tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77431742024-03-12T21:59:27.859-04:00Art ChickStaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.comBlogger345125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-48904080963847554302013-03-26T09:41:00.003-04:002013-03-26T09:41:50.052-04:00To blog or not to blog...So the last post I made was in 2009. Holy. Poo. 2009! At the time it felt like I had nothing else to say and we were working through losing Sam the year before. The years since have been full of growing-up and understanding that this is the brokeness we've heard about. The losing of people, of trust, having to decide if some things are worth the fight and discomfort of rebuilding. <br /><br />Our boys are obviously older: we went from having "kids" to having a teen and a pre-teen. One going into high school this coming fall and the other will be starting jr high. They've seen loss and watched how people deal with it. They've struggled in their own ways and thankfully God was there to catch them when we had no idea they were ever in danger of falling.<br />
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But there's been fun stuff too: We have another nephew! Went on many roadtrips, spent time with people we love, met new people to love, swam in the ocean, drank good beer (and brewed good beer!), and got a dog. Can't ask for more than that, really. <br />
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The last big thing is that we moved. More on that later.<br />
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So this pretty much sums things up. I think we need a redesign around here. It may not be an everyday thing but with everything going on in the house and with the boys, this is probably still the easiest way for everyone to catch up outside of Facebook.<br />
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So yeah. Thanks for reading!Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-2854235672863594962009-04-22T21:30:00.004-04:002009-04-22T22:06:13.412-04:00At Tara in this fateful hour...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">[With my friend] in this fateful hour<br />I place all Heaven with its power<br />And the sun with its brightness,<br />And the snow with its whiteness,<br />And the fire with all the strength it hath,<br />And the lightning with its rapid wrath,<br />And the winds with their swiftness along their path,<br />And the sea with its deepness,<br />And the rocks with their steepness,<br />And the earth with its starkness:<br />All these I place By God’s almighty help and grace<br />Between myself and the powers of darkness.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">~ St. Patrick's Rune (variation) quoted in A Swiftly Tilting Planet</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Offering up prayers for a friend. And St. Patrick and his rune help me remember God isn't sitting at a desk taking incoming faxes. He is the Lord of all creation; not only the fire, winds and seas but also of the strength and fury they possess. He is a strong God. And He is forever on <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">our</span> side. I know we will win regardless. But hoping it will be in a way that's a little less painful for people I care about.</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-73534644778834692112009-04-13T20:30:00.002-04:002009-04-13T20:49:23.103-04:00Yo.There's no good way to start a new post after <strike>taking four months off</strike> totally ignoring this blog for the last four months. I stopped blogging for a while. That's pretty much it. I'm not sure if I have anything to say right now, to be honest. The <a href="http://www.faithandart.blogspot.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Faith & Art Blog</span></span></a> should pick up here again soon (it slowed down after Sam died.) I've had a few friends ask about it and over the last few months I've been processing the crap we've been through and realized, once again, that I was right all along with regard to the fact that <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I am nothing without my creativity</span> as it's one of my strongest life-lines to God and my faith. I just really feel incomplete if I'm not able to create something... anything... on a regular basis. I'm not sure why I've fought that off and on for so long (maybe because it doesn't pay the bills and often takes the place of doing other, more "responsible" things like folding laundry or unloading the dishwasher?) <div><br /></div><div>We'll see.</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-61979761618400637342008-12-06T17:03:00.005-05:002013-09-19T13:41:50.416-04:00Thinking.<img alt="Faith & Art" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276802117410832050" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/STr3kW5NPrI/AAAAAAAAApU/owwHlPR0xWo/s320/blog_fa_bannerTHUMB.jpg" style="display: block; height: 65px; text-align: left; width: 160px;" title="Faith & Art" /><br />
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I posted this: <a href="http://faithandart.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-faith-and-art.html" target="_blank"><b>My Faith. And art.</b></a> over at the Faith & Art blog. Still processing.Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-4681260491303421922008-12-01T20:55:00.002-05:002008-12-01T21:22:20.957-05:00Thanksgiving recap.<div>I hope you all had a really great Thanksgiving. Lianne and the girls were with us and the rest of our immediate family at my parents house. And most of the day was good. It was just long. And still so close to having lost Sam that things just felt odd. I can't say, "we'll get used to it." Because I don't think we will. I know Lianne never will.</div><div><br /></div><div>In an attempt to remember that we do still have things to be thankful for, here's my little recap of our weekend...</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Lor9QGqOXjipHr9_BecHfQ?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/STSSoYXAvbI/AAAAAAAAAnk/ZfjBNItjNWo/s400/IMG_6180.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Wednesday evening I cooked turkey #1. All 20 lbs of him. Rusty carved him up and we stashed it in the fridge for the next day. Thursday morning I cooked turkey #2 (a mere 12 pounder.) He went to my parents house all in one piece. By the time we left we had one carved turkey, one whole turkey, multiple pans of buttered egg noodles, cranberry-orange relish, stuffing and butter beans leaving the house with us, heading to my mom's for dinner with multiple family members. It was yummy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday morning I hauled my booty out of bed only so I could meet up with three friends from high school. My WW posse, if you must know - Jen, Amer and Laurie. Laurie was in town from KY and it was so good to see her. We spent three hours at Panera and it was just so comfortable. I forgot how nice it is to be around people who've known you your whole life. I appreciated not having to explain the stuff with Sam... because they were living it as well. I've known Jen since kindergarten and Laurie since first grade. Amer came along in high school and we were best friends almost the moment we met. I honestly love these women and cherish their friendship.</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday night, Jen and Amer showed up to party down (a.k.a. order Chinese food and watch ELF though we ended up ordering the food and talking for five hours instead.) Much needed talk. </div><div><br /></div><div>On Saturday, Rusty finally made his way home from his overnight of fun and somewhat inebriated frivolity at Chris and Derek's. We took the boys out and picked out a Christmas tree! I'm excited because in Maryland we always ordered a live tree from our church (Cedar Ridge spoiled us - every year our tree was beautiful!) When we got here for some reason we put up an artificial tree that bugged me. This year Rusty and I made the executive decision to go live again. We picked up a beauty for cheap!</div><div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TOLt46_bsijYs4jKZdYMZg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/STSSwRObuFI/AAAAAAAAAn0/iBYR2ZB3cYw/s400/IMG_6205.JPG" /></a><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>It's all lit up... old school. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/n0fQWM0Fd3p1O2BwFZHSwg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/STSSu84uxlI/AAAAAAAAAnw/XDsE9e-FH6o/s400/IMG_6212.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>But we have yet to dig out the ornaments. It's been a long few weeks... we'll get to it! The candles are in the windows and other stuff is around so it's getting more and more festive every day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was my niece, Callie's, birthday party. She turned three today. She's a riot and a sweetheart and I'm so glad she's ours. Lianne's house was full of shrieking girls and rowdy boys with my parents, the four of us kids with our spouses and our own kids running around like loons. There was dancing (to the Wiggles. The birthday girl requested it.) and hysterical laughter as we watched some of the grandkids bust a move elf style. If I can embed it, I'll post it here. It's cute.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then today Sean was home with a sore throat. Not strep, thankfully, as we were at the pediatrician's office this morning. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4hWFQ20gn5xPYarm7bTvog?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/STSSqvFemnI/AAAAAAAAAno/N-79e6Z0tZM/s400/IMG_6187.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>But it was cold and then snowy so we came home and ate soup and watched it snow while I did laundry.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there you go. I know you all believe I live the life of a rock star (it's ok. It's an understandable mistake, I'm sure.) But that was our long weekend. I didn't promise excitement, just a recap. And if I owe you email or a phone call, have mercy and know that life is kicking our butts right now. We'll get to it eventually...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-79790751292701278392008-11-12T22:28:00.005-05:002008-11-12T22:58:05.225-05:00House update photos<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/y5vV4mdKvdglBSeYOLEfoA?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SRuVvw3Ax7I/AAAAAAAAAlk/qFJsMqm37Po/s400/IMG_6155.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br />Well, there's the front door. Four coats of paint. A new kick-plate and the door knocker is back in place. It looks so much better than it did a few months ago. And the red door/black shutters/white trim color scheme matches not only our Lakota East school district but also our University of Maryland Terps flag. There is balance in the force.<br /><br />In other news, we finally got the family room painted. The only major thing left to do in there is to put up the crown molding. I'm not worried, it'll happen after the holidays. Probably during the long, cold January when I'm banging my head against the wall out of frustration at the horrid weather. But now you can see more of what Brent did. He's a rehab genius (and the guy can sing.) I can't believe he's willing to be friends with two schmoes like Rusty and myself.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ieDjjvhYs-sI6zyVUm8RIA?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SRuVzgODsqI/AAAAAAAAAlo/grRWyXBdbkc/s400/IMG_6156.JPG" /></a><br /></div>And yes, that is a cozy fire in the fireplace. A fire that I built, while Rusty is away with Liam on the fourth grade trip to Camp Kern until Friday. It's been cold and rainy all day. I had no choice.<div><br />And this is our new Ikea purchase.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jHhjbDio4oAYrD3T2gIrAg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SRuV3YRnP8I/AAAAAAAAAls/fEQd4-UP6P8/s400/IMG_6157.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br />We needed something behind the sofa so the boys wouldn't put their foot through the back of it as they slide around the kitchen floor. And we need storage for the random hats, gloves, scarfs and shoes that are strewn about the entire first floor of our house. This was the best solution. The lamp on the side is not staying there. There is also an oval, black framed mirror waiting to be hung above the fireplace but I'm too tired so there you go. </div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. Notice the empty shelves. I need to unpack some boxes in our storage area downstairs (some things I haven't seen since we packed to move to Maryland in 2003.)</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-49689862813355044592008-11-06T09:37:00.002-05:002008-11-06T09:51:38.710-05:00Cake Wrecks, anyone?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SRMBqCRrzHI/AAAAAAAAAlM/_x-aV052h8E/s1600-h/walmart.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SRMBqCRrzHI/AAAAAAAAAlM/_x-aV052h8E/s400/walmart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265554211003419762" /></a><br />Holy cow. If you haven't read the <a href="http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Cake Wrecks</span></span></a> blog and you're looking for something to make you laugh hysterically? Click the link. To get the full appreciation for the author, go back to the archives and read from the beginning (May, 2008.)<div><br /></div><div>I'm going to be making sure I take a more in-depth look at the bakery case at Kroger next time I'm there...</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-71970201989372562872008-11-05T01:59:00.003-05:002008-11-05T02:27:23.153-05:00Seriously?<div>I've been respectful. I've been quiet. I've not argued or belittled. And I voted for Obama. Because I believe he is a good man and he has good ideas. I don't expect everyone to agree with me and I don't ask them to. But I do ask that you quit sending the emails saying he's the anti-Christ. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Quit questioning my faith</span>. Or whether my Christianity is as valid as yours. It's one thing to disagree about politics. It's a whole other realm of wrong to start questioning someone's relationship with God. I had hoped you knew me well enough to respect my decisions and know I make them with prayer and a lot of thought. I'm not a poll number or a color on a map. You know me. So stop it.</div><div><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-27095069326325191242008-11-01T22:34:00.002-04:002008-11-01T22:39:00.814-04:00<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_6gVX2Dvhja7ZxbJyc5Qdg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQ0RocUJV0I/AAAAAAAAAj0/whhEzPT--sM/s400/IMG_6120.JPG" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In this photo Sean is:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote>A. Showing off his piratey hand-to-hand combat skills</blockquote><blockquote>B. Reacting to Rusty's remark that real pirates don't carry smiley face pumpkins</blockquote><blockquote>C. Playing air banjo</blockquote></div><div style="text-align: left;">(<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Note: if you've ever met Sean then you won't be the least bit surprised to find out that the correct answer is C.</span>)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-19683577643490074392008-10-29T20:46:00.005-04:002008-10-29T22:58:32.222-04:00My life, in a nutshell.So here it is, almost Halloween. Which is evident by what's galavanting around my front lawn this week:<div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/e_2wcaO-T2L8rK78gszEkg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkEnX7cu0I/AAAAAAAAAjI/lZjjQdxA5nM/s400/IMG_6044.JPG" /></a><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Personally, I'd rather see Captain Jack Sparrow take on Han Solo than Luke. But that's just me (Luke's a whiner. He just wants to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">go get some power converters!</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">)</span></span> </div><div><br /></div><div>Since the last time I posted something... September?!... things have been busy with soccer, having work done on the house by a friend of ours (Brent rocks) as well as doing work ourselves (crappily caulked front doors with rotting wood do <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span>, in fact, rock.) </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rWMimppmCgH8SyAICSPcqA?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkErIIfl0I/AAAAAAAAAjQ/UvJCzQin1pU/s400/IMG_6046.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Family room, in progress. Brent put in recessed lighting in the family room and kitchen. And he put built-in bookcases in the family room on either side of the fireplace. He also framed-out and dry-walled the top half of the fireplace so only some of the ugly brick is now showing. FYI, the shelves are not yet in the bookcases in this photo because this photo is old.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wicvIr6pOrJjeLl2Bcoi_A?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkE56t1N9I/AAAAAAAAAjs/9aWCx9aWmSw/s400/IMG_6035.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Front door, before we scraped out all the bad caulk and chipped paint. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/huKK-PKLfvSNIHL0c2OunQ?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkE2DVojzI/AAAAAAAAAjo/Kp3MAi2ZS0c/s400/IMG_6062.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Front door, after we sanded, painted and re-caulked. The new kick-plate and door knocker still need to be added.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately after Brent did the lights and built-in's, we painted the built-in bookcases but still hadn't decided on a color for the brown walls. Until now. We decided on... brown. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ZRdEyn7HEHqPug69wSB9kw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkEtHL_qBI/AAAAAAAAAjU/1aqziK4KX80/s400/IMG_6047.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>So painting and touching up all the brown walls will be happening this week. And hopefully all the family room furniture currently in the dining room will move back into the family room. I'm aiming for Christmas at this point.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right about the same time, while trying to decide what the heck color to paint, I made new curtains for the kitchen and family room, to tie the new blue color into the existing kitchen color scheme*:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7GAESFrJJzbNLTBIEbkzLg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkEvAWGNQI/AAAAAAAAAjY/s5uc65wNkD8/s400/IMG_6056.JPG" /></a><br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I took apart one of the old curtains and used them as patterns for the new ones.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TtQmTpP9TbgWQpuG8CbOFA?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkExbfLPEI/AAAAAAAAAjc/w_ZXcNJVirU/s400/IMG_6060.JPG" /></a><br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">One completed curtain using the Waverly fabric and a set of </span><a href="http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/30090117"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ikea LENDA curtains</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(the other curtain is now completed and actually matches and is even and everything.)</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, three dear friends of mine and I have been battling the bulge with Weight Watchers since the end of the summer. Thankfully it's working! And though I'm thrilled about being in smaller sizes, it's the fact that my insulin resistance issues could go away that's getting me really into this process.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_ibJgnYb451KACRMAQUlgw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SQkE77JecPI/AAAAAAAAAjw/eQsait67MLE/s400/IMG_6066.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is me. Two sizes smaller than I was in 2005 when I last wore this dress when my youngest sister got married.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Then last week my mom got sick and we took her to the ER on Saturday where she was admitted to the cardiac unit overnight. Turns out her heart is good. But her case of bronchitis had gotten the best of her and kicked her booty while we weren't looking. Thankfully, as of Sunday she's home and ok and just tired now.</div><div><br /></div><div>So that about sums up my last month or so. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">*I now have a set of 2 brick red curtains, 2 khaki and brick red vertical striped curtains - all full length - along with four red and off-white patterned Waverly valances if anyone can use them (free!) I can send you photos if you'd like.</span></div></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-33270873441094462772008-09-28T17:09:00.004-04:002008-09-28T17:30:16.670-04:00Paul Newman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SN_ymSaLhtI/AAAAAAAAAhc/uUZNYdqLuOk/s1600-h/lobday_0049_Layer_51_full.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SN_ymSaLhtI/AAAAAAAAAhc/uUZNYdqLuOk/s400/lobday_0049_Layer_51_full.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251182430127883986" /></a>One Christmas when I was little, my cousins and I all received music boxes from my grandparents. My music box played <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head</span>. I was probably only six or seven years old but I loved that music box because I had big crushes on Paul Newman and Robert Redford after seeing part of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid</span> on TV (I'd have ridden my bike with either of them.) Seriously, Paul Newman was the very definition of the term "Movie Star." Now there's one less person with a soul and a conscience in Hollywood. <div><br /><div>Do yourself a favor and go watch <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Hud</span>, or <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Coolhand Luke</span>, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid</span>, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Cat on a Hot Tin Roof</span>, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Hustler </span>or even <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Cars </span>(he was the voice of "Doc.") Honestly, there are just too many great Paul Newman performances to name them all. </div></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-59538490020697382562008-09-24T23:38:00.005-04:002008-09-25T00:13:24.224-04:00Biggest Loser.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SNsOX-PsDpI/AAAAAAAAAhM/oIieeF8_3Pc/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SNsOX-PsDpI/AAAAAAAAAhM/oIieeF8_3Pc/s400/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249805595639025298" /></a><br />So I am totally fascinated with this television program, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Biggest Loser </span>(yes, thank you, I'm aware that I'm like four years behind the rest of the country.) I'm not a huge TV watcher, and to be honest I've never watched a reality show aside from four episodes of the one where they were trying to find a new band member for INXS (I loved Jordis Unga then lost interest.)<div><br /></div><div>I'm kind of working through my own theory of how some of the contestants on this show got to the point in their lives where they'd qualify for something like The Biggest Loser. I mean, on the most basic level they're just eating too much and not exercising enough. But there are some pretty intense family stories - divorce which found the mother taking two of her kids with her and the daughter that was left behind with the father felt she'd somehow done something wrong so she pretty much ate herself numb. Or the woman who admitted that before her son was diagnosed with autism she weighed 135 but had fallen into a pattern of taking care of him then ending the day collapsing on the couch and eating whatever she could find.</div><div><br /></div><div>Story after story, I just started thinking that for these people it happens to be eating. And that eating brings about a very obvious result - gaining weight. But many of them eat to deal with other issues, just like many alcoholics drink to forget their problems and many drug addicts are looking for escape. Only for alcoholics and drug addicts it's easier to hide the tell-tale signs when they're not in action. For people who eat, you can't "hide" the weight. And no matter what you say, there is a certain shame to being seriously overweight in our culture. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I'm sitting here watching my laptop and crying like an idiot for these people who are so desperate for someone to help them. The weight loss part is great. But the connections they make with each other just shows how desperate many of them are to be accepted regardless of their weights. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SNsPZRQhFQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/fjx-Y7atmMU/s1600-h/NUP_130987_0509.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SNsPZRQhFQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/fjx-Y7atmMU/s400/NUP_130987_0509.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249806717434270978" /></a><br /></div><div>After two episodes I'm finding this show to be more a social experiment than a reality game show. Though I did enjoy the slip 'n slide challenge they did (dude. That just looked <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">fun</span>.) I'm cheering for the pink team and the daughter Michelle specifically. She's a beautiful girl but also seems to be really grounded and willing to figure out how to work her way out of the physical and emotional mess she's in. Though being level-headed and calm probably means you'll get the boot for not generating more drama, eh?</div><div><br /></div><div>And the two trainers make me laugh. They're so mean when they yell at their teams but they almost seem apologetic when the talk about it later, explaining their motivation and feelings behind it. No matter what she says, I'd probably pee myself if I ran into Jillian while eating a piece of cheesecake in a dark alley (me eating the cheesecake. She apparently only eats steel and rocks.)(And not that I eat cheesecake in dark alleys. I'm just sayin'.)</div><div><br /></div><div>So that's my TV endorsement for the week. Oh! That and last week's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Myth Busters</span> where they put the phone books together page by page and it took two tanks to tear them apart (does that count as reality TV?) </div><div><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-38686244869067312002008-09-17T15:24:00.008-04:002008-09-17T16:46:18.771-04:00The hills are alive with the sound of generators (and chain saws!)<div>Wow! Been a while since you've heard from me? Blame Ike. That's Tropical Storm Ike, to you. Ike, who has no respect for the fact that Ohio is land-locked. Ike, who blew through Cincinnati Sunday afternoon causing chaos and destruction in his wake. Chaos! Destruction! Dogs and cats... living together... mass hysteria! Also, we seemed to have lost our trampoline... oh, wait! There it is! In the neighbor's yard, sideways, stuck up against their playset (not sure that's the best position for maximum jumping enjoyment.) Unfortunately, the trampoline frame was bent beyond repair. RIP, poor trampoline*. We hardly knew ye (we only had it a month!)</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Yn0yaxC5LiOkQGVfH5aN0w"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdSN9qHaI/AAAAAAAAAd0/2Pe7tDFoSH4/s400/IMG_6027.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/j3fWveWMe77nNBbQRurqfw"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFcUgn4Y3I/AAAAAAAAAcM/mgBK5-5vf4M/s400/IMG_5959.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>On Sunday we saw incredible acts of neighborly kindness, including neighbors helping Rusty taking apart said trampoline and getting into the garage before it was blown somewhere north of Middletown. And we witnessed incredible acts of stupidity. Including a neighbor on his roof in 40 mph sustained winds (with gusts up to 75 mph!) </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dPlXHXNThva8HLiSbVJtww"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFcxL3NMXI/AAAAAAAAAc4/OJnleHkkWGY/s400/IMG_5986.JPG" /></a>:</div><div><br /></div><div>We also lost a neighborhood landmark: the "Bus Stop Tree." The tree in our neighbor's yard where the kids stand to get on the bus. The tree that sheltered them during light rain (never thunderstorms, though!) and from whose branches the kindergarteners swung while their moms chatted nearby. The winds were so strong that they started to carry the broken tree down the street so at one point it had to be anchored with chains to keep it out of the road.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/JgmouTJ7sP1XTlIQM9jJUA"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFcbFzjIZI/AAAAAAAAAcU/XyTFJlFjE7I/s400/IMG_5961.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ym8lK8sQvqXPere9djc09w"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFcuwebx1I/AAAAAAAAAc0/ZMAfgCjlujk/s400/IMG_5982.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>While I helped my neighbor rake up the smaller branches a few kids road by on their bikes and shared their condolences. RIP, Bus Stop Tree. Yet another victim of Ike's senseless violence. Boo, senseless violence.</div><div><br /></div><div>So Monday morning, still no power. No problem, we have a grill. We have coffee. We'll make due (thank God for that camp coffee pot!)</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/BPjjsT9NS0oD9LhnddlNSw"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFczFQqLII/AAAAAAAAAc8/DEzwzw0sV8M/s400/IMG_5987.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Y5Q1OiI4Cafx1eD2vTg2KA"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFc7M4GJVI/AAAAAAAAAdI/rjcCNnheCHo/s400/IMG_5998.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>And we listened to the battery-powered, early 90's radio as they read off school after school as closed for the day. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/8drAkCw8Ue_WYIe-y6w6eQ"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFc97YKbvI/AAAAAAAAAdM/9FLkqdXnvbo/s400/IMG_5999.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Liam and Sean's school lost five or six trees, some siding off the portables, the roof off one of the baseball dugouts and a port-a-potty. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FcYcPLNOq2hrcNrNexVLqQ"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdXDj4-CI/AAAAAAAAAeM/y_so6gjBWBI/s400/IkeWoodland1.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">:<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Fp-aLoFF1X-q6Bu0UrmhSQ"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdY1dTIHI/AAAAAAAAAeY/7D5nCXjyHlI/s400/IkeWoodland4.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ZpOmhzfjXuqGNaZOwvz45g"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdZfrwK_I/AAAAAAAAAec/WYyVckSAP_M/s400/IkeWoodland5.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FNILkuMrH1WcQ0oDvimffQ"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdaLhqMOI/AAAAAAAAAeg/Lx2UKirgYJs/s400/IkeWoodland7.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward a few hours... here is my fridge. Or more accurately, here is my fridge on Ike. Late Monday morning and things started to get a little stenchy:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Df19G9uO1AqxZJgmRDY8ZQ"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFc4EGEDLI/AAAAAAAAAdE/nM7IpRFoUHA/s400/IMG_5995.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>This? This is my freezer on Monday night. Twenty-eight hours or so after Ike knocked our power:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kFsGjWQDRPkWABUzsK4A9Q"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFc_jqfTjI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/K_vg9kQyHa8/s400/IMG_6002.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>It was overcast Monday so we couldn't see much inside without the flashlights. So we spent a lot of time outside. Rusty was home from work and he and the boys took advantage of the down-time:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FhnTVgZimhPFwcac7yLn2g"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdTzGuMYI/AAAAAAAAAd4/QSfAmSkF06U/s400/IMG_6029.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7wQExD1VU8s6Dng_uL66cA"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdOJBhZFI/AAAAAAAAAdw/ReDrlyUnV_s/s400/IMG_6026.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Monday night, still no power. But see how pretty my condiments look by candlelight? </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/cp9Y9fUDRIZYUfM2ATR2qw"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdGVRjAnI/AAAAAAAAAdk/sdX7xbfSJVE/s400/IMG_6017.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The radio tells us that our county has declared a state of emergency, they're asking people to conserve water (and boil in places) and not be on the roads if possible. Traffic lights are either not working correctly or are out altogether. Power lines are hanging across some roads. And a large group of our energy company's workers are out of town, in Texas, trying to help them get back online. </div><div><br /></div><div>I get word that my sister and my parents have power. Our house, as well as my other sister and brother do not. I live twenty minutes north of my sister and twenty minutes or so south of my brother, if that gives some sort of indication of how wide-spread the blackout was/is.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then, Tuesday morning, 5:27 AM: the security system starts beeping... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">we have power! </span>Which is great. Until you realize the power went off Sunday <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">afternoon</span> and everything that was on at that time is now on again. Including Liam's bedroom lamp shining right in his face as he sleeps (as I quickly realized the possibility and raced in to shut it off before it woke him up!) So I spent ten minutes or so going around the house turning off random lamps and ceiling fans. I check the radio, school is once again closed, and I go back to bed. I wake up to find Liam reading and Sean playing in his room. Not bad.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later Tuesday morning I decide to brave the possibility of crowds and head down to Kroger to see what I can find. I figure if we have power back then they too must be back in business. What I find is a grocery store that had to get rid of every frozen and refrigerated item in the store after a day on generator power. I find empty coolers and shelves being disinfected by tired-looking employees. I see shoppers looking dazed and rumpled. It's kind of eerie to see all the empty shelves.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yxU1lH-JQPhttA5lUrgYww"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdUjW91II/AAAAAAAAAd8/tsbSpDg5I0Y/s400/IkeKroger1.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/d3978jJmb7KDT7vCNYOBOA"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdVAtfvzI/AAAAAAAAAeA/dCA2Hr914Oc/s400/IkeKroger2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GbB3BxuQPGgFvBz1NGVXbQ"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdV3RCQuI/AAAAAAAAAeE/HaTz8dyVf0w/s400/IkeKroger3.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Rusty works from home... until early afternoon when the internet/phone goes out again. We find something open for lunch and try to go to Target to pick up a prescription. I mean, Target looks open. And they are... but only in the most technical sense of the word. They have emergency lights on (translation: every tenth light is lit.) So if you can make your way around the store and find what you need in the semi-dark you can stand in one of two lines and buy something. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/U3msGA9g-GUzEs-vavPUIg"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SNFdWYkShOI/AAAAAAAAAeI/IIptBeqL7Js/s400/IkeTarget.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Home again and our phone and internet are still out. We hear from friends that their power is out and we invite them over to do laundry and be able to take showers. We play lots of euchre and Texas Hold'em. We find out school is again closed on Wednesday (today.) Friends and sister still without power as of an hour or so ago today.</div><div><br /></div><div>So that's the latest. No word yet on school tomorrow. School districts across the area are having to cope with freezers and refrigerators full of spoiled food and milk, downed trees and blown off roofs and beat up portables. Some bus routes are still blocked by trees and power lines and playgrounds have broken limbs and entire trees scattered across them. Some districts have scattered power from building to building. So we'll see.</div><div><br /></div><div>We didn't mind the loss of TV or cable, actually. We played games, read, and went to bed earlier than usual. But we could have gone without the loss of an entire fridge and freezer full of food that will have to be replaced. We're glad we can provide a place for friends to do laundry and hang out, but feel for them as they try to work their way through day three with no power. For my sister, who has a two year old and a two month old, it's lost its novelty. Gas stations are still randomly either not able to pump or out of gas. And though things are still up in the air I think a lot of people have been able to keep perspective. While it's frustrating, we realize we didn't bear the brunt of Ike and there are those who's lives have been much more deeply affected. If anything, this has give us a deeper perspective on what it means when you hear "half a million people are without power tonight" on CNN. </div><div><br /></div><div>*We announce that trampoline <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">will</span> be replaced. And there was much rejoicing. Ye, verily.</div><div><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-64307387096222947902008-09-08T09:20:00.002-04:002008-09-08T09:34:00.871-04:00School Recap: Week OneThe boys are exhausted and cranky. The end.<div><br /></div><div>Ok, so today didn't start out so great and I'll be waiting to hear from Liam, especially, how his day went. He meets with the school psychologist today for the first of his weekly get-togethers (this is the one replacing the woman he met with last year who is currently on maternity leave.) I have to talk with her after to discuss his language processing stuff. Specifically the fact that just in the last week he's gotten a lot worse in his starting a sentence then stopping, starting over, pausing and eventually getting really frustrated because he can't get his thoughts into words the way he wants to. </div><div><br /></div><div>We talked with his therapist last spring about this. The problem is figuring out what kind of testing and/or therapy would address his needs. The school offers speech therapy, but his <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">speech</span> is fine. He can pronounce his words and sounds with no problem. It's getting the thoughts into words... there seem to be some overlapping therapies that may address some of those issues but we're having a hard time finding something to address that specific issue; how to help his brain better connect to his mouth.</div><div><br /></div><div>For my teacher and counseling friends, feel free to offer any ideas. This is something we've been trying to work on for a few years now and as he gets older it gets more and more noticable that the other kids his age and in his class have a much easier time with their words. And that bothers him. </div><div><br /></div><div>Please know, this is not a "crisis." This is the nature of the stuff he deals with. We figure out a way to adapt and move on to the next challenge. Some things are not a challenge at all so it's not like his identity is wrapped up in having these issues. But the flip side of that is that we want to help him continue to adapt so other people don't start to identify him strictly by his issues. Liam is such a phenominal kid. I refuse to let anyone slap a label on him and think they've got him figured out.</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-11496379663677038452008-09-04T12:25:00.004-04:002008-09-04T18:10:59.929-04:00Because I said I would post them for you...Dear Colin, Maggie and Denim,<div><br /></div><div>Here are some of the beach pictures. You can click on the link at the bottom to see the rest!<div><br /></div><div>Love,</div><div><br /></div><div>Stacie</div><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/BewnWf3vlDYBBs8wUFIBHw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAINyaAPwI/AAAAAAAAAXg/fKOwXCQ7Uv8/s800/IMG_5372.JPG" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1rBJJpfeUhSRpoiqe1Z0cw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIMPWaESI/AAAAAAAAAXc/GZwP0Lgz-O4/s800/IMG_5364.JPG" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">That's my crabby face.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><br /></span> <br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ds6ZR0Zgn0R1hdmITz4Mlw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIRbYcmiI/AAAAAAAAAXk/GM4EqT6mvhc/s800/IMG_5377.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/hZ805OZGxG7gXNdJaEzhlg?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAITRINA8I/AAAAAAAAAXo/lk1gUI4jKQ4/s800/IMG_5384.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1JOrlkGZhE7LA-Nf_Y2j8w?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIYdqKmNI/AAAAAAAAAX0/c6zZOhVWgL4/s800/IMG_5395.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9cqd-sh2fc8_BIR0Rj_-nw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIasUfnCI/AAAAAAAAAX4/c_rsb-TXtS8/s800/IMG_5388.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3icivdLumwiGogAE5t32RA?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIe7nwoTI/AAAAAAAAAYA/OXK1-3RXNrM/s800/IMG_5455.JPG" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The pier at right before sunset</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3RWB_3c9EhMNlx509tMg8w?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIg6ZcGPI/AAAAAAAAAYE/LqCS_Lmy7vE/s800/IMG_5480.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/pti0g81VOyYy6CM1doJqrQ?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMAIk2lcGcI/AAAAAAAAAYM/B_wXsxxe2CE/s800/IMG_5596.JPG" /></a><br /><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Sean was having smiley issues. Liam was fixing it for him.</span></span></div><div><br />The rest of the pictures are here: <a href="http://www2.snapfish.com/share/p=50341220546602740/l=426830785/g=39150925/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Ocean City, Maryland pictures</span></span></a> </div></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-29434982353033014652008-09-04T07:18:00.001-04:002008-09-05T00:19:43.874-04:00Real life mom stuff.Can I just vent a minute, please? Don't take this as some sort of sign that I'm falling apart. I just need a moment and I'll be fine.<div><br /></div><div>Ok, so, the boys started school on Tuesday. We did all of our meetings for Liam's intervention plan last year so we weren't going to have to meet right away this year. Yay, right? Yeah, well, while we were at the beach last week I got a message from the school that the vice principal (a.k.a. the person who handles the intervention plans) had been replaced. Gah. I hate... I mean seriously <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">loathe</span> these meetings. I hate going in and telling someone what's "wrong" with Liam. Someone who's never met him and has to document his issues. Anyone who has met Liam can tell you that for the most part he handles his stuff pretty well and in between specific incidents you can't really tell he has any issues at all. So I pouted about that for five minutes and got over it (being at the beach helps one get over quite a few things pretty quickly.)</div><div><br /></div><div>So we get home from Maryland, go to open house the next day to find out that the school psychologist whom Liam meets with once a week during the school year? Is going on maternity leave. Immediately. So Liam meets the replacement, whom he genuinely seems to like but again... will be starting over the process of getting aquainted with him and his brain. We finish open house and we get home only to have Liam randomly crying and whining about totally ridiculous stuff. Things he wouldn't have whimpered about in July are causing him total mental anguish now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, by Monday night, I was a wreck. Where other mothers might be crying because their kids are growing up so fast, I'm on the verge of tears because I'm losing Liam once again to the OCD and anxiety that school and all its institutional rules bring on. It's like I get the real Liam for three months of the year and the other nine months part of him is tucked away while the stress and anxiety battle the little defenses he uses to deal with it (the crying, the repetitive behaviors, etc.) </div><div><br /></div><div>It's been only two days of school now and I already miss the kid I had all summer. I don't know if he exists during the school year and if he does, how I can help him stay.</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-51065913421386095782008-09-02T10:41:00.000-04:002008-09-04T12:06:58.274-04:00It begins.Tuesday, September 2 = first day of school at Woodland Elementary/Lakota<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/QekewyKatQimhSsGsxK1Fw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABJQ-RqWI/AAAAAAAAAWk/Qh1557vx4yI/s400/IMG_5842.JPG" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">That's two fingers for second grade, not world peace.<br /></span></span><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9n8WQiNPUbKWtTy6FwJfQw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABOPPfZZI/AAAAAAAAAWs/NVxi8d2v5PI/s400/IMG_5847.JPG" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Sean's a little anxious.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VcFO1xmOz2R185r6ifJdoA?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABMtkFmvI/AAAAAAAAAWo/mcc67uyQ5lU/s400/IMG_5845.JPG" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Still anxious.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GEiEEYc9x73-ufMBCJ8hRw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABQbOCjVI/AAAAAAAAAW0/_uVmPNsm9tg/s400/IMG_5849.JPG" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Liam is a pro at first day of school stuff.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/RGq4QEAfu2qw0sFu-Iw4bw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABSlrPS3I/AAAAAAAAAW4/-MBarAnS7sA/s400/IMG_5852.JPG" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Fourth grade, baby.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ndI29ixf6j-krzkASNC1Sw?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABVy9bkDI/AAAAAAAAAW8/VgcXjv81ge0/s400/IMG_5856.JPG" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The bus stop is across the street from our house</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xZmMladh9H12DBoMg9fU-w?authkey=dvw9mCbKmJ0"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/altered.artgirl/SMABZbKSrjI/AAAAAAAAAXA/KpxUjk1nWoM/s400/IMG_5857.JPG" /></a></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-58620638878682197772008-09-01T13:16:00.005-04:002008-09-01T13:38:41.938-04:00Old school Kings Island.So YouTube really does have everything. For your consideration: a slideshow of the original <span style="font-style:italic;">Enchanted Voyage</span> ride complete with the music. Now, this is a few years before I remember riding as the "scary" part by the time I was riding it had been switched out from skeletons to Scooby Doo and the gang hanging onto an old tree limb over crocodiles that swam around in a circle underneath.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6COOkz44GJY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6COOkz44GJY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div><br /></div><div>And if you're too young to remember that? Maybe this was what you remember (and I'm so sad for you):</div><div><br /></div><div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Hqu6yOEwW0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Hqu6yOEwW0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><br /><div></div><br />As if that weren't enough, if you grew up in Cincinnati in the mid-late 70's and 80's then this will bring back tons of memories... the Flying Shoes, Beastie, Screamin' Demon, The Bat, and vintage Beast footage (The Bat is the last ride featured in the video):<div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d1CIOVIK6Cc&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d1CIOVIK6Cc&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-82910096272917278722008-08-12T21:07:00.004-04:002008-08-12T21:33:48.758-04:00Have you heard?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SKI5mWMIRHI/AAAAAAAAAWA/HDh49ym49Ic/s1600-h/08new_toplogo.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SKI5mWMIRHI/AAAAAAAAAWA/HDh49ym49Ic/s320/08new_toplogo.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233809047912203378" /></a>Ok, how freakin' awesome are the American swimmers?! How amazing are the Chinese syncronized divers? And the 33 year-old Russian gymnast whose son got cancer and after receiving the highest level of medical care and support from Germany became a German citizen and seriously rocked a vault as a now German gymnast?! (yes... she's 33. Craziness.) Dude, the swimming cube is so cool and the fact that the cyclists are competing along parts of the Great Wall... just so beautiful. <div><br /></div><div>I'd like to say my interest in the Olympics is purely in the name of world peace and the idea that we can all get along for a few weeks. But that's not entirely true (though that aspect still thrills me.) No... I'm sure I solidified my identity as an Olympics freak when Rusty and I stood up screaming as we cheered on the Americans when they swam from behind to beat the French literally in the last couple of feet of the men's 400 relay in the pool Monday night. Dude. That was fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also, loving that Bob Costas is such an enthusiastic Olympics dork. And Rowdy Gaines talking about the "wing span" of the various American swimmers. And looking over at Liam and Sean during one of Michael Phelps' medal ceremonies when the national anthem was played to find them both standing up (separately, in different parts of the room) with their hands over their hearts. And I love hearing them get excited about when an athlete does something amazing - regardless of their home country. </div><div><br /></div><div>So only a few days into the Olympics and I'll whole-heartedly admit we're huge Olympics freaks in our house. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now we have to go down and start watching tonight's broadcast on DVR before someone tells me what happened...</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-86003042695552548782008-07-29T15:51:00.002-04:002008-07-29T15:59:52.524-04:00Please watch Matt Dance.It's totally worth it. Seriously.<div><br /></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlfKdbWwruY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlfKdbWwruY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div><br /></div><div>P.S. If you click on the video it'll take you to it's YouTube page where you can watch a higher res version. <br /><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-6211719174824447992008-07-26T16:49:00.006-04:002008-11-13T11:10:09.183-05:00Ok. So let's talk about the farm.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SIumUrI1QTI/AAAAAAAAAUI/zas6iKrdKDA/s1600-h/IMG_4276.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SIumUrI1QTI/AAAAAAAAAUI/zas6iKrdKDA/s400/IMG_4276.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227454666600956210" /></a><br />You know, I've tried to write something about this at least three different times over the last month. Every time my writing just came off as too angry or sad and ultimately I don't want either of those two emotions exclusively and permanently attached to my memories of the farm. In the thirty-one years I've been blessed to be a part of the Kelly family, anger and sadness are not emotions I would ever attribute to my grandparents or great-aunt and great-uncle. They were humble, practical, loving, funny, and interesting people. Though I could write pages and pages detailing my anger and sadness and frustration over what's happening to the farm and why, I refuse to do it. Because the farm and my feelings about it are ultimately a memorial to my family and the memories and lessons and love they blessed me with through our time there.<div><br /></div><div>Background on the farm is that my great-grandparents bought the acreage on Indiana route 101 (just off of 50 West) when my Grandpa Kelly was very young. And my Grandpa Kelly was born in 1903, so the Kelly family came to the farm sometime before 1910 and it's safe to say it's been in the family for about a hundred years or so. My grandpa's youngest brother, Myron, stayed on the farm and he and his wife, my great-Aunt Mary, lived there when I was growing up. By that point they only raised beef cattle though the remnants of the chicken house and hog barn still stand today. The property totals about 120 acres of farmed fields, woods, creeks and a fishing pond. It's a nice little piece of God's creation. He did good work.</div><div><br /></div><div>So after Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Myron and Aunt Mary died, ownership of the farm was passed on to my dad and his sister getting their dad's half and their cousin getting his dad's half. My dad has spent many, many weekends at the farm mowing, tending a family garden and just generally tinkering and enjoying himself. We have enjoyed fishing, camping trips, family picnics and having home-grown tomatoes and zucchini and peppers from mid-summer on. Liam would often go out to the farm on weekends with my dad and "help" with the tending and mowing (translation: give Grandpa a good reason to take a break and go fishing.) </div><div><br /></div><div>But it's not just about what we do there or get from the farm. There is a connection to my grandparents and family that has not been severed though those people we loved so much are long gone. There are grapes my grandmother planted over 50 years ago growing all over the property. There are trees my grandfather planted when he was young and used to point out when we were Liam and Sean's age. There are two pines thriving there now that my dad dug out of my grandparents' backyard when they died and replanted at the farm. And the Silver Maple in the front yard was brought home from school by my Aunt Kathy, my mom's older sister, and when no suitable place could be found at their house my Grandpa Joe and Grandpa Kelly brought the sapling out to the farm and planted it. Aunt Kathy would be fifty-nine now if she had not died of cancer eleven years ago. Her tree is now towering three stories (maybe more.) These are the little ties that bind me and my family to the farm. And they're the things making this situation so hard to deal with.</div><div><br /></div><div>The "situation" is this: my aunt decided to sell her quarter and their cousin decided that meant he should sell his half as well. As much as we tried we could not make the numbers work for my dad to buy out my aunt and their cousin's shares, even after going over home equity (my parents as well as our own), retirement fund numbers, etc. With very little option left and due to unique circumstances on the way the property was arranged, my dad had to agree to sell his quarter as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>The agreement was not something he's happy with and neither are we, though we understand it was his only option. And that he's even more unhappy about it than we are. There have been nights where I am so sad that I can barely speak when Rusty asks if I'm ok. There have been days when I've threatened to send email or make a phone call that would unleash my anger on the people I consider responsible for making my dad so sad and for causing us to lose the last tie we have to my grandparents and Great-Aunt and Uncle. Because of the way things have played out and the back-story I choose to not add here, I feel my grandparents' memories and wishes are not being honored. </div><div><br /></div><div>So that's it. It's done. The new owner will take possession "no later than August 8th." My parents and I spent last weekend taking apart furniture, inventorying dishes and flatware and the little things they've taken out to the farmhouse over the years. We walked through the woods, ate apples off the ugly apple tree, picked blackberries and gathered wild-turkey feathers. We walked by the pond though I couldn't bear to walk around it as the late summer flowers ringing it are ready to bloom, Grandma's grapes are getting bigger and the stupid rubber-band frog will keep on blabbering. And we won't get to be there to enjoy it. And that's just too hard to think about so I had to let it be.</div><div><br /></div><div>This seems like a rambling, semi-coherent post and I'm sorry. I just needed to get it out there because I really have kind of shut down to anyone outside of my family and close friends as we have dealt with this over the last month. Many of our friends from school, extended family on both sides and other have expressed their love and sorrow at the sale of the farm and I want you to know that it means a lot to me and I'm sure to my family as well. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/art_chick/sets/766321/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">On that note, if you want to know what the fuss is all about, please click here and look at photos of the place we've always just called "the farm."</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/art_chick/sets/766321/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-55480506451049906602008-07-14T12:56:00.003-04:002008-11-13T11:10:09.694-05:00Fallen world again.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDsYmyFoUaaZl9k2FO1LFABR_lkMaKY7tdk64x8KhaxZGAJUH6-4U6KiFseOB1wljHE9E3hOWYE1mRgsdRQ9pxVbnqhIIENWu9uSTIEtApdd4XdwY9bnqE9BmKbW-Q4CEI8L5IQ/s1600-h/Katie_3-pr.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDsYmyFoUaaZl9k2FO1LFABR_lkMaKY7tdk64x8KhaxZGAJUH6-4U6KiFseOB1wljHE9E3hOWYE1mRgsdRQ9pxVbnqhIIENWu9uSTIEtApdd4XdwY9bnqE9BmKbW-Q4CEI8L5IQ/s400/Katie_3-pr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222914317290043714" /></a><br />I just don't know what to say. We've loved Katie since her first concert as a teenager at the Vineyard back in the day. I'm sorry for Karen and their boys and for the entire Reider family. <div><a href="http://katiereider.blogspot.com/"><br /></a></div><div><a href="http://katiereider.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Katie Reider</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://katiereider.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">1978-2008</span></span></a></div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-29852743307678598022008-06-19T15:45:00.002-04:002008-06-19T15:50:05.322-04:00It's on.Are you an artist? Are you a singer, songwriter, poet, gardner, knitter, joke-maker-upper, teacher, sidewalk-chalk drawer, painter, modge-podger, HGTV watcher or Bill Nye the Science Guy lover? Well if so? You're creative. Ah, ahhhh... don't look at me like that! Stop rolling your eyes and get your butt over to the <span style="font-style:italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><a href="http://faithandart.blogspot.com/">Faith & Art blog</a>.</span></span></span><div><br /></div><div>I have to publicly apologize to God and say I'm sorry for letting this go. So now it's on. If you're even remotely interested, go check it out.</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-27053666338149673032008-06-05T22:25:00.003-04:002008-11-13T11:10:10.199-05:00Perfectly executed cannonball, baby.<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yEvq7XMWFLs/SEihENe4IJI/AAAAAAAAALA/wHJqyhmFed8/s400/6.2008+Summer+Break+Party+-+34.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208590062764695698" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Summer break has officially begun.</div>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7743174.post-78197897293816287122008-06-05T02:07:00.003-04:002008-06-05T02:11:46.496-04:00Quote of the week<span style="font-style:italic;">Everyone has a completely different idea of what constitutes "good music", and lots of them , frankly, could probably get sufficiently worked up to punch you in the head over it.</span><br /><br />This is scary true (whether read in context with the rest of the post or taken out of context completely and put on a t-shirt.) Also? I love <a href="http://funkyfatgirl.blogspot.com/">Betsy.</a>Staciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01426298878464340327noreply@blogger.com0