt0-J_r_9R-RjP16dB5Ekiv6hPfMSyj8885eBhFTxrrgy1d3BqfDR_1qMUGi4vUZKP0vyDo/s320/013.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRrts2oCWIBtIqa701N-4plcam8K7uZOWu9UShj3yrrphKP9NRO9kfoVChyphenhyphenyqm0s1Azj0oa4KJjxiAezM4cUYbDEiTQeusclyfZa7nRXJr0MMxONy-3U1bwu42MIwxbHfcMS8cjWfP1c/s1600-h/012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255750100586008258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRrts2oCWIBtIqa701N-4plcam8K7uZOWu9UShj3yrrphKP9NRO9kfoVChyphenhyphenyqm0s1Azj0oa4KJjxiAezM4cUYbDEiTQeusclyfZa7nRXJr0MMxONy-3U1bwu42MIwxbHfcMS8cjWfP1c/s320/012.JPG" border="0" /></a>Maybe it would really make you mad...... beyond words even, if your Dad & Mom insisted on a photo. But you would for sure remember the date, right? (I had to blog for posterity)! Jake didn't seem to mind. They went rock climbing and it sounds like it went good. Much better than my first date.</div><div align="center">I well remember sitting through the longest Aggie basket ball game of all time, with nothing to say, and then forgetting how to swallow soda, I coughed uncontorable, gasping for air & caused a bit of a scene. I appologized and never dated again. An "edit" button on the lifetime replay would be a nice feature. First dates, what do ya think?</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbIu9WQOq9jgAgXhukzXEihgZ4HCsRva-wZ1QpKdm3du_-xYQrc2_ARCWZWeMcB87Ds7-x_jiEhPajX7Bfynd8fBPeKFR_qSmRmf_eatsoVxwnZy5Bsf6GY8yzMgx3TJyFFCRrv0J210/s1600-h/014.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255750112358798994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbIu9WQOq9jgAgXhukzXEihgZ4HCsRva-wZ1QpKdm3du_-xYQrc2_ARCWZWeMcB87Ds7-x_jiEhPajX7Bfynd8fBPeKFR_qSmRmf_eatsoVxwnZy5Bsf6GY8yzMgx3TJyFFCRrv0J210/s320/014.JPG" border="0" /></a>Here is one last shot of Lauren and her "make over". If you look closely you can see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Allyse</span>......still 'ticked off ' there in the background. </div><div align="center">Family, isn't it great, there is always a new milestone for marking.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuilbD0oOU4BCmWvzM5dye2EeuRliIhijMWvk0shOnLuzVXsDbjlu3GvvF7_0z7KZuLL2KupkiPPF_uwjBIOkU8ygqgIYMZAMLHJAaMBxtvjcfo73BdcuQONBS-T40tyM5IhjhrEKJ5Y/s1600-h/20061029174035_1.jpg"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVYTbS8zz_Vmj_ETvquiW5wwM-7JSNVXTjjxDu8fqA_wlqLLip5yqqzWQaQdwgSmI5f2WtscPHWMwrxu-WXalZ_AXVddyubm-uAvBxh7IAkI2xu9J2QEvwPgavaec_wLJ3_Z9LEai5k8/s1600-h/20061029174035_1.jpg"></a>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-76524165841481855012008-06-17T22:07:00.008-06:002008-11-07T09:44:57.887-07:00Rumpelstiltskin and the Question of Laundry<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWyzQjlq0ihSiOwIeWyxr4tFnRFvZ25UEKoLTHDszI7er_xBTWrkVNqoqUHfNasXVvbZt0FSSUIZsrsKmBuUPXg18k66H_Qm5FCEkNNip43hpZGE4K3EsMtZVRh67q6SpMObO7bv0R-k/s1600-h/LAUNDRY+BASKET+1.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213237988600696642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWyzQjlq0ihSiOwIeWyxr4tFnRFvZ25UEKoLTHDszI7er_xBTWrkVNqoqUHfNasXVvbZt0FSSUIZsrsKmBuUPXg18k66H_Qm5FCEkNNip43hpZGE4K3EsMtZVRh67q6SpMObO7bv0R-k/s320/LAUNDRY+BASKET+1.bmp" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#333333;">Music Pick: Deep River blues OR Dirty Laundry<br />Lee and I don't fight about much…….but the laundry has been in the top 2 reasons for discord for years. <em><strong>Bleach</strong></em> has been the blight (or colorless spot) on my laundry story. (All though it no longer is. It has been banned from the premise.)<br />I've passed on to the big girls the responsibility of sorting, washing, drying, folding and putting away their own laundry, eliminating 3 out of every 8 pairs of pants A DAY!!!, (<strong><em>Staggering, I Know.) </em></strong>Let's see, 8 pairs of pants x 7 days a week = 56 add on to that 2 sweat pants (work out clothing) 5 times a week <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">equaling</span> 66 and Sunday extras for a grand total of 74 items of clothing per week, <strong><em>just for the bottom ½ of my family.</em></strong> Even if the minus 3 pairs of pant per day is mostly theoretical, the concept is comforting.<br />Needless to say, Joy, even <strong><em>if</em></strong> the laundry comes out smelling great, is not a word found in sentences I’d use to describe the feelings I have when walking into a room full of laundry. The words are more like "Spin all this launder into gold by morning or you will.....….. <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">DIE</span></strong>.” I look around for my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rumpelstiltskin</span>, thinking “yes, yes I think I could give up a child …..for the greater good”. But the funny little man flying on a cooking spoon never shows up. Leaving me with mountains of straw, (unsorted, of course) and a spinning wheel (with a killer spin cycle) that will occacionaly knocks the liquid laundry soap on to the floor, and then spreads into a sticky blue & slippery mess. (With no guess work, you know the floor has piles of dirty AND CLEAN laundry on it, don’t you)?<br />The women in the story of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Rumpelstiltskin</span> makes off with a marriage to the King, (no way of telling how that went), except to say, he did want to kill her if she did not perform the task, of spining straw into gold, (she probable tried using bleach to do the task.) on the other hand…….. she was never asked to spin straw into gold again, (possibly an additional consequence of the bleach fiasco) OR………well this is my great question to you. How did she get out of the "spinning of the straw"? Or did she? If you love laundry, HOW, HOW, HOW?<br />All I have left to say is; If you happen to see the funny little man on the cooking spoon, would you please get his name and then send him over to my house, (dawn is fast aproaching)! </span></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-2627344681104927992008-06-05T11:14:00.050-06:002008-11-07T09:46:55.500-07:00SOMETHING TO ENJOY<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1R5xZLNsjH8MGqmiChWSrZ_dSj7PmekZNQRtcRJdHes3iWumfeZhdvlzdVyGpv943_A6WvDflvegqNVzm1uqO1nPc9e0JMVcynufPJuBuId_hHIG8TICbZrf-oCf0fPRvARbCgxrJm74/s1600-h/HPIM1441%5B1%5D"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#3333ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208465449970133650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1R5xZLNsjH8MGqmiChWSrZ_dSj7PmekZNQRtcRJdHes3iWumfeZhdvlzdVyGpv943_A6WvDflvegqNVzm1uqO1nPc9e0JMVcynufPJuBuId_hHIG8TICbZrf-oCf0fPRvARbCgxrJm74/s400/HPIM1441%5B1%5D" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><span style="color:#336666;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">I know she is mine, but don't you just think she is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">beautiful</span></span>. Can I share a little bit of her with you? Lauren, went looking for the music from her favortie movie Pride And Prejudice. She found it and we of course bought it and it's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">loveliness</span> has satisfied our want for refinement, some 4 and 20 days. (Can you tell we have been watching Pride and Prejudice, not just the latest version but the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PBS</span> extended 3 disc <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">series</span> as well.) Check out a few of our favorites from the sound track. Start with L<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">iz</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> On Top Of The World, (It's my personal favorite) and then listen on to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Georgiana</span> if you could use a stress buster. </span></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#336666;"><strong>Two things h<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">appen</span> when I hear this little beauty playing-a-way in my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">teenagers</span>' room. First, I am so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">grateful</span> to have such a delightful child in our home. She clearly can <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">discern</span> <em>good </em>from <em>evil</em> AND the <em>exceptional</em> from the <em>mundane</em>. She quietly teaches, patience, kindness, and the best of all.......<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">living</span> in the details. I often find Lauren taking an extra moment to watch a potato bug roll around in R<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ylands</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> hands, or not just <em>listening</em> to a story Rachel's telling, but <em>laughing</em> with her. Some how her goodness cancels out some of the badness around her.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><span style="color:#336666;">The music she is listening to is masterful, and in her very own 'still in process' kind of way so is Lauren. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">I'm quite certain Lauren will find her very own Mr. Darcy some day. (English accent <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">required</span> for reading that last <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">sentence</span>.)</span></span></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><span style="color:#336666;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">The</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">se</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">cond</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> thing that happens is..... gratitude as well. The more I hear this lovely little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">piece</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> (Liz On Top Of The World</span>), the more I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">marvel</span> at it's ability to contrast the good and bad of human emotions and produce a feeling of victory over the willful condition we call mortality. It fills me with joy! I am left feeling so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">grateful</span></span> for a Father in Heaven, who knew and loved me so much he gave me ears, a heart, music and LAUREN, so He could show me things Divine, even so He could show me Himself, in a round about s</span></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhks8JJoDRQ-z-OvYYL3Fyt3ncDJfzLOxK26l-zMDT4ZZEPs1MpXwYgLyaIHqsa2so5YE8Kp0Yb0lTeu-zhvmjwI45u5RqNMeJvPtHevWO10rXraiLBhFAl7UoBQwxbqVj1bQ1cJ0MTmNU/s1600-h/Tree.jpg"></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#336666;"><strong>o</strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjokrhZWpgx_hvHeyxy4FQ4x6ELGYvBBnJxTyw8eW39odFMmaLIjs9cVnE9427PKg9zG6Pn4KGNHAuNRW71ayaan_KwxLeJHWCcPBoTBW4aX_JDNAOjPja_8bmPnsfZnb4pdZ2wv5JC6PI/s1600-h/HPIM1432%5B1%5D"></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#336666;"><strong>rt of way. I'm not sure what Lauren is learning form listening, but to be sure I am learning from her.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#99ffff;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#33ccff;"></span><span style="color:#3366ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208465464053957794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MYWxsQEEdoP9qmyc6TuijfhjQbmLbveDd8GU0EZBbwnwJbqW7H1djneLT75opL1N5Ty1MKj-uWSZSWNIHQcGwrq3FbNlxAGVMNRcYia1hHHahDO311HnMzEn493qiG4WZ1RjslF0fyY/s400/HPIM1433%5B1%5D" border="0" /></span> </div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-47957791601825674892008-05-19T15:03:00.014-06:002008-10-27T08:23:58.247-06:00<div align="center"><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">MUSIC PICK: The Chicken Dance</span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It's a <em>mother </em>goat. She is really very pregnant. You can see it in her crazed eyes.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202205800688550098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiroRXyy2ImtpVmdG9-tRgaT9esycUeN7kop0t3HpgD0Zqpatt_8dLt77dA1T83cuV4uA4nv4Fc5dnT2QF0__ZcYrXpHz4mmvEjrkqCGH7DwbAJa-SNO4_9qqW3ny-F8k7OVAfM78CD6M/s400/070.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Can she be touched. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Allyse</span> has learned to question <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">carefully</span> form <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">experience</span> with her own pregnant mother</span>.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202205809278484706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lsMRQLx4RhNc-84pb_1dio6GoyUscRyxo23BKWRwMoVBRQEp5h7v4swdJxs4212q9s6qOb2xLj6VttnO7CqNDaLPjJDh64yE9e9aKKmpKI5vRlXLyWzY6JKcwYj47HB1mrqtcCSHtZE/s400/062.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HV5a_IyxdBl-vdjzv5vA5XaQGRWBeiuQARu24kyPlsDBotJTyz66i5KvOWB3HmNhhwe1o3i5b_yDGCfTaHtSAP8M7vm56oRzZwzYBcCdJsOQJoWKF7UyFVFa5jHWcK368iRRe56ghSw/s1600-h/049.JPG"></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Is she OK with me holding her? <em><strong>Am I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ok</span> with holding her?</strong></em></span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202233550472249762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4S8yxWn4Yp6q5p9zPcAdBo2Oh0uGBI-knSqcHnqBGdY7GoBwzamjMa20RQPn1D_mSA3Hk5uEYK1GKRZOBMgJHq_Jyt9TuJnbp1qKocPa-TQKFHFdMd77zRgMfzEvWspF3N1F_XSLVtAQ/s400/048.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Hey, I'm holding a squirmy chick.</span> </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202233554767217074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rFd2C6h37IGAnx63CWtGUbATkT8dfUpiJaa4knvXp5ECeOt3fYnFzHTwwn5pNYQxYL7usrVp7B4_g4rbYNnkTRmo5LZzl8hamQnS5BvP1_6zYh71jq9JvVOC9z7UMW7iNSbBd7-puvw/s400/045.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Bishops get all the service, and joy.</span> </p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9jRjDbPtN5vl-EXqWqJs2Nza6ZL1iZiNfDp0A6KhlNPUl9HkR520TqnV_slH5UT7gLEe8aGzm-ilWvIczicCQ9-XNcSB3Px_saYkhrpcHzSOskwvsR4rwU7jDDV2DwSiWjNvAF79BodE/s1600-h/043.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202207518675468610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9jRjDbPtN5vl-EXqWqJs2Nza6ZL1iZiNfDp0A6KhlNPUl9HkR520TqnV_slH5UT7gLEe8aGzm-ilWvIczicCQ9-XNcSB3Px_saYkhrpcHzSOskwvsR4rwU7jDDV2DwSiWjNvAF79BodE/s400/043.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Pain? no Joy? no..... I don't know, just give me the bird.</span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202205813573452018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGfOAez7Q4TcFOHdpvu1AVoG8Bc80HFlj5Dbp-MhM7ZMiZYkOUSZxErAjI2xU3m71HfjOXHtPExgJgZE7axwxHt_VAntj2IVPzW7P21qyRjP1mFXX8e3KcBL790Qbf0j_Hw8QTgvLlEw/s400/050.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Here it goes!</span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202233533292380530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMSHVoo21GPfkAnHLB1-2V7WxU6iwFIjHuEv_9AHS5-8FOARLCxmO6Vo_l-g3CPRQPLiZWRGVreTDKMs7r170nUS-4z_70TPne6hZZWvYdm_B2pkzykxUggytqrqPgu2cFeB6VdFu5DA/s400/067.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">I will smile if you make me, but hurry please.</span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202233537587347842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYkWLIuLM4NPlVlt6H4zNe2tYHOlTH3CAItxPuqSfxOnhzC-6KE8wWJabvrGkEx1Tow_uQDGTAd5Zo7AJnOxtDYYpngUTJSF_RpBigbGHy9SagLbwOD4IWAAcbNMdnF6tZSUDpw9GNR_o/s400/075.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202233546177282450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbNKdx4rHNEb7yGbR9_G1us4XKurwc_1ZlfmuaeQyfDuz0hj2jPRlpdMJg_cwtzhW4EfAqCs1Iyyq89quqSi16No9zxJzEfORsHjsanEsU-OPaqm5e41gqvEeqCK1Y36nrm58meTEcd4/s400/073.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">I can see why Fern fell in love with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Wilbour</span></span>.<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0GjTxB8rzNycFjryqpQRXbLFLMLkufQexE7X9PNZT7oCuSw35Zl9x5BHfVirwZiPUlHhoqkQPhLcLt8BUtwxEkN1BYuSv0NQ6xh8I8CvEtwzyRtcvUtXJkyN00FkcknIntUY8Jju728c/s1600-h/033.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202207522970435922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0GjTxB8rzNycFjryqpQRXbLFLMLkufQexE7X9PNZT7oCuSw35Zl9x5BHfVirwZiPUlHhoqkQPhLcLt8BUtwxEkN1BYuSv0NQ6xh8I8CvEtwzyRtcvUtXJkyN00FkcknIntUY8Jju728c/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">You can't possibly enjoy this as much as i do. THIS IS <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">SOOOO</span> RACHEL. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202205813573452034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90QmvhXb8XgkPRxJ_nZ4S3y1q38sw-J9Rp2ckasNfMq__UWrEJvBn1KGlen_VUGzy_41rN6_91wad7ISRj3VplXtx6o97HJBd5yAk1tj06oeDDBVE8se-RNq-BOoZNcyOpJDuxZx0B4M/s400/035.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></span><span style="font-family:arial;">No words needed. Don't ya wish all pictures could do this.</span> </p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszye9kgQ97wrIgavjO95omkO9nAtmA0r1esa76uz7FZcwpytlORsGyuqRvOM4dv-UofXAh8RmNsZiOT_uwehSBZ-6Pm2mIuGyhKYi517kog-E7upQEX8gNCkub7wLVsJ1SnVCL1rMS0E/s1600-h/037.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202207531560370530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszye9kgQ97wrIgavjO95omkO9nAtmA0r1esa76uz7FZcwpytlORsGyuqRvOM4dv-UofXAh8RmNsZiOT_uwehSBZ-6Pm2mIuGyhKYi517kog-E7upQEX8gNCkub7wLVsJ1SnVCL1rMS0E/s400/037.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbI9SZx2_ZntuT61VG-H13YWjuZUQqeh7ZCz8WQqq_vZD4cxkPhzX2mrbSrTFXcjUFZYoREq7xamZ-wa9oxFMWGCkiJ9xGfb5DXLdbMmnE_2c9w6IfrUgTLdaR-PodkZVWnOvmhuyAxo/s1600-h/032.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202205817868419346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbI9SZx2_ZntuT61VG-H13YWjuZUQqeh7ZCz8WQqq_vZD4cxkPhzX2mrbSrTFXcjUFZYoREq7xamZ-wa9oxFMWGCkiJ9xGfb5DXLdbMmnE_2c9w6IfrUgTLdaR-PodkZVWnOvmhuyAxo/s400/032.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"> Some folks wish for a boat or a luxury vacation. We want a FARM.<br /></span><br /><br /></span></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-87102814809542898252008-05-19T09:20:00.013-06:002008-05-19T14:52:28.438-06:00WELLSVILLE MILE<div align="left">Music Pick: Eye Of The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tiger</span> (of course)</span></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjhrRV7hvddUPf-Iw8cBO8uPlytdW5LLyGJsXgtb1_4MuRPyDm962nnHX2R88S9xv_vaV3gVCJVI8aDc5sf2BfzSq2R1AMLp-Jotzo5yPRG43g4ZPfas4ye9muEvwYgsWPJ6CPkjVBQU/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+247.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202115318612525202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjhrRV7hvddUPf-Iw8cBO8uPlytdW5LLyGJsXgtb1_4MuRPyDm962nnHX2R88S9xv_vaV3gVCJVI8aDc5sf2BfzSq2R1AMLp-Jotzo5yPRG43g4ZPfas4ye9muEvwYgsWPJ6CPkjVBQU/s400/Wellsville+Mile+247.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"> GET READY<br /></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202118587082637474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckdqACq0g5noXUiod03CTt2Ij5dsve40SzqxduvZqHXmBzjccDxNmPU9chWD7c5Pe_Nz-uZtlS5pU8xX8XpY6W4W2rsla8GMuB_bwcX8jixHDTsBVPzdj14zEsIdJpDFKjP3wgDWDBlQ/s400/Wellsville+Mile+248.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:180%;">GET SET</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202118591377604786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVhBq1TqGz6ls_VGjR1TjNHhuTV5RGrBaQOrFi9MfTNGvhDhu4Sm99jtvlUT4arei7dysYZAN0aFg1yJr3D7LY2DCBGAHWooga1EFqP4fZmkY6ScUSDQ1WpCWN5-aDhl3zLqLcxWYJVc/s400/Wellsville+Mile+262.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:180%;">GO!!!!!!!!</span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMGlQUi7kz8wI7vrZH4ava4Mb625OyuW-y10Hbilb2ZWBd686CyMZ9-sKjHUqben387du4xRqfwZ_dVAm5v_JfVUeafB6J7HpgezKwZ1B8J-nXK5UclbX23BEMY54TMehyphenhyphenlJcKdr7ZrU/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+241.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202111947063197682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMGlQUi7kz8wI7vrZH4ava4Mb625OyuW-y10Hbilb2ZWBd686CyMZ9-sKjHUqben387du4xRqfwZ_dVAm5v_JfVUeafB6J7HpgezKwZ1B8J-nXK5UclbX23BEMY54TMehyphenhyphenlJcKdr7ZrU/s200/Wellsville+Mile+241.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The A<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">doring</span></span></span> Fans<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDtE03N_cnDfWyBqnM2AwvuBLG1TzuOvHf6_Y6UmiZtkTR50K5hA-pwc71V2vHtWAxTozkesjx_-_NpEud9-NYDvfjborUkstbBlextPpeEg__srQDnd_rpk-9hWNPsIu1jR54GH5GVY/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+243.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBL7M-sQ4FDDEHyPvVJlS7BLUxdN0wMlUSGwCbH790qIsl20IY_rPPilnty4wbnJiryUZ9_lVFu-b8OpzT64-T2f0MssAWM_P0ubvFws1fwYfIsCHsDAx_p25w4GNSi8QDALOFhSujf9M/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+245.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202111951358164994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBL7M-sQ4FDDEHyPvVJlS7BLUxdN0wMlUSGwCbH790qIsl20IY_rPPilnty4wbnJiryUZ9_lVFu-b8OpzT64-T2f0MssAWM_P0ubvFws1fwYfIsCHsDAx_p25w4GNSi8QDALOFhSujf9M/s200/Wellsville+Mile+245.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Future <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Wellsville</span></span> Miler<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJB2EOwsbQc0AeSh9YLrW_OAv5zu3I1IJq8VyHxD4AYNBVACPYOJ1xL3zNKluY4xH2m5_A2VeZlkmdZmaX0XHBaKET8mPVrPEr2JqBNSiW_cnGpbI_FQe0pYZhBADOWh9aymC4GHgw5x8/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+247.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj729TrJ1AO21t3xba6LEs5BmtN9BTLahuo1Qph545nAwdygEB-yw95Xk0Mpj7acyyC5YMMhCnfZQNHS9mma9VUmAt5cSS1_b0Zu7xitiVfYE74PeTbxOURNJRX9hyphenhypheneTEBKpkxy8W2soI0/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+248.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2s1iblK_uQABMQKvY-hvnqeSwEKrkba01jGlkwq9dzixsW0J9prOyJqcDwfrninHI4abfNacBfZDQXJaSemiiDI9f8l8h4D4APHEYcMedF8yE0yfq7mohgNFQQWqyiKZVhFgM_urGYY/s1600-h/Wellsville+Mile+251.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202112720157311042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2s1iblK_uQABMQKvY-hvnqeSwEKrkba01jGlkwq9dzixsW0J9prOyJqcDwfrninHI4abfNacBfZDQXJaSemiiDI9f8l8h4D4APHEYcMedF8yE0yfq7mohgNFQQWqyiKZVhFgM_urGYY/s200/Wellsville+Mile+251.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="center">(Ryland <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">caught</span> the vision of it all and just couldn't help himself. It didn't seem to matter he was headed the wrong way.)<br /></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202120283594719426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTowZ2GS8h3hea8Q2qTVmXNAuKM8GVXVt1fGCkXQXAU4XcQwOtntMVuH07iYPvf6-Zx8WBHGO-8nYup_Lt37QoLfXcx2pGMHhZwdoJLwcjkQej3OTWB7jjFh7jHO8UFh-mRoJ7S41Z-r0/s400/Wellsville+Mile+271.JPG" border="0" /> The final score 8.35 or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">something</span> close to that. </p><p align="center"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kensey</span></span> could really love running. She looks forward to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Wellsville</span> Mile for months as they train. Then I get reminders 'daily' for weeks. I love how she enjoys the challenge. She must have some of Aunt Laura in her.</p><p align="center">It was not her best time and not even as good as last year. But she didn't seem to mind. For now the best friend and the sack lunch are at least half the fun.</p>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-87759169125607934632008-05-16T14:44:00.014-06:002008-10-13T11:13:36.558-06:00A VASE TO REMEMBER<p align="left"><br /> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoJN_5nng2to4fwg1BXiCi2HxyiK2X7_dpoNEB1gC0MUSicZOTV81I-LwfqhWVwtUTxnt4VR9F-UyglcIol2fFN7Yb4rtdEh04FGJt9qnYhLKWYQGY8ItBXZiP_FTsNvrp-j8hTHwN4c/s1600-h/P1010635.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201081494214573938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoJN_5nng2to4fwg1BXiCi2HxyiK2X7_dpoNEB1gC0MUSicZOTV81I-LwfqhWVwtUTxnt4VR9F-UyglcIol2fFN7Yb4rtdEh04FGJt9qnYhLKWYQGY8ItBXZiP_FTsNvrp-j8hTHwN4c/s400/P1010635.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusCmJMQLMfPuR8zTUuv8Pip6Ws8HUoDUrB8l1A8sLvDpOwzwJYbx5HsyyBvgeKut0gQBMRtAi35_YIQMwD_e2TFaAlWjXCWaJ2kIqkoa519W96biH4aduGtWEzov3S7kMWlFCctwCAek/s1600-h/P1010480.JPG"></a>A single tulip, short <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">stemmed</span>, and in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">exquisite</span> milk jug vase, full (well almost full) of life giving water. If only the stem........ <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Dandelions,</span> are of course a mothers <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">favorite</span> flower. But THIS is my favorite vase. I love to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">imagine</span> the little hands that took such care in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">preparing</span> this very everyday kind of gift, that to a mom is anything but.<br /><br /></div><div align="center">(Never fear it wasn't too long before the lovely bloom found the water.)<br /></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201096230247366546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIP-ELvWddflwNw1HBsoFcnEqQGhO0if1Mpy0JCd92AtbiAZOepw04042afVatv6cddtPfDFWjxnOtZiWVLh79NfeTAgS8X9ROgwWwpc1RY5WyN1jS0qKfQYbX1_ix4m_sSmV5v04ttQ/s200/P1010639.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHM5GaYNI80sht35pYbSaMrxiKpfQBA6iPcdgiyT7OFCwntqym_ds-ZYVsZ3ySo3x4A1wdwPBoyEFw1a_m7n4lBFqm7fNmW1NjQJZRQSpvurKY1n8KoqRux9SQ-3w0pKNRnI5Tzt7xxj8/s1600-h/P1010639.JPG"></a>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-38368600284559927582008-05-14T11:04:00.046-06:002008-05-15T21:20:36.635-06:00PLEASE?<span style="color:#ffcc33;">MUSIC; A REAL MUST with this one, It's... LOAN ME A DIME by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Boz</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Scaggs</span></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="color:#999900;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Some conversations you just wish you could save forever</span>.<br /></span><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2piiskBUmCsQ8-IkZOv0Kdo9a1WGb37VYqzV66GEb03gP1PaFDq8fXv6fPL9TCZ3Bww58ShWFm6Oy0oM2DUg3uyzNmY5B9Naqub29HC4k_JRQgeZsGZ1aITHG3kk23WIpbqo1uyKj1U/s1600-h/HPIM2006%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200700826968161842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2piiskBUmCsQ8-IkZOv0Kdo9a1WGb37VYqzV66GEb03gP1PaFDq8fXv6fPL9TCZ3Bww58ShWFm6Oy0oM2DUg3uyzNmY5B9Naqub29HC4k_JRQgeZsGZ1aITHG3kk23WIpbqo1uyKj1U/s200/HPIM2006%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> "MOM<span style="font-size:85%;">,(<em>with puppy dog eyes or shall we call them 'polar bear eyes', they seem to have a great effect on peoples emotions.)</em></span> will you buy me a "NICE<span style="font-size:85%;">........<span style="font-size:78%;">WAIT FOR IT</span><em>..................</em></span>RAT"(yes, he wants a RAT, why not a kitten or even a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hamster</span>?)<br /><br /><br />and then he begins using all his powers of persuasion. (I swear he had this music playing)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_0I1C0neGJ9iPJdH1UJZQtlSl735TayNCW5Xd31w4SAycL4VZE74tUv-F_CM7rZPtOU-fHeA4ClxqMNZ9UBzPaeqx-JyqCqteUtsn41NEwGTYhNDLzl1Wp-hF1sdQ9xF718Je3J4LhY/s1600-h/HPIM2017%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200704353136311922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_0I1C0neGJ9iPJdH1UJZQtlSl735TayNCW5Xd31w4SAycL4VZE74tUv-F_CM7rZPtOU-fHeA4ClxqMNZ9UBzPaeqx-JyqCqteUtsn41NEwGTYhNDLzl1Wp-hF1sdQ9xF718Je3J4LhY/s200/HPIM2017%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>Mom, he will be a nice RAT. He will not have teeth. He will not poop, and not pee.............. actually, I will let him pee in our toilet.<br />"You will?"<br />"Ya, mom."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbs4LAm8LGpW46OASxI7GbshU4HtAaA7LRVCDBBlyN69b9y6PYOIXEjcT4LSap4QS4ZkZipX-qirRFselEWZOoHk3qCjZdl4i2vIdDX-2T-f_gAsdMeKyxmm2PaojQ_0GpJK_4gPgB-IU/s1600-h/HPIM1998%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200737415794556642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbs4LAm8LGpW46OASxI7GbshU4HtAaA7LRVCDBBlyN69b9y6PYOIXEjcT4LSap4QS4ZkZipX-qirRFselEWZOoHk3qCjZdl4i2vIdDX-2T-f_gAsdMeKyxmm2PaojQ_0GpJK_4gPgB-IU/s200/HPIM1998%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>"How will you do that?"<br />(refer to photo)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3EIDa5CKfBO1M1X7ItjYd93WAr9vEGXnocrtCUl16XioM8Bl3M7j7z2zV8zcmTQfaGStaRXBBRuGd7Qj50d3WalY653uQY-mF5yDH6gc2Kg7kqmth-__vGgjFW9CiPTya6a4sm8jv8Q/s1600-h/HPIM2013%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200698589290200610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3EIDa5CKfBO1M1X7ItjYd93WAr9vEGXnocrtCUl16XioM8Bl3M7j7z2zV8zcmTQfaGStaRXBBRuGd7Qj50d3WalY653uQY-mF5yDH6gc2Kg7kqmth-__vGgjFW9CiPTya6a4sm8jv8Q/s200/HPIM2013%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>"I will put him in a box with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">SEEZ</span>".<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3EIDa5CKfBO1M1X7ItjYd93WAr9vEGXnocrtCUl16XioM8Bl3M7j7z2zV8zcmTQfaGStaRXBBRuGd7Qj50d3WalY653uQY-mF5yDH6gc2Kg7kqmth-__vGgjFW9CiPTya6a4sm8jv8Q/s1600-h/HPIM2013%5B1%5D"></a><br />"What is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">seez</span>?" I ask<br />"Mom, say t......<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">eez</span> <strong><em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">teez</span></em></strong>!"<br />I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">finally</span> catch on....<br />"Oh, you mean Cheese"<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBbxYxgjObZUW78Af7x-6EJ3tPA2h1zi2hf5soTi5zIm5RgjeP2w80-Sk5_D9R0QKFBdakahHDqu3oyrJScfVqmvBBOO374oiFO9SSqhF90ML6tspokAuDEfIThOmm9gF-CswiaFV7l0/s1600-h/HPIM1984%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200709343888309906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBbxYxgjObZUW78Af7x-6EJ3tPA2h1zi2hf5soTi5zIm5RgjeP2w80-Sk5_D9R0QKFBdakahHDqu3oyrJScfVqmvBBOO374oiFO9SSqhF90ML6tspokAuDEfIThOmm9gF-CswiaFV7l0/s200/HPIM1984%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>"Ya," and he will eat <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">seez</span>."<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xbVKOjR9iNZV8pPjuISV6JVdanEVTqVmhvozkURBvc4S9e7RPZL7UNRbeDzQ3KbpWgXfW36on3W3msRzgKYgcg2yylpJn9Gusk6gV625cktflquFsFJ8D_CpWjbeRMjbkWAe33-2Q8c/s1600-h/HPIM2016%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200709352478244514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xbVKOjR9iNZV8pPjuISV6JVdanEVTqVmhvozkURBvc4S9e7RPZL7UNRbeDzQ3KbpWgXfW36on3W3msRzgKYgcg2yylpJn9Gusk6gV625cktflquFsFJ8D_CpWjbeRMjbkWAe33-2Q8c/s200/HPIM2016%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> He will not do anything. He will just walk and walk on your hand and up to your shoulder and he will just <em><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">tickle</span></em> you.<br /><br />"I don't know <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNgXvz7heazTJ8gfubh2RLaip9NSNHD1U0T1-0ItzZlTbJZS5aCrgbWjOFQ0kvOjuTLIi67wVrALq5AU1BY5D34mkr0TBNn8d2nvWd_pQWxZmbI_-f1-Wnowfq0_bA3AYBHO0EmJ0jrI/s1600-h/HPIM1982%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200718019722247874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNgXvz7heazTJ8gfubh2RLaip9NSNHD1U0T1-0ItzZlTbJZS5aCrgbWjOFQ0kvOjuTLIi67wVrALq5AU1BY5D34mkr0TBNn8d2nvWd_pQWxZmbI_-f1-Wnowfq0_bA3AYBHO0EmJ0jrI/s200/HPIM1982%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>Ry.......a RAT?"<br /><br /><br />"I TOLD YOU MOM, HE WILL BE A NICE RAT."<br /><br />Now, I ask you .........IS THERE ANY OTHER KIND?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xbVKOjR9iNZV8pPjuISV6JVdanEVTqVmhvozkURBvc4S9e7RPZL7UNRbeDzQ3KbpWgXfW36on3W3msRzgKYgcg2yylpJn9Gusk6gV625cktflquFsFJ8D_CpWjbeRMjbkWAe33-2Q8c/s1600-h/HPIM2016%5B1%5D"></a>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-25944673110475283272008-04-21T08:54:00.007-06:002008-04-21T09:08:48.273-06:00ICEING LOVE (THESE EYES music pick) top song to the right<embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 320px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-16.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&il=1&channel=2161727821147296534&site=widget-16.slide.com"></embed> <div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=2161727821147296534&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-16.slide.com/p1/2161727821147296534/bb_t041_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=2161727821147296534&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-16.slide.com/p2/2161727821147296534/bb_t041_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /></a></div><br /><p><em><span style="color:#ff6600;">Come to think of it, I think I have seen this before. Lee at his favorite restaurant, Hamiltons.</span></em></p><p>Lee found this camera, hanging on the fence after a year in the sun and snow. I thought all was lost, plugged it in and found this. Like old journal entries, it was like living a moment from the past. I've also added a post that's gone unpublished because I had no picture for it.</p><p>Warning this post may contain elements of potty humor. Sometimes I wish I had Lee's job, Sometimes he wishes he had mine. For example, this morning Lee came home unexpectedly, & then found himself on the bed watching a little Charlie and Lola with Ryland & Rachel and commented on how great it would be if this was his job. I hadn't noticed Ryland was gone until we heard a voice from the bathroom down the hall. It was Ryland perched from atop the toilet and yelling unabashed "Mom I need your help" Lee looked at me and said "what's that all about"? That is Ryland needing me to.......dare I say wipe his bum. Lee just started howling, it was hilarious for some reason. Then another holler from the bathroom "Mom" he barked through a sliver of an opening in the door, all while still perched."I need your help". I'm coming Ryland, " You are still wiping his bum?" Lee chuckles, "Ya and it ain't no fun neither" was my response. I'm not sure who was wanting who's job at that moment, but I must add that as unpleasant as it can be, there comes a well earned installment of love, safely tucked into the hearts of those who wipe bums and such, that feeds the soul. I really do love my job. It hasn't come easy or fast but it is coming. </p>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-449440556385639442008-03-31T09:44:00.004-06:002008-04-01T12:21:49.468-06:00Check out my Slide Show!<embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 320px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-7f.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&il=1&channel=2161727821145450879&site=widget-7f.slide.com"></embed><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;">Music Pick: Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride</span><br />Hey, It's April and one year from now we will have the Hukilau Option. Can't wait!<br /><div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=2161727821145450879&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-7f.slide.com/p1/2161727821145450879/bb_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=2161727821145450879&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-7f.slide.com/p2/2161727821145450879/bb_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /></a></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-8380616754363988362008-03-28T18:10:00.044-06:002008-03-31T18:56:27.500-06:00THE JUNE CLEAVER IN ME<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJEYYVLqC2SFXIShSkgYIPW8xBR2nuu8fe4cpO3Pr2DBFBy2RXvFrpi0WZrKQRgblxUgQDhIOnJixoXwvpnXuUSdXb2jyfmyp2a_dmBB2HG6XSdSf0PoO2RQuIxUHkf9lm1C1WE1QoRQ/s1600-h/WOMAN+THINKING+2.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183010286683836338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJEYYVLqC2SFXIShSkgYIPW8xBR2nuu8fe4cpO3Pr2DBFBy2RXvFrpi0WZrKQRgblxUgQDhIOnJixoXwvpnXuUSdXb2jyfmyp2a_dmBB2HG6XSdSf0PoO2RQuIxUHkf9lm1C1WE1QoRQ/s320/WOMAN+THINKING+2.bmp" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Music Pick: Music for Children's' Activities</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff99ff;">OK if you are not trying out the music you are missing out! (They match)</span></em></strong> </span><br /><div><div><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff99ff;">H</span></strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ey</span></span></span>, what if you had a great recipe....<strong><em>you where keeping all to yourself?</em></strong>I think that would be bad! It's Friday night and I'm sick to death of my own cooking. </div><div></div><div><span style="color:#663300;">.</span></div><div></div><div>The June Cleaver in me wants to trade recipes. So I'll start. </div><div><span style="color:#663333;">.</span></div><div></div><div>Easy Sausage Bake OK ,that's no good for a name, let's call it Sausage Florentine. The thing I love about this is that I can keep most of it on hand. A kind of food storage user-upper. That and my family raves when I make it. They say things like "this really does taste good", like they are surprised it could.</div><div></div><div><span style="color:#663300;">.</span></div><div><span style="color:#663300;">.</span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;">Sausage Florentine</span> </div><div>1 Bag Egg Noodles (Prepare according to package instructions)</div></div><div><div>2 Jars Spaghetti Sauce (one you love) 2 jars because it can get dry</div><div>2 lbs (or to taste) Italian Sausage (keep some in the freezer)</div><div>1 cup Parmesan Cheese (keeps in the fridge forever0</div><div>3 eggs</div><div>5 Green Onion sliced</div><div>2 cups <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ricotta</span> Cheese (cottage cheese works great too)<br />Instructions: Cook sausage and add to Spaghetti Sauce </div><div>Add eggs to cooked noodles along with the cheese and onions</div><div>Layer the noodles then the sauce and ricotta cheese twice, then</div><div>top with a little cheese and bake till it bubbles. About 30 min. Tip: For smaller <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">families</span> divide in half and freeze one.</div><div><span style="color:#330000;">.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;">BBQ CHICKEN PIZZA</span></div><div>1 BAG FROZEN BREAD DOUGH</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">1 ROASTED</span> CHICKEN </div><div>BBQ SAUCE YOU LOVE</div><div>1 ONION SLICED & <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">SAUTEED</span> </div><div>MOZZARELLA CHEESE</div><div>Thaw out bread dough, and roll out in desired shape</div><div>cover with BBQ sauce, add shredded or diced roasted chicken, onions, and cheese. cook at 475 till done.</div><div>.</div><div><span style="color:#cc33cc;">REVIEW:</span> Check our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ltjallys</span>' recipe for enchiladas in the comment section of this post. We gave them a wirl and they we're <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">FABULOUS</span>. Whats more is, I roasted 6 chicken <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">breast</span> on Sunday use 1/2 for BBQ Pizza and the other 1/2 for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Lauras' </span> Enchiladas on Monday! love it. LEAVE ONE OF YOUR FAVORITES THERE TOO.</div><div><span style="color:#330000;">.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffcccc;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffcccc;"></span></div><div><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">PS Is it odd that my hair is looking <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">alot</span></span> </span>like Junes' here?</span></em></div><div></div><div><br /></div><br /><div></div></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-16129057200378704272008-03-27T16:29:00.019-06:002008-03-28T00:12:42.037-06:00THESE OLD KEYS<span style="font-size:85%;">Music Pick: New Sole (it's perfect)</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnioIvc0NlU-T0DgJkpFupZh1_exBmNo4cxdJwCleyVm3mRiTgrhOeL55P-KuKITBQZ2X96wKUT0MyGpAq5IQFSWC2NkEjFvKUG4kEhvyZsrInmivrmS2yZB7iONXzmOpzPof_Ntvul4/s1600-h/HPIM1694%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182556905641103122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnioIvc0NlU-T0DgJkpFupZh1_exBmNo4cxdJwCleyVm3mRiTgrhOeL55P-KuKITBQZ2X96wKUT0MyGpAq5IQFSWC2NkEjFvKUG4kEhvyZsrInmivrmS2yZB7iONXzmOpzPof_Ntvul4/s200/HPIM1694%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>Theses old dog's can teach new tricks!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZE9Xd1IVveWPpeiw2gvKAow-WWdDnYMoy3HZZRxVm-BZdoBo8p6d4GC3SQWWTTg_jfFLju5wRR4T2CycrHm2B0K6VA42z0nMaS2XUEZdubIak19dYmC1zj2U6BVMJDFy5YonwkrAe1w/s1600-h/HPIM1685%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182556909936070434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZE9Xd1IVveWPpeiw2gvKAow-WWdDnYMoy3HZZRxVm-BZdoBo8p6d4GC3SQWWTTg_jfFLju5wRR4T2CycrHm2B0K6VA42z0nMaS2XUEZdubIak19dYmC1zj2U6BVMJDFy5YonwkrAe1w/s200/HPIM1685%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />There is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">something</span> you can hear through the mistakes, and even the "I hate <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUdf3R-OQ06C1FgTtDg_ubtwK8E8RoQwqia4zsf3IrZq4eX1nzIEfDTCqef40HdnVragmO0SzQZTZM5MdoRfTj8DVX65dtMpEGbYqJNG5c1h-Wa5llMd1qirgWyBGUVV3ErBD4Ga6guU/s1600-h/HPIM1680%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182655311931789170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUdf3R-OQ06C1FgTtDg_ubtwK8E8RoQwqia4zsf3IrZq4eX1nzIEfDTCqef40HdnVragmO0SzQZTZM5MdoRfTj8DVX65dtMpEGbYqJNG5c1h-Wa5llMd1qirgWyBGUVV3ErBD4Ga6guU/s200/HPIM1680%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a>this, leave me <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">alone'</span>s" that makes the effort of practice worth while. I wish you could see the little applause Allyse gives herself (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">literally</span>) after she's played <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">something</span> to her satisfaction.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182649895978028866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQitfGl9qKY4b_OyodoETm9_MnwGz8SVEpT-KeFvgl5tGiW2alPfBzkYTL-ZNxMXgW8dSvhARYNzJ2BlSoySWH38qLWMQl8agAwBLEhjjzcdtAD8Jy3g7mx1t4N9GJBgdnV642PV1sDM/s200/HPIM1705%5B1%5D" border="0" />She decided to play <em>Go Tell Aunt Rhody </em>in the school talent show, with no coaxing from her mother. I could tell she was excited the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">morning</span> of her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">performance</span> when she said "mom it's going to be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">in front</span> of 150 kid's" like she was playing to a sold out crowd in the Delta Center. This is Allyse moments before her big piano solo.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182649900272996178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40IFcOkg0DFB8-qrdvpqHqvHae95dcB9rx_ZPFtCVdHSvjqlipbnUcId84Ptx7SAp5MYVRXkLYukDXAu5XIZyN8SyLm6X81AyUlyIfsVRTLxCnWvZL-oICsYpb-L_KE8eS67nKPH8JUM/s200/HPIM1707%5B1%5D" border="0" /></p><p>All the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">excitement</span> brought on a bloody nose, but never fear, she was cool as a cucumber and we can tell Aunt Rhody <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Allyse</span> played without skipping a beat. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182649904567963490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAasn8gLZjnE5liqW92AJg_skI3O7W8WqHjJlx9f_9T1XlZuuSxCryo0Hi74llI038S393fI9GAEw_8zyERzxmltQfRg8-m6XHs8IHao2INFHPiDgvf4sZIO8HTuL5wblgJTTtmHO9Ak/s200/HPIM1709%5B1%5D" border="0" /></p><br /> I hope she enjoyed my applause this time as much as she did her own.Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-81921410709260002862008-03-22T09:39:00.011-06:002008-04-02T19:52:03.072-06:00HOT CROSSED BUNS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5ndXubgxJUnF1l8pP3ZEhRafidc0BwhbU1sFo-93XhRLLDumHhx8y0SDDYho1G1ZZx9EQbY-ylNIUHp50pTRJXPkwabrzPTe_LdeF7gm_Kt0ff6AggrsAoFgHyceKSYsNAOL46gD23g/s1600-h/HPIM1661%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184830833126297538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5ndXubgxJUnF1l8pP3ZEhRafidc0BwhbU1sFo-93XhRLLDumHhx8y0SDDYho1G1ZZx9EQbY-ylNIUHp50pTRJXPkwabrzPTe_LdeF7gm_Kt0ff6AggrsAoFgHyceKSYsNAOL46gD23g/s200/HPIM1661%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aHh2w6rS3SfdILS7M_ZpkBF6YyWGCQVySNhszcl_C8N-yr_50kPoOmjZK1fWE9mO7M1WdKm7nmOeIzCtPQ6VkX8PdKNdMTd5DojjBOk1ubOVIG3WaESHLrZXeoY0_zH8TLzGJ3taGSo/s1600-h/HPIM1661%5B1%5D"></a>Music Pick: <strong><em>New Soul</em></strong><br />“Good Friday” turned out to be a very good Friday. I just have one question.<br />Why do simple things prove to be so challenging? For example, Helping create those gospel aha moments for my kids! They knew it and loved it (I might add) just a few short years ago on the other side of the vale, and yet the suggestion of anything remotely spiritual is met with marked resistance.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIRA85GyjnAr5q-NKn_kPdT-FwXsEZz778UmG7KgIqGaxmENBq94TFSmGa2pgvG1Xn2WbHvWNPkDa6H4zgscgtDxXRRAV7OlnPnCdLET55LHjDJdk5aWedAPq8WcW6yf_-yd1qNgGzEg/s1600-h/HPIM1654%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180593268068208354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIRA85GyjnAr5q-NKn_kPdT-FwXsEZz778UmG7KgIqGaxmENBq94TFSmGa2pgvG1Xn2WbHvWNPkDa6H4zgscgtDxXRRAV7OlnPnCdLET55LHjDJdk5aWedAPq8WcW6yf_-yd1qNgGzEg/s400/HPIM1654%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> There is of course a recipe for success in these matters, but the recipe is similar to a recipe you might use while filling a witches caldron, some of the ingredients are nearly impossible to produce. Like eye of newt, who has that?<br />The recipe for successful gospel teaching in the home is simple. It may include the following 1. Entertainment, laden with large doses of the spirit to compensate for any inadequacies or failed attempts at humor. 2. Speed, I’m not sure if ADD is prevalent in all children or just mine, never the less you have about 2 minutes. and 3. An enormous amount of love (this truly is a gift, not something you can produce on your own, at least not now). These are the elements. Anything less than strict adherence will produce a system wide meltdown.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJFU8zi8F5pdYaFXhekMo4JNV5btApFYiuGqAtUxFvz7cpwrjjWJtXIF6Bb6iJe65IHNLgpf6U-MtB2EuemooR25hiEShtNnr1gQdZRlev-hMnyOTL0SbsjXKAOJcL2fjJZu3HkAGqkc/s1600-h/HPIM1657%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180593272363175666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJFU8zi8F5pdYaFXhekMo4JNV5btApFYiuGqAtUxFvz7cpwrjjWJtXIF6Bb6iJe65IHNLgpf6U-MtB2EuemooR25hiEShtNnr1gQdZRlev-hMnyOTL0SbsjXKAOJcL2fjJZu3HkAGqkc/s400/HPIM1657%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> So anyway, if you are in need of a good recipe for Easter Teaching it just so happens I stumbled a crossed one on good Friday. Here it is.<br />First; hot crossed buns, make some!<br />Second; Use the time while they are eating to basically teach the why of the hot crossed buns; “The Saviors’ great love for them”.<br />Third; Read them this fabulous story written by none other than our very own, Linda R. Thatcher called HOT CROSSED BUNS. I love the principles taught, and the love it instills in me for family members I can’t remember, and the hope that my children feel a sense of self worth as they connect themselves to such good people.<br />Here is the Story cut and past or just enjoy.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ5h9n7BFWf-BZOko-wL4o-CUyVZMdWC8_0cd6Mm6LpsgFS2E8EfMERsgSTsjjyysvjWQYJMap1zWxVMaDUzNHKOLQ24V3RktvQeb703NfDXySBvJTezabyC7kiZARD81KB60CMBQ78DQ/s1600-h/HPIM1653%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180593276658142978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ5h9n7BFWf-BZOko-wL4o-CUyVZMdWC8_0cd6Mm6LpsgFS2E8EfMERsgSTsjjyysvjWQYJMap1zWxVMaDUzNHKOLQ24V3RktvQeb703NfDXySBvJTezabyC7kiZARD81KB60CMBQ78DQ/s400/HPIM1653%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> Hot cross buns<br />It was still raining hard when school let out. Lynn thought about staying in town with his sister, but it was Friday - Good Friday. His dad would be waiting for him at the St. Mary’s River crossing and his mom was sure to have hot cross buns fresh out of the oven. He could almost taste them, plump and warm with icing melting between the crosses that his Catholic mother clipped on top.<br />He tightened the saddle cinch, put on his slicker, mounted the bay mare and headed south. It was a five –mile ride to the rented land where his dad had bulled two old granaries together. They served as living quarters that spring while they plowed and planted the 100 acres of wheat. For now, it was home. It was where his mom and dad were and where he wanted to be. His fatter needed him and spending the weekend in town with nothing to do was not an option for the boy.<br />At seven, his legs were still a bit short for the stirrups. His father taught him to secure his feet between the straps on top of the stirrup brace and he rode well. When he reached Lee’s Creek, the generally nominal stream was a vast angry monster. The floodwaters pounded the wooden cribbing barely clearing beneath the bridge. Dismounting, the boy led the gentle bay mare a few steps onto the bridge confident that she could sense whether it was safe to cross. She seemed calm so he led her across the bridge, noticing just as he reached the other side that his feet were getting wet. He looked back to see the water lapping over the bridge planking.<br />Safely on the road again, he quickly mounted and began riding hard into the rain the remaining four miles to the engorged St. Mary’s River, his last obstacle before reaching home. He could feel a chill on his back and realized that the slicker was soaking through. Soon his whole body would be as cold as his nearly numb hands. He thought of the times he had felt this cold riding the fields for new lambs and how pleasant it was to come home to his mother’s fragrant kitchen and feel her warm arms. She had been a cook on a threshing crew when Rob, his father, met her. Her skin was as translucent as frosted glass. She had black eyes and shiny black hair with a strip of natural auburn highlighting a perfect widow’s peak. He was immediately attracted to her. Lynn smiled remembering with pride his father’s frequent comment, you mother’s so beautiful people stop and stare at her.<br />By the time he reached the river, the driving rain had drenched the slicker soaking his flour sack shirt and patched bib overalls. The raging river was swollen and filled with debris. His heart almost failed him and then through the downpour he saw his dad waiting on the opposite bank. His freckles stood out on his pale face. The rain plastered his reddish-brown hair to his head and ran down his neck. He shivered! A mite shorter than the other bys at school and rather shy, he had great confidence and trust in his father and a huge dose of courage and faith.<br />An appreciation for God had been instilled in him by his Catholic mother, Agatha Eva Sturm Reeder. Coming near the middle of a family of ten children, she learned untiring and unmeasured service. For her, it wasn’t a question of who did what or how much; she did what had to be done and she did it cheerfully. She recognized the tender mercies of a supreme being and she prayed often. She had many unanswered questions about Robs Mormon religion and she yearned for understanding.<br />While her husband and son faced each other across the dangerous river, she wiped the top of the old cook stove with a cloth dipped in lard and then checked to see if the hot cross buns had finished browning. Unexpectedly an ominous feeling enveloped her. She dropped to her knees. The cold wet wind whistled through the cracks and knotholes, vibrating the wheat trapped between the rough floor planking and billowing her skirt she shuddered and whispered, oh, God, if Rob and the boy are in trouble, please help them, bring them home safe, please! A sweet calm replaced her foreboding. She rose, took the brown bunds from the over, put a chair up to the door to keep it from blowing open and started to make frosting.<br />Outside, the storm increased in intensity until Rob could barely see the boy across the river. He thought how much he loved this obedient son who tried so hard to please him and yet how hard it was to tell him of his love. His heart pained as he remember how betrayed he felt when God had taken his mother when he was barely seventeen and his own infant son, Robert.<br />Fear and uncertainty gripped him as he watched the brave boy urge the reluctant mare into the angry river, kicking her ribs and slapping her rump with the reins. For a few moments the horse struggled valiantly against the boiling torrent but exhausted she began to drift with the muddy current. Rob saw the danger and spurred his buckskin a hundred feet downstream where he sprang from the step bank into the swirling waters. The boy and his horse were headed straight for a tangled mass of barbed wire, tree limbs and fence posts. Rob screamed a warning, but it was no use. Without warning both the boy and the horse disappeared into the mustard deep. God don’t take my son he screamed as he struggled to keep the horse swimming strong against the swift current and slightly downstream from the murky grave. Sticking out of the tangled debris, he saw his son’s boot. Barely able to reach it he grabbed the boy around the ankle and pulled hard. He didn’t budge. Rob wrapped the reins around the saddle horn. Realizing the boy would soon drowned he took hold of the foot with both hands and with all his strength he gave on mighty yank. The boy came loose. His powerful right arm clung to the coughing, choking boy and with reins in his left hand; h turned the powerful stallion toward shore.<br />Exhausted and gasping for air the buckskin scrambled onto the eroding bank with his front hooves. Lunging forward again his back hooves barely cleared the water and they were once again on firm ground. Rob drew the boy across the saddle in front of him. His limp arms circled his father’s neck and Rob held him tight. Tears stung Rob’s eyes but the tender words stuck in his throat. The boy’s warm blood trickled down Rob’s cheek. Her son, let’s see how badly you’re cut! He said, as he parted the hairs on t? he asked. I’m O.K. the boy whispered. Silent tears rolled down his faint freckled cheeks and he laid his head against his father’s wet back. Rob loosened the reins, leaned slightly forward and off they loped to the tender arms of faith-filled wife and mother and worm hot cross buns.<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-61599052376570924082008-03-18T13:49:00.011-06:002008-03-25T16:06:31.647-06:00The Joy of a Great Friend or..... Two.........or Three<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Fmoi0cW_imB7N8MDSPW9X-iDgd5FKyAd8Z9ugiYVIaYwCuHAdN9RK-frqVPZRqID4CGbpiZbBKE2Yj1Z1RtGyPDmVjC7JVAQxjNymdhybpowfDz9Tts4o2039ZRwHlh4CCvjeSc_V4U/s1600-h/HPIM1591%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179173049145254818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Fmoi0cW_imB7N8MDSPW9X-iDgd5FKyAd8Z9ugiYVIaYwCuHAdN9RK-frqVPZRqID4CGbpiZbBKE2Yj1Z1RtGyPDmVjC7JVAQxjNymdhybpowfDz9Tts4o2039ZRwHlh4CCvjeSc_V4U/s400/HPIM1591%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Music Pick: <strong><em>Yellow Submarine</em></strong></div><div>I would like to introduce you to Gert and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Beek</span>. Oh, you can't see them but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ryland</span> can, and he can tell you all you want to know about them, until he senses your interest is purely for entertainment. Gert and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Beek...</span> don't they just sound like, well...... ducks. They actually invited <em>themselves</em> over for Family Home Evening the other night. I hope <strong><em>they</em></strong> got somthing out of the lesson. Gert and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Beek</span> are "good guys" to be sure, but even so this mother thought it might be time to invite some friends over with names a little more mundane, a name like Alex.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179223506421048258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCdE9GFasR4V5_feIyOvQo3ot-keBP0hl4t81DHohBcn44zYvroYZL2z6pG9aSu_RKNL_u2naLd7zBAwXSvnfgJjRuRRFjf_PWplQebPJs0hbdvC3oZUe6R8JF4rq1_-GQyupTofDynIo/s400/HPIM1637%5B1%5D" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>This is Alex. You <strong><em>can see</em></strong> him there on the left. He loves cars. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ryland</span> would rather cut down jungle foliage while tracking a dinosaur, but cars are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">pretty</span> "cool" too. I'm not sure if Alex has met Gert and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Beek,</span> however I do know they were "NOT coming to Alex's house" with Ryland. A kind of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">un</span>-invitation it sounded like. </div><div></div><div>Do ya love 4 year olds? (seen or unseen).</div>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857175546550726985.post-89748269995167844092008-03-05T20:24:00.016-07:002008-03-25T14:19:23.830-06:00THE FAMILY PHOTO<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TJGgCr1vC3zDExNw5u-ZpDg3lFed4fx4KUT2aZapca72FxefN-79UQD-AP7TnXauPx4Bn7adg44uwKUoBPYgsORLBHyGyZmoDNF_edCQqnLaOywEKbOR9iUGAGPLA7x0mFkT7cHWFus/s1600-h/HPIM1597%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174465700951209506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TJGgCr1vC3zDExNw5u-ZpDg3lFed4fx4KUT2aZapca72FxefN-79UQD-AP7TnXauPx4Bn7adg44uwKUoBPYgsORLBHyGyZmoDNF_edCQqnLaOywEKbOR9iUGAGPLA7x0mFkT7cHWFus/s400/HPIM1597%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> Musci Pick: <strong><em>Everything I Own</em></strong><br />THE FAMILY PHOTO: However allusive a good one is…. it is the nature and disposition of all most all mothers to try with all her skill to <em>contrive </em>that perfect moment, when not only the planets are all aligned but..... none of the children are hostile, combative, or belligerent towards the idea.<br />Perhaps, we continue under this dilution of a "possible success" for one simple reason, we want to SEE THAT IT CAN HAPPEN! Interestingly enough it really only comes when one let's go of it all and simple allows it to happen. (that and a fast shutter).<br />This shot comes pretty close for me.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujFB_2XIwcCe2Og6zY3j-xif6sp279_-3Lkm6YQzk3IZZfACeHzXdcp98zY71TnJifLGW2O5gddSU8F-lZ9A5pD7-H4Iz3H-XInUXn_9JIzvg7rvi3B4ZyUtfDhXPkV2nIKIYAWXwpmM/s1600-h/HPIM1593%5B1%5D"></a><br /><br /><br /><p>Nevertheless, a few moments before perfection can look like this......<br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdewTG0g4LpwlC86oNqDtsbyy0zAAfz93OvFQy910yJZEEUbPvvddERtuWVLA0YSZx0RiZ2go4uzDaKcB0JFlEsTpwBFgqFGi84jBmugcfSrSJ7Mje5z2BTQci0za-Gfjakp5-TfpXOhw/s1600-h/HPIM1600%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174476743312127586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdewTG0g4LpwlC86oNqDtsbyy0zAAfz93OvFQy910yJZEEUbPvvddERtuWVLA0YSZx0RiZ2go4uzDaKcB0JFlEsTpwBFgqFGi84jBmugcfSrSJ7Mje5z2BTQci0za-Gfjakp5-TfpXOhw/s200/HPIM1600%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p>"highly unlikely"</p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRMaaou_d2l1Bcrc5HyTAKVNQIuPeouGtSdXMCtVKZpr9Bd8xh76FX2wRD0TB2w5iSjtnq5XNM-wdDURO0kTOMK8Tymz8e-vWtGVKSEo5eN7C1MYjvwPGmPNJX0rg-VoJDkQyeVpnplk/s1600-h/HPIM1601%5B2%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174476747607094898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRMaaou_d2l1Bcrc5HyTAKVNQIuPeouGtSdXMCtVKZpr9Bd8xh76FX2wRD0TB2w5iSjtnq5XNM-wdDURO0kTOMK8Tymz8e-vWtGVKSEo5eN7C1MYjvwPGmPNJX0rg-VoJDkQyeVpnplk/s200/HPIM1601%5B2%5D" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>F<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjjtKhQPGgS383PX03ijde4QR6qkKfVTH1C9q_CHjxH59d_ecpy7Tzsy36ekBpsiQsw9LkqXEAbf4QQpa9gEM-LDeYyl5PZZTFsab-PFTTOAfjZb1FjC8SH7ni0ilplHea5YMH8gerQE/s1600-h/HPIM1599%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174476730427225682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjjtKhQPGgS383PX03ijde4QR6qkKfVTH1C9q_CHjxH59d_ecpy7Tzsy36ekBpsiQsw9LkqXEAbf4QQpa9gEM-LDeYyl5PZZTFsab-PFTTOAfjZb1FjC8SH7ni0ilplHea5YMH8gerQE/s200/HPIM1599%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">rightening</span><br />(rare) disobedience<br /><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9jU2gr2KfaXxKbXVIVNiHEOQeYOH_b07ylG4Z5OgDdsLjqUYE60SzkbppIG5nrl_5nT2gEll8IzmKsvD-PhzTgeank_RLHoRwWRpoTmmzrG2UlNVqT_RcfkioY6SKPVpFysMPyLpA-Wo/s1600-h/HPIM1595%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174476726132258370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9jU2gr2KfaXxKbXVIVNiHEOQeYOH_b07ylG4Z5OgDdsLjqUYE60SzkbppIG5nrl_5nT2gEll8IzmKsvD-PhzTgeank_RLHoRwWRpoTmmzrG2UlNVqT_RcfkioY6SKPVpFysMPyLpA-Wo/s200/HPIM1595%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p>and, well even fun.</p>Tibbitts Paperbaghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288064905559522349noreply@blogger.com10