tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73815369700507858602024-02-20T10:26:28.794-06:00barb-wiredcutting edge boredom at its sharpest....barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-24628426414110096662022-11-07T15:22:00.002-06:002022-11-07T15:54:28.602-06:00Big Shoes To Fill<p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">As has been the case over the last several years, us baby boomers have taken on the role of caretaker for our parents. I'd like to think I did a good job of making my own mom's life a little easier over her last years. And I assisted my mom in taking care of my dad as his health declined as well. We lost Greg's mom at an early age, long before she needed ANYONE to take care of her. I'm not sure if she lived to be 100, she would have needed help. She was a very strong, independent woman! Now that Greg's dad is aging, he certainly is slowing down, And I'm sure he misses having Janette there to take care of him. He doesn't ask for much from Greg or Diana. However, yesterday, he had one little request of Greg, that in my opinion, shoots him straight to the top of the World's Best list of parental caretakers. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy7tSKnOvhAl8-SNK5KfJK9MnoGtBei5XyW2QSag6KrhlQUilgGkfWFXyCZMLiAwcH1oG3uS6VEH4gE4y2KEWMkzpiOA0acK1JiQug_6vKtDnrVYxQINCWZdu8dfN4s3HkmWI9C_UXT9IpgdYiFcfRXRkESlMx1uk2iBfm6L4QQdtTcWsogF0sjaGLqw/s1280/Elson%2012-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1185" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy7tSKnOvhAl8-SNK5KfJK9MnoGtBei5XyW2QSag6KrhlQUilgGkfWFXyCZMLiAwcH1oG3uS6VEH4gE4y2KEWMkzpiOA0acK1JiQug_6vKtDnrVYxQINCWZdu8dfN4s3HkmWI9C_UXT9IpgdYiFcfRXRkESlMx1uk2iBfm6L4QQdtTcWsogF0sjaGLqw/s320/Elson%2012-21.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p>He told Greg he couldn't find his dentures. And for some crazy reason, he thought he had flushed them down the toilet. So what did my heroic husband do? He got the fishing boat out, launched it in the lagoon, donned full arm's length gloves, and he went fishing. I'm sorry, I mean, sure, I cleaned up alot of poop, but this? I'm afraid I would have been ordering new teeth. Unfortunately, the fishing expedition failed to turn up said dentures. A few hours later, he looked under his recliner, and oh looky there! One pair of semi used dentures, NOT in the mouth of some lucky fish.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9DijcmmH4aUNXtVEYJ6zgBRZcBTqL4cfbF1m9buHehHndq79FA2EWk9IWzgkJV4L4iIg2sjAcxED3--Q_st_SlutDkU2GVRGSb-XobFE5Y4Zg9FmvD2VqAh8cNmgTVsZhM59mnSKIma-QhwEJfN-n1nRMHEtaqQLvo14OKtdjejjZpNOCe8W3zuzUQ/s720/fish%20with%20teeth.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="658" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9DijcmmH4aUNXtVEYJ6zgBRZcBTqL4cfbF1m9buHehHndq79FA2EWk9IWzgkJV4L4iIg2sjAcxED3--Q_st_SlutDkU2GVRGSb-XobFE5Y4Zg9FmvD2VqAh8cNmgTVsZhM59mnSKIma-QhwEJfN-n1nRMHEtaqQLvo14OKtdjejjZpNOCe8W3zuzUQ/s320/fish%20with%20teeth.webp" width="292" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p>The whole time, I'm thinking Erin better step up her game. He just set the bar pretty dang high. </span><p></p><p><br /><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p>barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-80201973765946777402022-10-04T12:04:00.000-05:002022-10-04T12:04:46.859-05:00Introducing the Next Social Media Star... Greg Bryson!<p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now that Social Media Influencers are a thing, let's take a moment to talk about that subject. I believe if you look it up in the dictionary, there will be a picture of me as an example of the ultimate target for influencers. Let's face it. I've never had an original thought of my own. Prime example? My Blog. When did I start blogging? After I started reading blogs back in 2006. My regulars were <i><span style="color: red;">Bitchypoo, Dysfunction Junction, Plain Jane, A Small Town Girl, and Too Disgusting to Contemplate, Too Disgusting to Ignore.</span></i> I thought well if they can do it, so can I! And I did. Consistently, For seven months. And then, like all things I attempt, I quit. Well sort of. Obviously, I'm still blogging, but only occasionally. Anyhoo. These days, my course of action after being so heavily influenced is reflected on my bank statement. Let's see, there's Montana Moonlight, who very convincingly moved me to purchase and use Pomifera Face Products and Seint Makeup, which btw, are all wonderful products that I continue to use daily. Then there's Nicole Huntsman. Boy, where do I start? I've ordered Younique products from her, and I've used her oh so special code to purchase everything from a new wedding set to my Toddy XL from Brumate, (which I highly recommend!) and tons of other expensive things in between. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">All of this to tell you Greg Bryson has convinced me to try making TikTok videos, and now I'm wondering if I can be an influencer<b>**</b> too! I suspect the type of products we would be endorsing would fall somewhere between farm must-haves and booze. But hey, ya gotta start somewhere!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So, if you haven't heard the news already, our TikTok Page is</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>BOATING WITH THE BRYSONS</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Our timing, however couldn't be worse. The idea was born on what was most likely our last trip to the lake for this year. We don't want to just abandon the page until next spring, so we've been throwing around some ideas for winter time entertainment. Expect to see heavy equipment, cattle, liquor recommendations and much more fun stuff. Greg is the star of this page, but you might see my face once in a while. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If you have any suggestions or requests, please throw them this way!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>**tongue firmly planted in cheek</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></p>barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-51850050259912152422022-03-16T02:58:00.005-05:002022-03-16T03:00:57.717-05:00Your Jokes<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background-color: #cccccc;"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dear
Mom</span><span face=""Segoe UI", sans-serif" style="color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Six months. Does 6 months in heaven feel as long as it does
here? I’m trying hard to think of the positives that come from your
passing. Obviously you are in heaven with our Lord, and nothing can top that!
And I believe you’ve been reunited with all your loved ones who passed
before you. And how wonderful it must be to be pain free and healed of
your ailments! That part sounds pretty good about right now! (we'll save that story for another time) <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Segoe UI", sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">I wonder, do you miss me as much as I miss you? Do you see
what’s going on in my life? Do you hear me talking to you? I really
need to believe you do. As much as I miss my mom, I miss my best friend
even more. Yes, I still have great friends who I love dearly. And believe
me, I have leaned on them a lot in the last 6 months. But it’ll never be the
same.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: #cccccc;"><span face=""Segoe UI", sans-serif" style="color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">I ate lunch today at the Sale Barn, and we sat at a table with 3
lovely women from your generation. Our waitress was the same age. And oh did
she remind me of you! So ornery and quick witted! Giving the other
ladies a hard time, but all in fun. The ladies at our table reminded me of some
of your friends as well. The sweet but quiet woman who drives them around
(although she didn’t drive a green van </span><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">😉</span><span face=""Segoe UI", sans-serif" style="color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">). The leader, who was the most talkative, and
who proudly shared that she was 90 years old! And then there was the
complainer. I’m sure you know who that reminded me of!!! She mentioned
that the son of a friend had recently had his tongue clipped, and he was much
easier to understand now. Well you know I had to tell her my story about tongue
clipping! When I said the Dr. clipped it too much they all looked at me
in disbelief. Until I explained that perhaps I talk TOO much as opposed to
struggling to talk before it was clipped. They all laughed, and when I told
them y’all said I was vaccinated with a phonograph needle, I thought they were
going to lose it! So thanks for telling me stories that I can share and
use to bring a little laughter to others. I laughed too. If felt good to think
of you and laugh. I suspect it wasn’t a coincidence that there wasn’t anywhere
else to sit today </span><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">😉😉</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Segoe UI", sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">Well what do you know. I’m actually feeling a little
better after sharing this with you. I think I might do this again. Please don’t
ever forget how much I love you and miss you.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Segoe UI", sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt;">Love Barb</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-30025683507283772252020-11-27T17:27:00.005-06:002020-11-27T17:31:55.310-06:00Family Traditions<p>Our family has a tradition that, although funny, I’m not really crazy about. Especially today. Here’s the back story. </p><p>Several years ago Erin baked rolls for Thanksgiving dinner. They were beautiful rolls and she was very proud of them. Until I heated them up, and some of the bottoms got a little too brown for Erin. She deemed them burnt, and because we had backup rolls she threw them out. Now if you aren’t familiar with our place, there is a field just east of our drive way, and Greg keeps a wide ditch in between them for drainage. The ditch is where we dispose of food for the dogs. Naturally Erin threw the “burned” rolls in the ditch. While waiting for dinner, the “menfolk” wait outside. Out of the way and out of helping range you might say. Well they were hungry, and they didn't see anything wrong with those rolls, so they just brushed the dirt off of them and ate them. And the term Ditch Rolls was born. </p><p>Since then, on any occasion when food is ruined, usually because it was dropped, the name Ditch is added to it. There were Chloe's Ditch Nachos, after a ballgame that landed in the grass and papa deemed still edible. Last year at Christmas, there were the Ditch Baked Beans that I spilled all over while taking them from the oven. Hint: never use foil pans unless they are on a cookie sheet. Thankfully, Erin managed to salvage some of them. </p><p>Just yesterday, the evil foil pan struck again. Ditch Sweet Potatoes. Greg grabbed a spatula and shoved them all back in the pan before Kenda knew what was happening! She has the cleanest floors I've ever seen, so eating off her floors, so to speak, is not even questioned. Plus, Greg and Pat were the only ones that ate sweet potatoes, so it didn't really matter to us. </p><p>Just when I thought we were in the clear, I made a cherry cheesecake today. When I put it in the fridge to chill I noticed it was rather heavy and a little unsteady. But you know, whatever. Whatever my foot. I just took it out of the refrigerator, and now.... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyGww9mM9pIJpZ-q0O8jl81moSsiWmF2rqyTp7SjY6jIhf_DxqHOvBNR2MijBPWTjPp6wIRcHDSpjCyWVjKXEPq4ToL8lYhSSRMSpXLMoCWQvZirmVkVEFWgJmWqIK6GYBYCb0X0yVvNeg/s1280/ditch+cheesecake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyGww9mM9pIJpZ-q0O8jl81moSsiWmF2rqyTp7SjY6jIhf_DxqHOvBNR2MijBPWTjPp6wIRcHDSpjCyWVjKXEPq4ToL8lYhSSRMSpXLMoCWQvZirmVkVEFWgJmWqIK6GYBYCb0X0yVvNeg/s320/ditch+cheesecake.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">ditch cheesecake. FML</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmVATp9KX04s8-mBCEocb1wlfrJj1GLHJJfbm_zRC6jEARKXFU3qlIe-ut0Sw5EQSPVPRADOYtuIxegKt7Ukz0ZqD5Os0N-T7gODDhhvyMHgOn-EtJLQYPwD_sUNlqEYJshjg2F1KFoPT/s1280/lucy+eating+ditch+cheesecake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1223" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmVATp9KX04s8-mBCEocb1wlfrJj1GLHJJfbm_zRC6jEARKXFU3qlIe-ut0Sw5EQSPVPRADOYtuIxegKt7Ukz0ZqD5Os0N-T7gODDhhvyMHgOn-EtJLQYPwD_sUNlqEYJshjg2F1KFoPT/s320/lucy+eating+ditch+cheesecake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Thanksgiving Lucy!</div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p></div>barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-75030275781831860232020-07-20T19:37:00.005-05:002020-08-03T13:18:51.480-05:00The Unicorn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43dWU4LQPleA3D_jmb738hG25QSQXprSXZh7Jl2KZpKAw6v1e4WiR3sSQO_MWVWZl_Qf2tABsWp32dF9gGS4TG35jmklPlQf7ENdcLMqCMbDn_tzEw-4mGq4OG9-NwupyzTQf-_99UCqq/s1600/F3637EF8-5D4F-4B16-881B-C89C6F7F13B8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43dWU4LQPleA3D_jmb738hG25QSQXprSXZh7Jl2KZpKAw6v1e4WiR3sSQO_MWVWZl_Qf2tABsWp32dF9gGS4TG35jmklPlQf7ENdcLMqCMbDn_tzEw-4mGq4OG9-NwupyzTQf-_99UCqq/s320/F3637EF8-5D4F-4B16-881B-C89C6F7F13B8.jpeg" width="240" /></a><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 28px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="s1">This is a Unicorn in my household. Homemade, completely from scratch, Apple Pie. I can count the pies I’ve baked over the last 39 years with just my hands. </span></div>
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Why you ask? Well let’s see. The fact that it took me almost an entire day is a good place to start. How the heck do you pie bakers do it??? <span class="s1"></span></div>
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<span class="s1">And then there’s my sister Jan. She is a master pie baker, and I always rely on her to bring them to all family dinners. Not to mention my Super Pastry Chef niece Rosalie. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">On the Bryson side, between Janette and Grandma Ruby, we had more pie than we could ever eat. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And now Diana and Erin do a great job at keeping us full!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Growing up, Mom baked lots of pies thanks to all of the fruit trees and raspberries and rhubarb dad grew and they froze. After he retired, Dad kinda took over the baking and was famous for his cakes and pies. Just ask any Mason in Burlingame! </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I’m not sure what happened to me today, other than an over abundance of apples sitting in my kitchen. I can tell you I have a very happy husband at the moment!!</span></div>
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-3500024343562909792019-10-25T12:10:00.000-05:002019-10-25T12:10:10.216-05:00How the Worst Day of my Life Turned Into the Best Day of my LifeI realize I never did follow through on my promise to explain my sudden "retirement", so maybe now is as good a time as any.<div>
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First a little background. I worked at Sheltered Living, (SLI) for over 11 years. I LOVED my job. Every single thing about it. It truly was the first time in my career I found myself not dreading going to work everyday. I shared an office with 2 co-workers who I dearly love. Amy, Jen and I just clicked. Which is good, because those half walls dividing our work spaces didn't hide much. We worked well together, and had a little fun along the way. So about 4 years ago Amy decided she needed to leave SLI. It wasn't easy to adjust to life without our missing partner, but Jen and I managed. It was several months before her replacement was hired. As in the past, job descriptions were changed (typical anytime there was a change in personnel) But this time, the change was unprecedented.. Out new 3rd "co-worker" turned out to be our new direct supervisor. The minute I heard that, my stomach dropped. I knew this was never going to work. Well for me, it wasn't. Having my boss right next to me. watching my every move, literally standing over my shoulder, was my worst nightmare. See, I'm the kind of person who doesn't need to be micro-managed. And up to this point, our boss never did that. She gave us the freedom to do our jobs our own way. And that's what we did. The work got done. </div>
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A little more info to consider. Over the past 5 years I went though a few health crises. The big one, of course keeping me completely off work for 3 months, and part time for another 3 months. After that there were multiple surgeries, physical therapy, and many many Dr. Appointments. This obviously led to more time off work. Couple that with my age, and I believe I became a target. I think my employer was afraid the health problems would continue. My boss was the only other person who could do my job, so she may have decided she wanted someone who could work full time, without restrictions, and without frequent absences. Now, I always had a problem with getting to work on time. If you know me, you're saying DUH to yourself right now. But part of my medical condition had a direct effect on my inability to get up and moving every morning. </div>
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So, take one annoying supervisor, times my existing time management problem, add a hostile environment which effected my desire to go to work, as well as my job performance, all totaled up equals "I'm sorry but we are terminating your employment", And, let me just add that I had seen this sort of thing happen many times during my 11 years there, I clearly saw it coming, and still I couldn't stop that steamroller from running right over me. I was devastated. I was embarrassed. I was walked to my office to pack up my things and escorted to my car, without an opportunity to even say goodbye to anyone. I was told I was not welcome at any SLI property, and instructed to have no contact with SLI clients or guardians. These people were my world for 11 years, and suddenly, they were cut from my life. It was almost like a death had occurred. </div>
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I went home and told Greg what happened, expecting the worst. But. My husband told me all the things I needed to hear. They don't deserve you. They didn't appreciate you. You're better off without them. We will be fine without your income. You can stay home and help me out on the farm. It's going to be ok. </div>
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It wasn't long before I realized just what a blessing being fired was. The relief was immediate. I still miss my co-workers and the clients, but they eased up a little and didn't say anything when I attended a memorial at their office for one of the clients, and I was even invited to a retirement party for one of my favorite co-workers. (Sorry I couldn't make it JoAnn!)</div>
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A year after all of this took place, I became eligible for my full KPERS retirement, and we decided it was the right time to take advantage of that. </div>
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It's been 15 months since that ugly day, and I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm able to take care of my mom, which takes up a good chunk of my time. Equally importantly, I'm available to help Erin with my wonderful grandkids at a moment's notice. Well unless it's harvest time. Or cattle gathering time. Or planting time. Yes, Greg and the farm are my priority, but it's not exactly a full time job. I believe the best thing to come from all of this is the quality time that my husband and I get to spend together and it's strengthened our marriage.</div>
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Thanks SLI. You know you miss me!</div>
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-856272326769507452019-01-13T12:39:00.001-06:002019-01-13T12:45:11.635-06:00Short (But Bright) ThoughtsAs all of my FB friends already know, the Farm Show came to town earlier this week. Greg and I went on Tuesday so we could spend our time where we wanted to, and took the grandkids Wednesday when they could dictate how our time was spent. This works much better than just making one trip. Greg was drawn in to a booth featuring LED lighting. He was mainly interested in buying LED bulbs to replace the fluorescent bulbs in the shop. They also had some LED lamps which are basically a light bulb for the house.. The smallest one was supposed to put out more light than two 100 watt bulbs. Well Greg was wanting something for the dining room, which is where he does most of his reading. Now I totally understand the importance of light when it comes to reading papers and magazines, so I had no problem with getting something brighter. Greg was afraid the small bulb might not be enough, so we decided to go up a step to the next size bulb. All of the bulbs were delivered Friday, and when I got home that evening and walked into the kitchen, I looked up at Greg and I was LITERALLY BLINDED BY THE LIGHT. Now I just have to get a basket of sunglasses to leave at the back door and post a sign<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">DO NOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT THE LIGHT</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">YOUR EYES WILL BE RUINED FOREVER</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">LOOKING AT AN ECLIPSE WOULD BE BETTER </span><br />
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I mean seriously! That's enough wattage to light up the freaking Expo Center. I should have know, since the guys directly across from the the LED Booth looked less than thrilled.<br />
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NASA called - the International Space Station is concerned our house has been invaded by light seeking aliens.<br />
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Erin and the kids are coming out this afternoon. Greg's got the sled AND an old truck hood all ready for them. Hopefully I won't be checking in later from the hospital!!<br />
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-48114266207908939202018-10-29T14:01:00.000-05:002018-10-29T15:17:37.636-05:00Catching UpWell, looks like I'm back. For how long is anyone's guess. But I'm here today, and I'll take it from there.<br />
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These days you'll find me working for Bryson Dozer Service and/or Bryson Farms. Which basically means as far as wages go, I'm unemployed. Ha.<br />
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This isn't the first time I've stayed home and helped out on the farm. In fact I remember one winter when I took over feeding the cattle every morning so Greg could get an earlier start on his dozer jobs. While I didn't exactly enjoy getting up that early, and I hated that old truck I had to use to feed hay, I really loved seeing the cows and calves every day. And I loved that they knew me. Most of the time they are a little leery if I get out of the truck. All they know if Greg is their sugar daddy!<br />
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Back to where I am now. I left my job at the end of July for reasons that I will get into in another post. Maybe. So I spent the month of August mostly getting used to the idea that I no longer had a job that I had loved more than any other job I've ever had. I was in mourning. I knew I was going to lose so many people who I loved. Sure, everyone says we'll stay in touch. But the reality is we won't. They are in Topeka. They are busy with their jobs, family, daily life. It's hard to sustain a friendship with former work friends. The only good thing is when I do make plans to see them, we pick right back up where we left off.<br />
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Now for the upside of staying home. I have the time and availability to see my Mom and take care of her when needed. And at 94 years old, that is invaluable. A few weeks ago she fell off her front porch. She has a Home Health Aide, aka Lisa the Angel. She made mom call me. (yes, that's right, mom had no intention of telling anyone about her fall) Luckily she didn't break anything, but she was in a great deal of pain, so I stayed a couple of days to make sure she didn't fall again.<br />
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I was able to go to the farm shop in Grand Island this year without having to worry about having enough vacation time to cover my days off! Our friends Kenda and Pat went with us. It's always more fun when friends come along. Not that Greg and I can't have fun together, but the more the merrier! We stayed in an Airbnb for the first time. The hostess also lived there. The house was great, and the back yard was perfect. We spend all of our spare time outside, and the weather was beautiful. The Airbnb experience was positive, but I think we all agreed we'd rather have a home without a host living on site. It's not that our hostess was bad, in fact, she was great. But it didn't provide the privacy we all felt like we needed. I'll definitely look for an Airbnb in the future before I look at hotels. The other advantage is cost. We spent much less money on the home than a hotel would have cost.<br />
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Of course we've been to Husker Harvest Days more times than I can count, but this was Kendas first time there. It's also fun to see it though a first timer's eyes. She was overwhelmed by the size of the show and all of the farm equipment. We are officially old timers now, so we rent a golf cart to tour the farm. Walking miles and miles is just not something we want to do. Plus, its fun. Well that is until your husband takes off while you're just getting on. When that happens, well, you've got Barb face down in a corn field with about a billion people watching. I'm not sure if I was more mad or embarrassed. I do know I made sure everyone watching knew I didn't need any help getting up, and I may have yelled "there's nothing to see here" a time or two. The only thing hurt was my pride, but I made the best of it. I told Kenda that my plan was to make sure at least one person at the farm show remembered me, and I think I succeeded.<br />
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The golf cart provided more adventures. Greg decided he needed to be at the other end of the corn field they were combining, so he drove across the field at a speed that was probably prohibited, while Kenda and I held on for dear life on the back of the cart. After sitting for a few minutes and show employee asked us to move our cart so a combine could come in and finish the rows right in front of us. Sure, no problem. But wait, there was a problem. The engine wouldn't start. I wasn't terribly worried - after all, I am married to a mechanic. After a few minutes of looking and such, Pat and Greg realized we'd thrown a belt. What are the odds that belt would be laying on the ground right under the cart? Well it was, so they put the belt back on and off we went. While eating lunch we noticed alot of corn stalks under the cart and pulled out a many as possible. I just know I've been blacklisted, and next year when I call to reserve a cart, they are going to tell me they aren't ever allowed to rent to me again.<br />
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I've also been able to spend more time with my precious grand babies! I imagine most of my readers are also Facebook friends, so I don't have to tell you how wonderful they are - you get to see it everyday lol!! Now if you're reading this and you AREN'T my FB friend, well you should be. Send me a friend request!<br />
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Now that we are finally able to get into the fields, Harvest is in full gear. We didn't plant much corn, which this year, was a good thing. Unlike most of our neighbors, we waited and combined our corn. Most everyone around us cut theirs early for silage. Most of our fields are planted to soybeans, and that's what we're busy cutting now. Greg's hired man is not able to help this year, which leaves us without a truck driver. Now, I can drive a truck, but the Semi, not so much. Oh I can drive it in the field from point A to point B no problem, just don't ask me to back it up. AND, I can run over stuff with it too! Several years ago when we were putting grain in a bin that we hadn't moved home yet, Greg left me in charge of auguring grain from the trailer into the bin. If you aren't familiar with grain trailers, there are two hoppers; one towards the front and one towards to back of the trailer. To unload, we were using a tailing auger, which is shorter than a normal auger. The grain falls into the tailing auger, and it then moves the grain into the big auger, which loads the grain into the bin. Confused? That's ok. All you really need to know is that the tailing auger is UNDER the semi. So you drive the truck up so the front hopper is over the tailing auger, and empty most of the front of the trailer. Then you pull the truck up so the back hopper can dump into the auger and finish unloading the grain. Do you see where I'm going with this? Well, at some point, I drove too far and ran over the tailing auger. I sat there wondering what to do. Do I call Greg? Or better yet, do I flee the country? In the end, I waited for him to come back for the semi, and let him see for himself. After he used every cuss word he knew, multiple times, he took the auger home and fixed it. See, it wasn't so bad. Sure it cost him a half day he could have been combining. Sorry Greg! So back to being short a man. Now that I'm home, I'm the designated helper. Taking the header to the field, running Greg and Eldon between home and the field. Taking lunch to them in the field. Basically being at their beckon call. And that my friends, is something you can't put a price on. Especially when they are trying to get the beans out before it rains again. <br />
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Probably my favorite thing about working on the farm is the cattle. I've set up pens, caught cattle and hauled them home. I've chased a bad cow (Emmy's name for her) and her cult (three calves that follow her everywhere). Once this fall they got out of our pasture at home and roamed clear across country. After looking for a few days they were finally found north of 56 Hwy. For those of you that don't live around her, that's about 5 miles north of us. Greg has never had a good word to say about Facebook, but after that, he saw the power of social media when it comes to looking for lost cattle. He was shocked at the response to my post asking locals to be on the lookout for them. We have 2 pastures emptied and hauled home; 3 pastures left. We'll get them home eventually.<br />
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So that's where I'm at for now. I'm hoping to work writing into my schedule, so be on the lookout for new blogs. Notifications will always be on FB.<br />
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<br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-53251335964043927422015-09-16T13:20:00.001-05:002015-09-16T13:20:40.179-05:00Aging, But Not So GracefullyYou know how there are things you always say you're going to do, but somehow never get around to doing them? I call those my someday plans. Well number one on my list of someday plans is exercise. Yes, I know, to look at me, you'd never guess that. (also on that list is to stop putting myself down, but that's way down on the list) My pal Amy and I have been talking about trying Zumba. She searched YouTube for Zumba routines and found all kinds of videos of healthy looking women dancing their butts off. Wore me out just watching them. So I searched YouTube for FAT women doing Zumba. Yes I did. And guess what! I found Sunshine. She's an awesome full figured gal who records herself Zumba-ing in her living room. Now that's the kind of inspiration I need. I'm sorry, but watching a bunch of skinny women in great shape do all kinds of moves I'll never be able to do does not provide the encouragement I need to get up off my ass. In fact, it does just the opposite. It makes me feel fat and lazy and inferior. So I've got a date with Sunshine's Journey on YouTube and we'll see where it leads.<br />
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In the meantime..... I've been invited to join a group of women in Burlingame who get together once a week to exercise and dance a little. Now normally, I feel good when someone asks me to join their group. But I had to back pedal a little this time - because the group is called the Sassy Seniors. My first thought was well I'm too young to be in that group. But guess what? Just because I act like a kid and feel like a kid (except when I get up out of a chair) it turns out I AM a Senior Citizen. Their group is for 55 and over, and hell, I'm 56 now. I'm usually happy to receive the perks of being old, you know, discounts at the buffet, and even the liquor store! But this? This is the kind of stuff my Mom does, not me! Right? I'm still processing this. This is like announcing to the world "Hey look at me! I'm OLDDDDDDDD. Am I ready for that? <br />
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Stay tuned........<br />
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<br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-63596917015508929782015-06-22T14:09:00.001-05:002015-06-22T14:09:16.910-05:00June 22<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">June 22, 2014. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The day my world turned upside down. The first of 83 days I would spend in either ICU, the burn unit or rehab. The Drs. and nurses all marveled at how well I recovered. I was able to go back to work a week after I came home; albeit part time. My legs will never look "normal" again, but they've come a long way since last fall. While I would never have wished for this to happen to me, there were positive things to come from it. Meeting the incredible people who took care of me. Seeing the outpouring of love and support from my friends and family. Realizing that I am one tough cookie!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">June 22, 2015. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm not really sure how I feel about this being the "anniversary" of "that day". Somehow I thought I would feel overwhelmed with sadness when I woke up this morning, but to tell you the truth, I didn't even think about it until I was almost to work. It's not consuming me like I thought it might. I was hoping Erin would have the baby today, so we would have something to celebrate instead of mourning the day. But that's just it - I'm not mourning. Honestly, it kind of feels like just another day. Getting through this day without falling apart helps me see that I'm at the end. Maybe I can put this whole ordeal behind me and move on. Aside from the scars on my legs, (and maybe a healthy fear of grass fires) I don't need to think about it anymore. And that, my friends, makes me a winner. (Cue the Rocky theme music) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So, with this chapter of my life closed, you won't have to read about it anymore! On to bigger and better subjects. Like my new granddaughter, who will be here on Friday. There will be a blog about her birth soon!</span> <br />
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<br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-3119391096326953562014-10-19T10:51:00.000-05:002014-10-19T10:51:19.954-05:00What I Did On My Summer Vacation<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By now I imagine most of you know how I spent my summer. If not, you can read about it on the <a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/barbsjourney2" target="_blank">Caring Bridge</a> site Erin started. And several of you have asked when I would be returning to this blog. Wow! You missed me? Turns out I have more readers than I realized! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I've thought long and hard about whether or not I should write about the accident. More to the point. COULD I write about it? Fortunately, I haven't had nightmares or flashbacks to the fire. I've told the story so many times, at this point I'm pretty sure I say the exact same thing, word for word. No deviating. No thinking about what could have been. No concentrating on the fear or the pain. It's all about the recovery. Not that I remember much about that. The first 4-5 weeks in the KU Burn Unit are pretty foggy. Gotta love narcotics! What I do remember is the wonderful care I received from the nurses, some of the visitors (sorry if you came early and I didn't remember!) and the tons of cards I received. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Not so surprisingly, this whole experience has been life changing. I've certainly learned a lot about myself. For the first time in my life, people are telling me how strong I am. The Doctors, nurses, and therapists all praised me for my determination to get better. They were amazed at how hard I worked to get back on my feet and home. Well guess who is even more amazed? Yep - that would be me. My entire life I've considered myself the complete opposite from the person I became this summer. The real challenge will be to see if I can retain these qualities. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My relationship with Greg was also drastically affected. He's not really the type to discuss these things, but I believe the thought of losing me scared the bejesus out of him! His caring side came roaring out and took over. It was nice to be reminded that he really does love me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I always knew how strong Erin is, but boy, let me tell you, she kicked butt when it came to taking care of her momma! I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful, caring daughter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Friends. Boy oh boy do I have some awesome friends. Not that I didn't already know that, but they not so subtly reminded me just how lucky I am to have such generous and caring people in my life. I'll never ever take them for granted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We're 4 months out now, and things are going well. I rushed back to work just a week after getting out of rehab. Turns out that might not have been the best idea. My employer, who, did I mention, has been awesome throughout this whole thing? Anyway, they agreed to let me cut back to 6 hour days for now, until I can get my strength back. It's not easy to accept that your body won't let you do what your mind thinks you can do. I'm working on that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Last thing -- a big thank you to all of you. When I went back and read all of the FB posts and Caring Bridge messages, I felt the love. And then I cried. But they were happy tears, so it's all good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span> barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-54067301854021034992014-06-21T12:58:00.000-05:002014-06-21T12:58:43.749-05:00Because I'm Happy*Hi Barb -- I'm Barb -- nice to meet you. Or something like that. Recently I feel like I've seen a new side of my personality that I either didn't know existed or more likely, pretended didn't exist. <br />
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I've always been a positive person. No matter how dark and dreary things are, I will always find the silver lining. Feeling down? Come see me! I promise you'll be a happier person when you leave. If you enjoy wallowing in your pain, you probably don't want to talk to me. So how is it I never saw the negativity inside myself? When it comes to making myself feel better? I suck! <br />
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For the last couple of weeks I've made a concerted effort to stay away from negativity. Not saying I was 100% successful, but it's coming along. Change is never easy, right? You know the old saying "you reap what you sow"? I feel like the more positivity I project, the more I will attract. I think that may be the concept behind the book "The Secret" that my bff/sister/cousin Julie gave me several years ago. She said it would change my life. It sat on my laundry chute in my bathroom for years, begging me to read it. And I did. I read the same few pages over and over again, but could never get past them. Maybe it's time to try again. Now where did I put that darn book? <br />
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In other news... I recently did a sleep study, and was diagnosed with moderate Sleep Apnea. The next step is to get a CPAP machine calibrated and start using it. I'll let you know how that goes. I have very high expectations for this treatment. I've had so much difficulty just waking up every morning and getting to work on time, that the idea of getting a good night's sleep and waking up refreshed has me positively giddy!!!<br />
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*The old me would say "I HATE THAT SONG!!!" The new me says I can't wait till that Pharrell guy puts out a new single!!!<br />
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<br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-71098805531936130962014-04-14T18:19:00.000-05:002014-04-14T18:19:02.368-05:00My Big BrotherI just talked to Bill on the phone, and I'm beyond thrilled to say it really was my brother on the other end. Not that heavily medicated, groggy, hurting beyond imagination man of the last two weeks. When Mom and I visited 2 days ago, he was better than when he was still in the Trauma ICU, but he was still in a great deal of pain. One of the Orthopedic Doctors came in while we were there and gave us a run down of his injuries.<br />
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1) broke three of the five metatarsal bones in his right foot, which <br />
they haven't repaired yet<br />
2) broken right tibia with loss of bone, which will require a bone graft in <br />
the future<br />
3) broken right distal femur just above the knee - they put a metal plate in <br />
to help stabilize it<br />
4) severe soft tissue damage on back side of his right calf - skin and muscle <br />
grafts were done<br />
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WOW. That's a lot of hurting going on right there. <br />
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Just now, on the phone he reported that he'd had an excellent day and reached several milestones, including:<br />
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* The drains in his back were removed<br />
* He was able to stand on "one weak leg" as he put it, for the first time<br />
* The Physical Therapists (who he referred to on Saturday as the Crash <br />
Test Dummies) helped him get into a wheelchair and he was able to <br />
wheel himself around the nurses station a few times and then sit up<br />
in the chair for 1/2 hour. (I think he's changed his opinion of the<br />
PTs now)<br />
* They were able to remove the nerve block that was helping ease<br />
some of the pain<br />
* He had them stop the IV pain medicine<br />
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So again, WOW! That's more like a lot of HEALING going on!! I told him he needs to call Mom so she can hear just how great he sounds. I know how relieved she'll be when she hears his voice. It sounds like he'll be leaving KUMC sometime this week, but we're not sure where he's headed.<br />
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He's still got a long road ahead before he's healed, but he's certainly headed in the right direction. Thank you to each and every one of you who said a prayer, sent good thoughts, and continue to ask about him. He's been overwhelmed by the response of so many friends. <br />
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To my brave big brother, I just have to say I'm so proud of you, I love you and I'm really glad it wasn't your time to leave us!<br />
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-45196409144311832762014-03-25T21:23:00.001-05:002014-03-25T22:52:17.687-05:00Happy Birthday Daddy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tomorrow would have been my dad's 95th birthday. He's been gone for almost 15 years and I still think about him every day. I suppose most daughters think their dad was the best, but really, my dad WAS the best!! I remember when I was a little girl, I'd sit on the back of the couch behind him and pretend to dump ketchup, mustard, and anything else I could think of on his hair, and then rub it all in. His hair was a disaster when I was done, but he didn't mind. That tradition continued on with the grandkids - I even have a picture somewhere of Rosalie playing with his hair. Of course, she had much less to play with than I did! <br />
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My dad came from a family of 9 kids, and family was always very important to him. As a child, we visited my Grandma and Grandpa Granger in Strong City at least once a month, maybe more often. (kids don't keep great track of time you know) There was always lots of family there, and Grandma always fixed a big meal for everyone. I was close to all of my aunts and uncles, but not my cousins so much. Most of my cousins were considerably older than me. I was the youngest grandchild, and there were many great grandkids older than me. He inherited his love for flowers and gardening from his mother. Gardening was how my dad relaxed after a hard day of bricklaying. Can you imagine? He worked for hours in the garden and it showed. After Greg and I were married, he tried to help me with a garden, even helping me harvest and can green beans. He finally figured out it just wasn't my thing, but he never judged me for it. He also had a nice little orchard with fruit trees, grape vines, and black raspberries. Mom and Dad spent hours every summer canning green beans, tomatoes, raspberry, grape and rhubarb jelly, and freezing corn and fruit for pies. He always helped Mom out with that kind of stuff.<br />
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He taught me to drive, change a tire, check my oil, and pump gas. He always wanted me to be able to take care of myself. He reluctantly let me mow the yard. Now I'm not sure if it was because he was worried I'd get hurt or that I'd hurt the mower! <br />
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I think my dad was the most gentle man I've ever known. He had a soft spot for babies, both human and animal. He even loved the pet raccoon we had when Erin was little. Being around babies made his whole face light up. He couldn't keep his hands off of them.<br />
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showing new baby Erin to her cousin </div>
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November 1983 with 7 month old Erin </div>
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love that look of contentment on his face </div>
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sneakin' a smooch - Christmas 1983</div>
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(not sure what Miss Erin's problem was!)</div>
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After he retired, he and mom moved into Burlingame, and he missed the country so much. He'd get restless in town, and the next thing I knew, he'd be at my house. He didn't want anything special, and didn't expect me to entertain him. He just liked being on the farm. The last ten years of so of his life, he and mom came out every Sunday afternoon, like clockwork. We watched football or basketball, or whatever other sport was on together. Those Sundays are one of the things I miss the most. <br />
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One thing that did keep him busy in those later years was baking. He became famous for the cakes he shared with this Masonic brothers and at the Sr. Center Meal Site. He checked Greg's Grass and Grain every week for new recipes. <br />
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Tomorrow will be a bittersweet day. I'm taking Carter and Chloe with me to put flowers on his grave. I wish with all my heart that they could have known their Great Grandpa Granger. I'll share some stories with them, but of course it won't be the same. We'll just have to settle for a visit with Great Grandma Granger. She's pretty cool too. <br />
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<br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-15446261270338753892014-01-23T17:44:00.000-06:002014-01-24T12:02:25.118-06:00So long George.....<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">What a great weekend I just spent with Erin! Shopping for baby clothes for my new great niece Jolie! Lunch out at Chilis! Driving all over downtown KC looking for the elusive "Liquor Store", and finally driving all the way back out to KCK before we found one! Hanging out at the Power and Light District, drinking free drinks! Finding friends in line to have fun with while waiting to get into the Sprint Center! Watching Eric Church! Falling down concrete steps and cracking my elbow open! GEORGE STRAIT LIVE!!!!!!! Standing out in the cold for 45 minutes with Rose and Evelyn, 2 little old ladies from Joplin, Missouri, trying to hail a cab! A trip to Truman Medical Center for stitches! Staying out till 4:00 AM! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Yes indeed, it was a night to remember. At least I'll know when I had my last tetanus shot, right? I mean, that's handy! The TMC Emergency Room is interesting, to say the least. Lots of drunks, passed out. A strange lady singing and warning of her bathroom problems. But above all, the nicest staff of nurses and Drs. I could have asked for. When I was "this" close to passing out, they started talking about Dolly's boobies just to distract me. Now who does that? The people around me at the Sprint Center were also very kind. There was a nurse sitting in front of us, and she took care of me till the medical staff took over. The dude pushing my wheelchair was a maniac! He was threatening to throw people out of the building if they didn't get out of his way! He might take his job just a little too seriously, that's all I'm sayin. And when I refused to leave the concert until George was done, they didn't push me. Pretty sure they knew if was useless. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And then there was George. Oh George. He sounds just as good today as he did 30 years ago. Now I'm really kicking myself for not buying tickets to the Wichita concert in April when I had the chance. Who knows? I might have been able to get through the night in one piece!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Sharing a few pictures from the night... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Cowboy Boots are a MUST for George.... pay no attention to those little bottles....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Fun at Power and Light!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Look who found us in line! Julie and her sisters! And some little guy???</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Eric who? (sorry, not a fan) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There's the evidence -- in case I decide to sue Sprint Center!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">my love!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">HI GEORGE!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">apparently I'm not his only fan....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Cowboy RIdes Away.....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">No George!!!! please don't go!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Feel free to stop here if you'd rather not see my ugly elbow!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">at the ER before they stitched it up</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">the day after.... bruises make everything look worse!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">At the end of the day, stitches and all, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. But only with my best friend by my side -- love ya Erin! Thanks for taking such good care of your momma!</span><br />
<br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-91672658074277074152013-12-15T20:58:00.002-06:002013-12-15T20:58:52.243-06:00Harry Houdini Bryson Douglas Whitesell<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's the story</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of a cat named Harry</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who was born ten long years ago</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His momma kicked him</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Out of the family</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cuz he was abnormal</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's the story</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">of a mom named Barb</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who heard this kitten crying, all alone</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They were destined</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To find each other</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And that's the way they all became a family</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Raise your hand if you don't know who Harry is. My former co-workers certainly knew Harry. He spent his first couple of weeks with me at work until he was politely asked to leave. The constant screaming might have been an issue. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I found baby Harry, he was cold, wet and hungry. I swept him up, dried him off and fed him watered down milk that night, and went to the pet store the next day to stock up on all things needed to keep a baby kitten alive. He gained weight and thrived despite chronic diarrhea. (this would be where the constant screaming came into play) We later learned he suffered from a mild case of Cerebellar Hypoplasia, basically Cerebral Palsy for cats. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He quickly became a beloved member of our family, and Greg was particularly attached to him. He also developed a bit of a mean streak. Like, when he was 3 months old, and Greg and I weren't home. Erin and Brent stopped by, and Harry wouldn't let them in the back door. They were finally able to run him off to the basement and come inside, but he was not happy about it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another odd thing about Harry. He didn't meow; he screamed. And once he figured out his scream would scare people, he relished in it. He also liked to reach out and swipe people as they walked past him. It was particularly funny when they didn't know he was nearby, thus not expecting it. There was really only one person that he couldn't act up around, and that was Greg. For some reason, he just knew better than to mess with Daddy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Once Harry was old enough to stay outside, he became a part time house cat. He only used the litter box periodically, which was big problem. For the last several years, he only came in at night, so he could sleep with his daddy. First thing in the morning, he was back outside. During the winter, Greg took pity on him and let him stay in the shop all day, out of the bad weather. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Visitors to Greg's shop were all very familiar with Harry and his ways. On the rare occasion someone new would stop by, he loved to trick them into thinking Harry was such a sweet, loving kitty -- "here, you can pet him" he would say, knowing exactly what was about to happen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the grandkids showed up, Harry was not amused, to say the least. He tolerated them at best, and always made sure they knew he was boss. Both kids learned very quickly not to mess with Harry UNLESS Greg was holding him. Old Harry knew better than to be mean to those kids when he was in Greg's arms. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm sure by now you've figured out why I'm writing this homage to Harry. Today, he finally picked on the wrong dog, and lost the battle. I tried to get him to the vet, but he just couldn't hold on that long. It's a pretty sad night here at the Bryson farm. About now, Harry should be laying on the couch with Greg, snuggling up to him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Will I miss stepping into cat poop on my way to the basement some mornings? Definitely not. But I'll miss those occasional times he felt generous enough to let me love on him for a few minutes, before he told me in no uncertain terms I was done. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now is the part when I say rest in peace Harry old Buddy. But I think we all know peace wasn't in Harry's destiny. I tend to think he's down stairs giving the devil a run for his money. Get 'em Harry!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-78890002105749200032013-11-27T21:29:00.000-06:002013-11-27T21:29:15.302-06:00Talkin' Turkey
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy
Thanksgiving Eve (if I get this posted tonight).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really should not be sitting here writing a
post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s floors to mop,
people!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, my partner who OFFERED
to scrub them is asleep on the couch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hmp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I mention it’s not even
8:30?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought for sure the noise from
the vacuum cleaner would stir him, but not so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also on tap, a delicious Cocoa Apple Cake to
be made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ooh, I should totally write a
post about that on </span><a href="http://barb-wired-cooks.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">my cooking
blog!</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thanksgiving
plans include a Granger get-together on Thursday at Jan and Keith’s house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So excited that Libby was able to come home
for a few weeks from Afghanistan!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
she’s here for a few more days, and then once she goes back, will only be there
a couple of more months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will feel much
better when she’s home for good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I
swear if she volunteers to go to some other war zone again, I’m gonna wring her
neck! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I mention how proud I am of
her?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So anyway, back to the plans…
depending on the Black Friday ads, Erin and I are heading to Topeka some time
mid to late Thursday afternoon to get started shopping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hoping to be home by 10:00 AM Friday or
earlier (please please please) since I’m hosting the Bryson Thanksgiving here
at noon on Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially since I
haven’t started cooking anything for that dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well that’s not entirely true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I baked a loaf of bread today to use in my
dressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But sometime Friday when I’m
not catching up on my sleep, I’ve got to bake a turkey and a ham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And cook my potatoes and make my gravy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And dressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That way on Saturday, it’s really just a matter of warming everything up
without drying it out, and enjoying the day and the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And the Apple Pie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Moonshine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeehaw!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made that yesterday, and I simmered the
cider, juice and sugar for about an hour to concentrate the flavors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well Mr. Bryson, who considers himself a bit
of a liquor connoisseur (and rightly so I guess) deemed it too sweet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After adding another jug of apple juice and a
jug of EverClear it’s pretty darn tasty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But I have to remind myself it’s for SIPPING, not chugging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since
Erin and I are going shopping, and Brent is working Thursday and Friday, Carter
will be spending Thursday night here with Papa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Miss Chloe gets to go to Lyndon and stay with Grandma Gibby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some reason, no one wants to watch both
of them alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t imagine
why!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to admit, sometimes it is
a little easier with just one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like when
I’m trying to get Chloe to take a nap or go to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s pretty much a lost cause when big
brother is around since 1) he doesn’t want her to sleep, and 2) she only wants
to do whatever Carter is doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But If I’m
trying to get something done (like today… cleaning house…) Carter does a pretty
good job of entertaining Chloe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of
the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except when he’s helping her
find trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, he happily showed
her the door to the laundry chute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up
until now, I’ve managed to keep it covered with stuff so she had no idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stupid clean house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess now if I’m missing anything, I’ll be
in the basement checking the laundry pile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I took the two strands of Halloween Lights down today (hey – I didn’t
put them up till like Oct 28 or something, so I had to get my money’s worth)
and Carter threw an absolute fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told
him I had to take them down so we could put up Christmas lights, to which he
replied “I don’t want you to put up Christmas lights!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I whole heartedly agreed to NOT decorate
for Christmas, he back tracked pretty darn fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dang it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok –
I really have to get something done so I’m not up all night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I didn’t participate in the Daily
Thankful FB posts, I’ll share with my readers what I’m most thankful for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I'm thankful I can still call my momma and visit, take her to the store, or just hang out at her house, listening to her stories, (sometimes more than once). And believe me, I do not take any of that for granted.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m
thankful that my daughter and her wonderful family live less than 7 miles from
our house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watching my grandchildren
grow up and being such a big part of their lives is more than I could ask for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m
thankful to go to work every day to a job that I love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After 30 years, it’s about time!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m
thankful to be married to a man who puts up with me, takes care of me, makes me
laugh, and above all loves me more than I probably deserve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it wouldn't be right not to mention how thankful I am for all of my friends who read this little blog, and still want to be my friend!!! Sometimes I worry that I'm oversharing, but getting my thoughts out is my therapy, and you all know how much I love the attention it brings me! haha!! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And with that, I wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving, full of love, family, and good food. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-79853447131466608812013-11-17T11:07:00.001-06:002013-11-17T11:07:43.309-06:00Over SharingHave I ever mentioned that this isn't my first blog? When I left my job at Three Lakes Coop, I started reading a blog my friend Jill told me about. Reading that blog led to more, and the next thing I knew, I was starting my own blog on a little site called Live Journal. I blogged from Sept. 2006 to June of 2007. I vowed to continue writing after I went back to work, but soon found out that was really difficult to do, considering I couldn't write anything about my job, and that was pretty much my life at the time. When I decided to start back up, I chose to do so on blogger. My old blog is still there, just hanging out, waiting for someone to comment or add to it. I just checked on it, and there were 30 comments! Of course, they were all spam. Maybe someday I'll figure a way to import those posts into this blog (I did try, but no luck at the time) or maybe I'll just post a link to it for anyone who wants to relive my past. Maybe. Someday. <br />
<br />
The reason I brought all of this up is because lately on FB, everyone is posting lists of random facts about themselves, and it reminded me of the time I did a post revealing 100 things about myself. At the time, all the bloggers were doing so, and I just had to jump on for the ride. I thought it would be fun to share that list. Keep in mind I wrote it 7 years ago, while unemployed, and before grandchildren.<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Since all the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">cool kids</i> are doin’ it,<br />I now present:<br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><strong>100 things about me</strong></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> 1. I have
a blog. (huh – if you’re reading this, I guess you already know that one)</span><o:p></o:p><br />
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2. I love my husband, even if I don’t
always like him. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>3. I miss my dad, a lot.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>4. I miss working. (don’t tell anyone, ok?)</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>5. I procrastinate.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>6. I love to laugh.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7. I’m shy.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>8. I will never be skinny. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>9. My husband will never accept that I
will never be skinny.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>10. I have ADHD. (self diagnosed, of course)</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>11. I need to feel loved.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>12. I’m proud of my daughter.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>13. Even though I’m not an only child,
growing up, I spent most of my time alone.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>14. The best part of my childhood was
time spent playing in our barn.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>15. I like barns.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>16. I hate house cleaning, and it shows.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>17. I hate exercise, and it shows too.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>18. I can’t handle money. Actually, I
love to handle money, it’s the saving I have
a problem with.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>19. I love music so much, that it
doesn’t matter that I can’t sing, I do it
anyway.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>20. If I don’t know the words, I make them up.
</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>21. I have to be drunk to sing Karaoke.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>22. Mom likes me best.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>23. I’ve become obsessed with blogging –
so much so that I dream about other
bloggers.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>24. I always dream about my latest obsession.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>25. I was a band geek.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>26. I felt fat in high school, even though I
only weighed 120 lbs.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>27. I can twirl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The baton. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>28. I still have my High School Twirling
Outfit.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>29. I cannot fit into it.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>30. I am cold most of the time.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>31. Some days, I wear my jammies all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if I’m not sick.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>32. I had an ectopic pregnancy, and
didn’t know it until 3 days after the tube burst.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>33. I am lucky to be alive.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>34. I believe in God.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>35. I’m trying really hard to come up
with insightful facts to share with you.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>36. I don’t like conflict.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>37. I’ve never smoked a cigarette. Of
any kind. Including the illegal kind.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>38. I am not a goody two shoes.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>39. I am afraid of disappointing my family.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>40. If I didn’t have a reason to get up in
the morning, I’d sleep all day.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>41. Often, that reason is that I don’t want
GB
to yell at me.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>42. I collect cookbooks.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>43. I’m smarter than I think.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>44. I used to worry that my daughter
would be just like me.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>45. I don’t anymore.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>46. I am a tissue snob; I only buy Puffs Plus.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>47. I don’t follow-through with projects.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>48. I don’t have a favorite color.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>49. I don’t think there’s anything wrong
with </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">being gay.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>50. I’m glad my daughter isn’t.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>51. I wish the title of this was 50 things
about me.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>52. I belong to the 35<sup>th</sup> Division
of the Kansas National Guard.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>53. I joined as the daughter of a member.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>54. My dad fought in WWII.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>55. When I was little, I couldn’t keep a
secret.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>56. I can now, but it’s not easy.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>57. The easiest secrets to keep are
about myself.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>58. It’s 5:30 and I have no idea what I’m
fixing for supper.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>59. I get mad easily.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>60. I forgive and forget just as easily.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>61. I once hid my husband’s doo wop collection out of spite.
(see #59)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>62. I gave it back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(see #60)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>63. I get giddy when someone leaves a comment on my blog.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>64. I really need to get a life.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>65. I’m collecting unemployment and I’m
proud of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Suck it JB.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>66. I’ll be in deep shit when the
unemployment runs out.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>67. My next job WILL BE the perfect job.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>68. I may never return to work.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>69. heh heh<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My sister graduated from high school in 1969.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>70. I got arrested when I was 16 for using
a fake ID to get into a disco.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>71. I only did it to meet guys – I
wasn’t drinking beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I swear.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>72. I didn’t meet any guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unless you count the cop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And the judge.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>73. I now laugh about this incident, but
the girl that was with me does not.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>74. I know how to shoot a gun.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>75. I’m starting to get into this list.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>76. I can only have one best friend at a
time.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>77. Unless you count my daughter – in
that case, I’ll always have two.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>78. My Chiefs boyfriend is Jared Allen<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>79. If it wasn’t for my sister, I would
have never met my husband.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>80. I never thanked her for that.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>81. I am not pretty, but my daughter,
who looks just like me, is beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>82. We’re having breakfast for supper.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>83. I cook bacon in the oven, AND I make my own syrup.</span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>84. If I didn’t take Zoloft, I would cry
all day long.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>85. Sometimes I cry anyway – just on the inside.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>86. My favorite movie of all time is <em><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Animal
House</span></em>.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>87. I use the drive thru at McDonalds so people won’t judge me. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>88. If I could throw up at-will, I might
consider becoming bulimic.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>89. I won’t, because I want to live to
see my grandkids.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>90. I ‘m sharing waaaay to much.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>91. I pick at scabs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can’t help myself.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>92. I scar easily. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>93. I scare easily too.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>94. My Grandma Crook was da bomb.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>95. I burned the bacon.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>96. I’d rather sleep with my cat than my husband. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>97. My husband snores; my cat does not. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>98. I am a good doggy grandma. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>99. I’m sad I’m almost done.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">100. I’m
not done sharing.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span></div>
<div class="entry-footer" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Posted
on Oct. 17th, 2006 at 01:16 pm<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span></div>
</span><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Well now, that was interesting! Some of those things may or may not still be true. And I may have still been a bit bitter about my last job, Sorry JB. (not that she reads this) I kinda wish I would have sat down and written a new list BEFORE I read this old one. Just to see how many things I might have repeated. Oh well - too late for that!<br />
<br />
Just for fun, here's a picture from back in the day too. I think we were going out for our anniversary or a birthday or something. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAq3o6T_Z_FrIGVb9pw6HvFsMEcEbh-896Z4fp5ZNYNQWBLR-pQXududrBZds0tvJY0C23KPZ5YUzlwEGQkCd5QZhLFkeznuxoRGtrfUOKcF3ClPJJ-NqFnc-38pHzdBxO57Mcau8ZqOd/s1600/18986_600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAq3o6T_Z_FrIGVb9pw6HvFsMEcEbh-896Z4fp5ZNYNQWBLR-pQXududrBZds0tvJY0C23KPZ5YUzlwEGQkCd5QZhLFkeznuxoRGtrfUOKcF3ClPJJ-NqFnc-38pHzdBxO57Mcau8ZqOd/s320/18986_600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Hmm, I may have stumbled onto something with recycling old blog posts! Don't worry - I promise I'll write something new soon. </div>
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-49332876498796158162013-10-02T18:46:00.001-05:002013-10-02T18:47:20.000-05:00Who You Callin' Crazy?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Depression. I don't know anyone who hasn't uttered the words "ugh, I'm so depressed" at least a few times in their lives. You didn't get the job? Your favorite team just lost the Super Bowl? You ran out of chocolate ice cream? Let me tell you something. You may feel sad, but depressed? That's a whole nother world, and unless you can't function for months, can't get out of bed and get dressed, can't cook, can't clean your house, and/or can't face being around other people, you are most certainly NOT depressed. Can you imagine a life where you are so dependent on chemicals that if you go one day without them, all you can think of is how much easier it would be if you just ended your life? I guarantee you know someone who has been diagnosed with Clinical Depression. You probably work with them, socialize with them, maybe you even live with them, and at the very least, you read their blog. And unless you snooped in their medicine chest, you probably are blissfully unaware of their condition. Do you know why that is? I mean, I bet you know plenty of people who have High Blood Pressure or High Cholesterol, maybe someone with a life threatening condition like kidney failure or cancer. They all talk about how expensive the medicine is or how much work they've missed due to their condition. But how often do you hear anyone talking about Depression? There's a reason for that. There is still a stigma attached to "mental" illness that leads society to believe those suffering from it have a character flaw. Too many people don't understand that Depression is a medical condition just like acne or migraine headaches. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well I'm here to tell you, loud and proud, that even though I suffer from Depression, I'm not crazy in the head, and you don't have to be afraid of me. I can be a wonderful friend. I can excel in my job, and work rings about my coworkers. I'm smart, loving, and fun. All I have to do is take a little pill every morning, along with my pills for high blood pressure, thyroid disease, and diabetes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I also want to tell you that if you identify with any of these </span><a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/depression/DS00175/DSECTION=symptoms" target=""><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">symptoms of depression</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, PLEASE do not be afraid to talk to you Dr. about it. You cannot imagine the difference treatment can make in not only your life, but in your loved ones lives as well. Living with someone with Depression is not easy. Just ask my husband. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please get educated on depression, and don't judge people who have it. We're really no different than you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-8967229633210446552013-08-26T18:25:00.000-05:002013-08-26T18:25:46.384-05:00Cattle Man<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Well what a fun weekend we had with Carter Bug. We took him to the Ranch Rodeo at Beef Fest in Emporia on Friday night. That was Carter's first rodeo, and he was extremely excited! We ate at their BBQ supper first, then walked around looking at equipment for a bit. As usual, Papa found someone to visit with, so Carter and I had to sit and wait on him for a while. I told him I wanted to take his picture, and this is what I got. That's supposed to be his goofy look. Goofy alright!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We finally went in and sat in the grandstand. Carter wanted to take pictures of the rodeo. He has an unusual perspective.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I think his favorite event was the wild cow milking. He got such a kick out of those guys trying to milk that old cow, and he was worried about what they were doing with the milk when they got done. There was another little boy sitting close to us, and I overheard a part of their conversation. He asked Carter what his favorite kind of truck was. Carter replied "diesel". Carter also told him his favorite color was camouflage. If that's not a mini Greg Bryson, I don't know who is! He wasn't very happy to hear the rodeo was over and it was time to go home. Now he's in search of some spurs and he's planning to do the calf scramble in the next Burlingame Rodeo.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Sunday, Carter got to go along to the pasture to check cattle. Of course he had to take his new gun along. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Carter loves papa's cow so much and wants to pet them. Now Greg's cows are pretty tame, as cows go. But they just aren't to be trusted enough to let the little guy roam around with them. If he got between them and their range cubes, it wouldn't be pretty. We tried having him feed them off the back of the truck, and it worked for a minute. One old cow ate right off the back and he got to pet her a little. The rest of the time, Greg carried him out into the middle and tried to get close enough. For some reason, some of those old cows were very interested in my camera. They came right up to me to check it out. Silly old rips (as Carter would say)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">EXTREME CLOSE UP!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">When we were finished feeding, Greg let Carter drive the truck to the road. As you can tell from this picture, that pasture is bumpy!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">The last thing we had to do -- shut the gate. He's not so much help now, but I know Papa can't wait till he can do it on his own!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I so enjoy taking Carter along on days like this. He takes it all in and loves every minute of it. And soon enough the day will come when Miss Chloe wants to go too! Sounds like papa better get to shopping for a crew cab! (Diesel of course)</span><br />
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-80016835133916225962013-07-29T13:34:00.001-05:002013-07-29T13:34:51.871-05:00Much Too Old To Act This Damn Young<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Happy Monday Everyone!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happy Monday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it is a happy Monday, for the most part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For more than one reason even!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First of all, it means the weekend is over, which may normally not be a good thing, but believe me, today?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some stupid reason I tried to relive my twenties and drank not once, not twice, but three days in a row.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t ask me what I was thinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, I think I’ll blame Erin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Afterall, she was present on 2 of the 3 days, and the third day we were drinking leftovers, so yeah I totally blame her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Erin!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stop being such a bad influence on your mommy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heh heh<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The second reason it’s a happy Monday is my office is quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As in no one is speaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And today, trust me, that is a very good thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s all I’m going to say about that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Third reason……… uh, hmmm….. stretching here….. it’s 4 days till payday?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh wait!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I KNOW!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s raining!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It rained all morning in Topeka.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you forget I live on a FARM?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I’m excited for the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just hope it’s raining down south too!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I’ve done some preliminary planning for the Bryson Family Vacation coming up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got the hotel rooms booked in Beatrice and Hastings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’d be surprised at how quickly hotels fill up for the farm show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a BIG DEAL ya’ll! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still need to reserve the golf cart, so we don’t have to stand in line for hours waiting to get one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although, as I recall those line jumpers got the evil eye and may have even feared for their lives a little last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course since I won’t be looking at them this year, it will probably be ok!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m especially excited this year, because our friends Rick and Mary and going to the farm show too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s more fun when you’ve got a girl to hang out with, not that there’s any girly things to do at the farm show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least I won’t have to go pee by myself!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I’d like to find something else new and exciting to do while we’re in Nebraska, but I’m not sure there IS anything exciting to do in Nebraska!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We always go through Pawnee City on the way up so we can stock up on wine and beer at our favorite winery, hence the hotel in Beatrice (closest town to pass out, err I mean sleep in).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there we go to Lincoln to stock up on stuff at Greg’s favorite surplus place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So between Lincoln and Hastings, there’s not much to see, unless we go out of our way a bit and Greg’s never too receptive to that idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So if you know of anything awesome in Nebraska that we should check out, please share!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I do have some sad news to report.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom finally made the difficult decision to put down her cat Spooky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was 23 years old, suffering from kidney failure, had all but stopped eating and taking care of herself, and was nothing but skin and bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though we knew it was the right decision, she kept second guessing herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m hoping after a while, she might show some interest in getting another kitty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She won’t want a house cat – she’s never been a fan of litter boxes – but maybe we can get a cat that’s a year or two old that won’t run off and can defend itself against the coyotes and fox that live near her neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve suggested getting a house dog in the past, but she doesn’t think she’s up to house training a dog, and doesn’t want the worries of leaving one in the house all day if she goes somewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure if she decides she needs some company, we’ll come up with something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-56714282287104787992013-07-18T17:21:00.000-05:002013-07-18T17:21:03.927-05:00Things That Make Me Go #%*&^$#&*%^&*#$(*@&#&*^@#$<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I’ve got a few negative things to get off my chest today. Clearing the air, so to speak, so I can move on to my happy place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here’s what’s bothering me today -- </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Neighbors who don’t feed their cattle. Sure there was a shortage of hay last year, and what was available was pretty expensive. Here’s a thought. If you can’t afford to feed your cows, sell the damn things! And while you’re at it, how bout you fix your POS fence. We’re really getting tired of having to chase your cattle off of our bean field and away from our hay. And why the hell doesn’t the Osage County Sheriff’s Department do something about it? We aren’t the only ones who have filed a complaint. I suppose it’s up to us to take him to small claims court for the crop loss. That’s bull shit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Disclaimer -- If you are reading this and trying to figure out which neighbor I’m talking about, remember when you live in the country, the word neighbor applies to anyone within a 10 mile radius of not only your home, but your farm ground as well, which can be miles from said home. In other words – you’ll never guess, unless you are one of his neighbors as well. </em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Dumb People. As in seemingly normal people who know what they’re supposed to do, but are either too ignorant or too lazy to care. You know the type. You run into them all the time. At work, at the convenience store, at the grocery store, at work, at lunch, at work. You are trying my patience, dumb people. I suppose I should welcome the challenge of sharing the same air as you without saying something rude, but nope. For the love of all that is good and holy, please think before you speak, or better yet, just go away. Oh, and did I mention users? People who could and should make every effort to help themselves, but would rather sit back and beg for help from others who are too kind to question their motives. Yeah, those people need to go away too. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Slow drivers. Everyone knows I drive too fast, and as I’ve been told more than once, I should slow down and enjoy the view. And sometimes I do that. But come ON people! At least drive the speed limit, ok? If you’re out on the Interstate, or some other 4 lane road, drive as slow as you want. I can pass you. But when you’re in town, unless you’re getting ready to turn, or need to change lanes, just move over and get outta my way, mmkay? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Mechanics. Specifically mechanics who think I’m just a dumb woman who knows nothing. Hey dummy – guess what? We got your number. Your bosses at the dealership aren’t selling enough new cars, so they’ve instructed you to find enough wrong on older vehicles to “total” the vehicle so we’ll buy something new rather than spend a fortune to fix the old beater. And hey – here’s a clue – don’t try to transfer me to a salesman right after you break the news that it’s going to cost $8600 to fix my 13 year old truck. I’m not as dumb as you look. Oh and btw, I got it fixed. And I only spent $700. It's a miracle!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">WELL. I don’t know about you, but I feel much better now! Moving on to my favorite 4 year old.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You know, I’ve know Carter admired Luke Bryan for a while now. After all, he did memorize the opening to Country Girl Shake It For Me. (Hey Girl….Come On Now….You Know You Got Everybody Lookin’) Nothing wrong with learning pick up lines from Luke Bryan. But after yesterday, I’m starting to wonder if he’s on the verge of turning into a stalker. The conversation went something like this</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Carter: Meema? Does Luke Bryan know me?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Meema: no sweetie, Luke doesn’t know you.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">C: well, where does he live?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">M: oh, I don’t know for sure – probably in Nashville.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">C: well we should go to his house!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">M: I don’t know if he’s home. Plus that’s a long way from here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">C: well is Luke Bryan real?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">M: yes, he’s real!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">C: well we need to go to his house so I can meet him!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">C: What kind of truck does Luke Bryan drive?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">M: ???</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">C: I think it‘s white</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Next thing you know he’ll be asking Siri for Luke Bryan’s phone number! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">After watching the Emmys the last few years and seeing all of the awards go to cable shows I’ve never seen, I decided I needed to see what all the fuss was about. Enter Netflix and Amazon Prime. When the Emmy nominations came out today, I’m happy to say that I fully understand why so many went to awesome shows like House of Cards, Homeland, Mad Men, Downton Abby and Breaking Bad. Still need to check out Game of Thrones and Boardwalk Empire, but at least I won’t feel like the only girl without a Prom Date on Emmy night this year. There is one thing I’m still scratching my head over though -- why wasn’t Big Brother nominated for Outstanding Reality Show????</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">OK - I shared with you, now tell me what's bugging you!</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span>barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-30291023292918353912013-05-14T18:40:00.002-05:002013-05-14T18:40:34.223-05:00Mother's Day Breakfast Burritos<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As mentioned in my previous post, here is my recipe for breakfast burritos. Not exactly reinventing the wheel here, just a tweak or two.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMmq1eSc2WYqQUax_GoqjlyRGnIu8GRXHdeRhphWfU3-r_Vwj44tQGo9FTB0HkCAsFOzQwaB8o6Q_Q8jO8liRMvTSoiLYlDSCEZKuH2c0oOI_v9L67WmrywNyh25-RfJbGVI4kMs8Meed/s1600/IMG_0633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" pua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMmq1eSc2WYqQUax_GoqjlyRGnIu8GRXHdeRhphWfU3-r_Vwj44tQGo9FTB0HkCAsFOzQwaB8o6Q_Q8jO8liRMvTSoiLYlDSCEZKuH2c0oOI_v9L67WmrywNyh25-RfJbGVI4kMs8Meed/s320/IMG_0633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">ingredients -- frozen hashbrowns, milk, flour tortillas, cream cheese, eggs, gravy mix and smoked sausage</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBxELtx0RKVpxOcG4ObJT3tkEQpad3Gai9BzxHgzcfuUeEUYArZ-0myj-CJ3QUIPtO5RPxNduhZhg34uJ2n01vcIZWwdAp7CVEW14iU-aScwu7Rz2AOinEmpAJbskaGXY0iymGUBc1hLi/s1600/IMG_0635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" pua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBxELtx0RKVpxOcG4ObJT3tkEQpad3Gai9BzxHgzcfuUeEUYArZ-0myj-CJ3QUIPtO5RPxNduhZhg34uJ2n01vcIZWwdAp7CVEW14iU-aScwu7Rz2AOinEmpAJbskaGXY0iymGUBc1hLi/s320/IMG_0635.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">step 1. cook hashbrowns as directed on package</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeW3TWzaWOjBmcKpevWxamZKcd5HSTXEc5cgiCRNW8s3BF8a4VmXne5QnpRJtZ7gmd2dLtY5zFsyU1JjvcfSeYLYq8VCNQ3EduxXMCyBxtH7cgv6Jjg58BedD3zCqB3Lo0RhTTkqwSLTD/s1600/IMG_0637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" pua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeW3TWzaWOjBmcKpevWxamZKcd5HSTXEc5cgiCRNW8s3BF8a4VmXne5QnpRJtZ7gmd2dLtY5zFsyU1JjvcfSeYLYq8VCNQ3EduxXMCyBxtH7cgv6Jjg58BedD3zCqB3Lo0RhTTkqwSLTD/s320/IMG_0637.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">dump in a big ass </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUWvMw6cvZ4mcbsYvWs-xi-xsRwwYOItESGgfR958E60y0jjvdbuO4j3YL27aq5FrjGL8wdWGiX3NSSoJiixUb9aKTpN_XdDzFMQWbToA1rxZJjbTM3V0MSjHJxd-NwYtJsXfY2PAGsvc/s1600/IMG_0636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" pua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUWvMw6cvZ4mcbsYvWs-xi-xsRwwYOItESGgfR958E60y0jjvdbuO4j3YL27aq5FrjGL8wdWGiX3NSSoJiixUb9aKTpN_XdDzFMQWbToA1rxZJjbTM3V0MSjHJxd-NwYtJsXfY2PAGsvc/s320/IMG_0636.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Step 2 - dice smoked sausage into small bite size pieces, and brown</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (sorry - no picture of the dicing - you'll have to use your imagination)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1aWGJpBWpOArokK4-CMSbbE2OzZgvpKszs4lIcqLcociqvtdt_r8avfFMHlInBOYDmLM4w2d1U1OllUHeWC59hHHDbWS6zkpRR3s6-vY95zii6BZmh5dIRBv3vd8RBPAY93uHpQ3mgWp/s1600/IMG_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" pua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1aWGJpBWpOArokK4-CMSbbE2OzZgvpKszs4lIcqLcociqvtdt_r8avfFMHlInBOYDmLM4w2d1U1OllUHeWC59hHHDbWS6zkpRR3s6-vY95zii6BZmh5dIRBv3vd8RBPAY93uHpQ3mgWp/s320/IMG_0638.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">here is what they look like after browning (duh)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">yep, you guessed it - dump in the big ass pan with the hashbrowns</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">next up -- eggs! Ideally, I would have Philadelphia Cooking Creme to add to the eggs, but since the plain old unspiced boring flavor was unavailable everywhere I looked (2 stores!) I had to use regular cream cheese - which means it looks lumpy when you combine it with the eggs - don't worry - it will melt eventually.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">Scramble the eggs and cheese until the eggs are set -- how bout that whisk action!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">do I have to say it? Ok fine - dump the eggs in the big ass pan</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">stir it all up till it looks like a mess. Add a lot of salt and pepper. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Actually now that I think about it, I think I salt and peppered the hashbrowns too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Doesn't really matter when, as long as you do it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">now you need to warm your tortillas in the microwave so they roll up without tearing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">and you're ready to assemble the burritos. Put a heaping spoonful of the mixture from the big ass pot on the tortilla and top it with a little bit of gravy. Crap - I forgot to make the gravy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;">Imagine this is a picture of a pan full of gravy mix and milk</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;">Follow the directions on the package and make the gravy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;">I had leftover gravy in the fridge so didn't have to make it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;">Sorry</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">No action shots of the folding of the tortilla - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">just go with whatever works for you so the stuff isn't falling out all over the place, mkay? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">Now wrap that bad boy up in some foil unless you're planning to eat it immediately. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">WAIT! If you're going to reheat them in the microwave, foil - not such a great idea. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">You heard it here -- if your microwave catches on fire, don't blame me! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Now for all the boring stuff for those of you cooks who don't just fly by the seat of your pants like I do. Ingredients and such.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Mother's Day Breakfast Burritos</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">32 oz frozen hash brown O'Briens</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">1 package Smoked Sausage (more if your husband won't stay out of them)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">12 eggs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">4 oz Philadelphia Cooking Creme, Original Flavor</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">salt and pepper to taste</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">18 flour tortillas (soft taco size)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">1 package sausage gravy mix prepared as directed on package</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Of course, you can use larger tortillas, which will result in fewer burritos (see how I did that?) I made smallish ones since there was going to be alot of other food to eat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">As a reformed gravy hater, I enjoy the gravy added in. If you haven't come over to the dark side, no prob - just leave the gravy out! Or if you're really crazy - dump that shit over the top of it! Go wild! Whatever makes you happy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"></span>barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-289574347615707882013-05-14T17:46:00.003-05:002013-05-14T17:46:23.388-05:00Preserving Memories<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well another Mother's Day has come and gone, and this year was an especially enjoyable one. Thanks to Erin's bright idea, we all fixed food and took it to Mom's house Sunday morning for brunch. So much good food, no one left the table hungry, I promise! One thing I fixed this year was breakfast burritos. I've discovered a new trick to making them extra yummy. Gravy! Doesn't take much - just a little on top of the filling before you roll them up. You'd be surprised at how good they are! Planning to do a post later with the recipe, so I can post it to Pinterest. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My only goal for Mother's Day this year was to get a 4 generation picture with my Mom, myself, Erin and Chloe. Some of us are not as photogenic as others in my family,(I'm talking about myself here) so getting a good picture of all four of us wasn't the easiest task. Add to that the sun shining in mom's eyes (NOT complaining about the sun - it was glorius!) and we were just hoping for one decent shot. Thanks to our expert photographer, Rosalie, we were successful. Carter even got in on the fun with his first photobomb. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the winner is.....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's a picture I will always treasure, and a family I will always treasure as well. Hope your Mother's Day was just as wonderful!</span></div>
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7381536970050785860.post-84669094164001400142013-04-08T13:56:00.000-05:002013-04-08T13:56:44.928-05:00Feeding My Memory<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My co-worker Gina and I made chicken salad for lunch today. When we started throwing things together, we realized it had been a while since we last made it and weren't even sure what all we used before. We definitely don't want to forget how to make it!! For that reason, and just because it's so yummy and we want to share, I'm posting the recipe here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Gina and Barb's Famous Chicken Salad</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 big can of chicken, drained</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 apple, chopped</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1/2 cup celery, chopped</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 cup grapes, halved</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 cup pecans</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 cup Miracle Whip</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">throw it all together in a big bowl and stir! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Yes -- it's that simple. Not exactly rocket science, but definitely worth making. It makes enough to feed 3 or 4 lunch easily. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Today, we finished off with a pinterest recipe for dessert. You can find it on either of our pinterest pages. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Crescent Roll Pecan Pie Bars</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Obviously they are delish -- it's half gone already!!! (and just in case you're wondering, no Gina and I did not eat all of that. Not quite. ha!) Tastes just like pecan pie, but uses crescent roll dough so you don't have to roll out pie dough. That's my kinda recipe! Gina did tell me she doubled everything except the crescent roll. More = better. Right?</span></div>
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barbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02867061988464505756noreply@blogger.com0