tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61449882638466215552024-03-14T02:18:18.516-07:00rachel's continued ramblings{still sorta here. still sorta blogging}rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.comBlogger1044125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-70147192962434744482021-08-28T20:29:00.002-07:002021-08-28T20:30:43.295-07:00Some things that have made me happy lately…<p>I recently replaced the curtains in my family room (that is its own story) because one of the was severely faded. The other one was fine, and it seemed a waste to toss it, especially since I really like these curtains. But what do you do with only one curtain? Unrelated is the fact that our cat’s litter box resides in the linen closet, which means the door needs to stay open all the time, and there is always the risk that the door gets shut and then we have unpleasantness. I’ve been contemplating a solution to this situation for a while. Suddenly, they came together! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VEm7o7YfyLyMJjv3V_UNZxbHgdCOXClTPoC8xSuD3sR-Tn4aFGm73Az_cMPwFlAzhBllfxd6mTLgtgfaxYNOXEsdxkV28n3xS9Lo7TbNaq8BKStlIFuL2674b_tD-0R-uKYytRpKT2U/s2048/32C8F744-790F-41DC-A10D-923AA1FFD4A2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VEm7o7YfyLyMJjv3V_UNZxbHgdCOXClTPoC8xSuD3sR-Tn4aFGm73Az_cMPwFlAzhBllfxd6mTLgtgfaxYNOXEsdxkV28n3xS9Lo7TbNaq8BKStlIFuL2674b_tD-0R-uKYytRpKT2U/s320/32C8F744-790F-41DC-A10D-923AA1FFD4A2.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><p>A backyard game of “license plate baseball” broke out randomly. License plate baseball is one of those things that will go down in Dapelo family history. It has only happened a few times, but for some reason it is legendary. We use old license plates as the bases, which is how it got its name.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiaI3zQH-9BHRIdUEmotoeusEPJEwkuaWDHXpHFSAZQ7u6YPqu9wRRSq0T9XTaxhNcZSbUJ4NxjR0h23260OLDVw3cQkCM2z2bw5FhOZOCY2nyZC1HJaVvtlzE1sMSre_p2clMLQPT-w/s1024/5FE774A7-9D2F-4A5A-984E-0C6F8E9D09DC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiaI3zQH-9BHRIdUEmotoeusEPJEwkuaWDHXpHFSAZQ7u6YPqu9wRRSq0T9XTaxhNcZSbUJ4NxjR0h23260OLDVw3cQkCM2z2bw5FhOZOCY2nyZC1HJaVvtlzE1sMSre_p2clMLQPT-w/s320/5FE774A7-9D2F-4A5A-984E-0C6F8E9D09DC.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The joys of Mr. Putter & Tabby live on. Never too old.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1VcFah_T-ZtpXsu3iveBtg_sCozDmp60GKw_7ZnMZwgb0yfYxWRhYt_JyUq6VSHE9arcU60O4h4kU0O7N2fkTSQ_eHazYhVPYNWUslJmcJPcSpOt0mDayTWOT5o4dXJo5G1jzyW7cWg/s2048/942B39FF-898C-4130-84FE-80A36126C81B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1VcFah_T-ZtpXsu3iveBtg_sCozDmp60GKw_7ZnMZwgb0yfYxWRhYt_JyUq6VSHE9arcU60O4h4kU0O7N2fkTSQ_eHazYhVPYNWUslJmcJPcSpOt0mDayTWOT5o4dXJo5G1jzyW7cWg/s320/942B39FF-898C-4130-84FE-80A36126C81B.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This morning, my dad took Micah and I bowling. I got to try out my new bowling ball (a gift from him like 2 years ago) finally. But first, Bonezy got all excited and thought he was going to go bowling too! </div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIA9Z1m_uqkt_H73mRc8jq0rdOzS6KmMop7U6LorachSdQRjxU9NWG5EoTsmPZdzxdeMLe-uzNVZ5cITFR03MsIzAKMh417414wAqnOcI5LfTJkiGuZt6wW1PCR1i8pHdiwo8HVd2FiI/s2048/C185BB86-F65A-42E0-BCFC-EA4951E47071.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIA9Z1m_uqkt_H73mRc8jq0rdOzS6KmMop7U6LorachSdQRjxU9NWG5EoTsmPZdzxdeMLe-uzNVZ5cITFR03MsIzAKMh417414wAqnOcI5LfTJkiGuZt6wW1PCR1i8pHdiwo8HVd2FiI/s320/C185BB86-F65A-42E0-BCFC-EA4951E47071.jpeg" width="180" /></a><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHOVyIeckiXO34CowQ-03VUolieAyFayyXMl1Mh5-VDInFTEpfanYHrSPGl51tFLH2MPfJfOWYWCkHmVUOqEUC3r_iX3CB7kf3imHKE1hj4HW_PeeRKt6-dCVIj4dvq-zYwPjhwkGDiOU/s2048/9D412DE1-36F3-4870-86A1-DDC45FB6465C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHOVyIeckiXO34CowQ-03VUolieAyFayyXMl1Mh5-VDInFTEpfanYHrSPGl51tFLH2MPfJfOWYWCkHmVUOqEUC3r_iX3CB7kf3imHKE1hj4HW_PeeRKt6-dCVIj4dvq-zYwPjhwkGDiOU/s320/9D412DE1-36F3-4870-86A1-DDC45FB6465C.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then we headed into Monroe for the block party. Not quite the same as the parade, which was definitely missed, but I guess this is better than nothing. Layla is thrilled the band is back in action! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwd-nvHQAwAWgQuVTMkK7ETD3o2nfV2xwMkQSuzujJ_VRhbjZm_3hwYo3eyi92beW3WU9-jLTEnDEyDv8K_qmDUb1ZD2jAlROKfQ4wooiDWHlB5VbeXAK-hlKszQmF79Ektp1GgYrRaI/s2048/773A6372-5D1F-448D-AB59-5DAC987C8D7E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwd-nvHQAwAWgQuVTMkK7ETD3o2nfV2xwMkQSuzujJ_VRhbjZm_3hwYo3eyi92beW3WU9-jLTEnDEyDv8K_qmDUb1ZD2jAlROKfQ4wooiDWHlB5VbeXAK-hlKszQmF79Ektp1GgYrRaI/s320/773A6372-5D1F-448D-AB59-5DAC987C8D7E.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then we poked around the booths a little and came home with some amazing smelling soaps! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwb3MhfLZgy7hCm2KS82rucg0i8JRvOzo2HZGxQ0GCzVRhDlT3YgBcA7u3Ycfv6hilI8vyveIydxcOy-nwopdAhMHOm8PqWomsJpS8ti6Wf7YkZGGstNJZtf7zFQTAdFp84WVL3hApBo0/s2048/80131446-3A88-43DB-AB67-3767D4C73668.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwb3MhfLZgy7hCm2KS82rucg0i8JRvOzo2HZGxQ0GCzVRhDlT3YgBcA7u3Ycfv6hilI8vyveIydxcOy-nwopdAhMHOm8PqWomsJpS8ti6Wf7YkZGGstNJZtf7zFQTAdFp84WVL3hApBo0/s320/80131446-3A88-43DB-AB67-3767D4C73668.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So what’s been making you happy lately? </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-27791929568666766352021-08-28T19:33:00.002-07:002021-08-28T19:38:36.885-07:00Lessons from my Septic Tank<p>The joys of homeownership paid us a visit this week.</p><p>First, the water dispenser on our fridge decided to stop functioning properly, leak all over the place, and need to be replaced. Thankfully, a few parts and a handy hubby and we are back in business. </p><p>Today, he replaced the brakes on the Subaru because it was making a horrible squealing noise like cars do when they start demanding new brakes…</p><p>Yesterday’s situation, however, required a professional. For a couple of weeks, our downstairs toilet has been making a weird gurgly noise after you flush it. We initially thought it had something to do with the new innards Dave had to put in it recently (since it was running and needed the ball float mechanism replaced with a new situation), but that wasn’t the problem. We thought there might be a clog, so tried plunging it and even snaking. Made no difference. </p><p>Then Wednesday, I went outside to look at the garden and got all kinds of heinous whiffs of sewage smell. </p><p>{insert ominous music}</p><p>So Dave dug up the rose (and sunflower and weed) garden to expose the septic tank lids. He pulled one off and it became immediately apparent what the problem was.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwjJA5q_15NRSZvO22bBh6NfwpKIlNc4-LWn3kSUCbH-Gsuv3CGckHpWLLmptWAkTXDpf1m_mFq5kaBEnpcd5agWeRaVyylpySp6yfj_rK6bR4Nh2jBdEV2Fa9deR76vqNht5aST0ycU/s2048/5ECE9998-96CD-4AD3-8E52-EBF024B13D18.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"> <img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwjJA5q_15NRSZvO22bBh6NfwpKIlNc4-LWn3kSUCbH-Gsuv3CGckHpWLLmptWAkTXDpf1m_mFq5kaBEnpcd5agWeRaVyylpySp6yfj_rK6bR4Nh2jBdEV2Fa9deR76vqNht5aST0ycU/s320/5ECE9998-96CD-4AD3-8E52-EBF024B13D18.jpeg" width="320" /></a></p><p>So we got the septic guy out. (How’s that for a superhero identity? SepticGuy!!!) </p><p>We had to wait until the next day, and in the meantime, we desisted all unnecessary use of water/drains. No dishes, laundry, long showers, or flushing. That was weird. We employed the “if it’s yellow let it mellow” philosophy for about 24 hours. Do you know how hard it is to just walk out of a bathroom without flushing the toilet??!!</p><p>Apparently, this guy has found his calling in life and thoroughly enjoyed servicing, analyzing, and commenting on our septic tank. Even though we had our septic tank pumped last spring, the filter was majorly clogged. We’re not sure why, but oh well. It’s fixed now. Maybe it’s because for the last year and a half, we have all almost 100% pooped at home. Yay covid. </p><p>But we learned some interesting things about ourselves from our septic tank. Yes, I know how thoroughly disgusting this is. Apparently, we eat very healthfully. According to SepticGuy, when you eat mostly natural foods, they break down faster and sink to the bottom quickly. Processed foods take longer to break down and stay near the top and middle. And all that stuff that “passes through” floats to the top. He asked if we are a lot of 12 grain bread. </p><p>😂</p><p>And apparently, thanks to our healthy eating habits, we should have our tank pumped every 2 years. Seriously. Can’t make this stuff up. Maybe we should try to save ourselves some money by eating more junk. </p><p>But it’s fixed now. We can flush, thank goodness. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwjJA5q_15NRSZvO22bBh6NfwpKIlNc4-LWn3kSUCbH-Gsuv3CGckHpWLLmptWAkTXDpf1m_mFq5kaBEnpcd5agWeRaVyylpySp6yfj_rK6bR4Nh2jBdEV2Fa9deR76vqNht5aST0ycU/s2048/5ECE9998-96CD-4AD3-8E52-EBF024B13D18.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><br /><p></p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-17114139709097431292021-08-26T14:11:00.007-07:002021-08-26T14:20:22.625-07:00September Meal Plan (& making peace with my Instant Pot)<p>Yesterday, “monthly meal plan” came up on my digital to do list. The past month or two, I’ve been operating week to week, which is better than nothing, but monthly is one thousand times better. As usual, I was dissatisfied with available methods/templates for this task, so I whipped up my own. I think I love this. Highlighting weekends is important to just give me a little grounding for where we are in the week. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlKo2dNSNKtqulcUsaYQe_wSr7BuPNqFgC8kIMY475p5NBRXdKXFKdp9RquZ-tAKtWKQPhiLpVkGJvYwpbfgl256wYITKerRwBMs2D93AyQ4SPZ6RLgHNrBAiHRNSnlrXQDUtEjLiCf8/s2048/D6F26359-5E8D-4B33-8B0D-11940FC00FF0.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1329" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlKo2dNSNKtqulcUsaYQe_wSr7BuPNqFgC8kIMY475p5NBRXdKXFKdp9RquZ-tAKtWKQPhiLpVkGJvYwpbfgl256wYITKerRwBMs2D93AyQ4SPZ6RLgHNrBAiHRNSnlrXQDUtEjLiCf8/s320/D6F26359-5E8D-4B33-8B0D-11940FC00FF0.jpeg" width="208" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You’ll probably notice a lot of instant pot recipes on there in the first half of the month. I’m still in the middle of my tour de instant pot - the end of which will come at whatever time I determine whether or not the beast gets voted off the island. Lots of people gave me lots of suggestions, plus ones I looked up on my own and people said they wanted to try. This has been going on for almost 2 weeks now, and so far only 2 recipes have gone directly into the recycling. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here’s what we’ve tried (and liked enough to keep) so far:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.365daysofcrockpot.com/instant-pot-meatballs-red-potatoes-creamy-parmesan-sauce/">https://www.365daysofcrockpot.com/instant-pot-meatballs-red-potatoes-creamy-parmesan-sauce/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.sparklestosprinkles.com/wp-json/mv-create/v1/creations/255/print?ajax=true">https://www.sparklestosprinkles.com/instant-pot-shredded-chicken-burrito-bowl/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.365daysofcrockpot.com/instant-pot-brown-rice-pilaf-with-chicken-sausage/">https://www.365daysofcrockpot.com/instant-pot-brown-rice-pilaf-with-chicken-sausage/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://instantloss.com/instant-pot-chicken-tortilla-soup/">https://instantloss.com/instant-pot-chicken-tortilla-soup/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.365daysofcrockpot.com/instant-pot-lemon-herbed-chicken-and-red-potatoes/">https://www.365daysofcrockpot.com/instant-pot-lemon-herbed-chicken-and-red-potatoes/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The ones we didn’t like were a pork chops with green beans recipe that was fine, just not good enough. And a mac & cheese with chicken and broccoli that Dave and my dad thought was ok, but I couldn’t even finish. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So we’ve got about half a month left of recipes stacked on my kitchen counter. I’ll let you know how it goes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For this month, the only things up in the air still are what Dave and I will do for our anniversary and what my dad wants on his birthday (stroganoff probably), but the rest is dummy-proofed. Hooray! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-41507970041354236462020-12-10T14:34:00.001-08:002020-12-11T13:53:52.183-08:00Social Media contemplations.I have been breaking my social media ban here and there, just to see how bad it is. I haven’t quite decided if or how I want to use these platforms going forward. <div><br /><div>Mostly, I’ve discovered that Instagram isn’t that bad. There were a few people I followed who posted a lot of political stuff, so I discovered this really awesome feature called “mute”. That has and will continue to be my policy there. I don’t want to see it. I know you have the right to post it, and if that’s how you want to use your Instagram, that’s, of course, totally fine. It’s just not why I’m on Instagram and it’s my preference to not be confronted with political messages all the time. I just want to see people’s babies and puppies and pictures of beautiful fall leaves or snowmen, etc. You get the idea.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Facebook is a bit of a different animal. I used to really like Facebook. It was a fun way to connect and interact. But, like everything else, it’s evolved. It’s become less of all that and more of a way to let people who or what you dislike and for the big, bad FB monster to fill your feed full of content their AI has determined you will find interesting. </div><div><br /></div><div>Twitter, Snapchat, and TikTok are not an issue, as I don't use them and have no desire to change that. Oh, and apparently Pinterest is considered social media as well??? I'm guessing I don't use it right, because how that would work confuses me. I just go there to find recipes or ways to refinish my stairs if we ever get gutsy enough to yank the carpet off.</div><div><br /></div><div>The biggest thing with all of this was sort of "named" for me in a podcast I was listening to recently. I could never really put my finger on what was so awful about all of it and how it made me feel and why I really, really wanted out. The guest on this podcast used a term that really just hit the nail on the head. He said we live in an <i>outrage society. </i>That's it. And social media just seems to take that idea and compound it by inviting more and more fuel on the fire. Somehow or other, that's apparently what we all have an insatiable appetite for. To be outraged. All the time. About everything. And everyone. And THAT is why I hate it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to be outraged.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't like feeling that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to only be able to see the bad, the wrong, the injustice, the failings, the broken.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just don't want to feel outraged all the time. It's icky.</div><div><br /></div><div>This does not mean that I want to bury my head in the sand and act like a deluded optimist. Those sort of people actually drive me crazy. By nature I'm a realist - maybe even with a touch of cynicism. And I know that there is a lot in this world that is deserving of outrage. And the more universally and internationally connected we are, the more of that sort of thing we are going to know about. There have always been and always will be evil in the world. People with power will always take advantage of those without. Nations and races and religions will always be at odds with each other. There will always be people who don't have enough to eat or a place to live. There will always be fires and floods and earthquakes and storms. That's how it is in this fallen world. That's the earth groaning under the curse of sin. And how we live until Christ's return. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I'm not saying that we should just accept that and move on. We<i> should</i> care. We should help where we can and live our lives in ways that diminish rather than promote injustices.</div><div><br /></div><div>If nobody was ever outraged, nothing would ever change.</div><div><br /></div><div>But knowing exactly how mad every one of my Facebook friends is about every injustice or annoyance or inconvenience all the time is not helpful. And it's not good for me. And I will not continue to consume it. </div><div><br /></div><div>There's also the time-suck, distraction aspect. Pretty much 100% of the time I have ever spent on social media could have been better spent in some other endeavor.</div><div><br /></div><div>And there's the attention-seeking, self-absorbed aspect. I mean, really, that is the pared-down reality of why we post things. Look at me! Look at my life! Look at my house! Look at my kids! Look at my dog! Listen to my opinions! Whether it is to brag or complain, it's still just all about me. I need to spend less of my life on myself, not more. The very fact that we used to take pictures of things that happened, but now we plan the things that will happen <i>around the pictures we will take of it</i> (and then share with the world) is enough to make my head spin. </div><div><br /></div><div>And so.... I'm not sure where that leaves me. When I truly think about any of it, it just seems so trivial. So worthless. I don't want to live my life in a fake, manufactured, digital atmosphere any more than I want to feel outraged all the time. Not that using this particular venue (a blog) to do the same is really any more noble or worthy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've had some 'complaints' (for lack of a better word) about my absence. I find it somewhat hilarious that my posting would be somehow missed. We'll see. My hope is that anything I do share will be encouraging and edifying to anyone who sees it. I want to use the tools I have at my disposal and connections that I make to point people to love and truth and family and joy, and most of all, to Jesus, without whom, I would have nothing at all to brag about. Whatever blessings (even the challenging ones) I have in my life are gifts, drawing me ever closer to Him.</div>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-10771627897870055332020-11-06T12:25:00.010-08:002020-11-06T12:39:29.184-08:00My favorite holiday<p>Back in the spring, I posted something somewhere about "clothesline day" being my favorite "holiday". In fact, here's a picture of me on Easter a few years ago, celebrating clothesline day (yes, with a mimosa - it was Easter).</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7doXuu8W1oUk0xC9BHDpOS8CAePNCuXEx3dwHA_se-mJMOYuGdQ9rDOXRtYxhzwBslAjA15Wm498O4LTusm9x9p9-TxTh48_vij6rDROzwarcBVm8VMxfIjOvjksbVDcuMja6tCkuEY/s2576/IMG_3522.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2576" data-original-width="1932" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7doXuu8W1oUk0xC9BHDpOS8CAePNCuXEx3dwHA_se-mJMOYuGdQ9rDOXRtYxhzwBslAjA15Wm498O4LTusm9x9p9-TxTh48_vij6rDROzwarcBVm8VMxfIjOvjksbVDcuMja6tCkuEY/s320/IMG_3522.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Basically, clothesline day is whatever day of the year happens to be the first day that the weather is warm, dry, and breezy enough to allow me to hang out my inaugural load of laundry. It makes me very happy, since, if you have read even a few posts on this blog you know that I am pretty well bonkers about line-dried laundry.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I do, very much, love clothesline day. But it's not exactly a REAL holiday. And if I'm honest, I can't really even say that it's my favorite day of the year. That is something totally different:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Day After Thanksgiving.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some would call this day "Black Friday". Not me. Black Friday implies that I like the day because I enjoy getting up at ungodly hours of the night to stand in long lines in the cold with a bunch of strangers to get into crowded stores and buy things on sale. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That assumption would be completely untrue.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have zero interest in doing any of those things. It doesn't appeal to me at all.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No, my reasons for loving The Day After Thanksgiving so much are many...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>pajamas all day</li><li>eggnog in my coffee</li><li>pie for breakfast</li><li>day off of work</li><li>the house is already clean from yesterday</li><li>don't have to cook - leftovers for lunch AND dinner!</li><li>getting out christmas decorations</li><li>listening to christmas music</li><li>spending the day doing christmas puzzles</li><li>watching christmas movies</li><li>hanging out with my family all day since nobody has any place to be</li><li>even when the day is over, there are still 2 more days of weekend!</li></ul><div>I'm sure there are more. Every year I think of new ways to appreciate this most wonderful day of the year. This year we will have the added bonus of being able to plug in our Christmas lights without the effort of having to spend the day on the roof hanging them up, since we got them out and Dave and Micah spent Halloween putting them on the house! <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3L8GlbBrcITbpG7ROCh4UMCn1qKdGm98tj5KrL2f2RzQWJv8dWuaslZDqRKNNt6Ndyyx39bD6LZCih3OWOkfIcKQQ6-J-ei3z-Ot7fMMLodwy6QEiEtBghzUE73LYyeNJ5VIEtAZPAl0/s4618/IMG_7125.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3464" data-original-width="4618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3L8GlbBrcITbpG7ROCh4UMCn1qKdGm98tj5KrL2f2RzQWJv8dWuaslZDqRKNNt6Ndyyx39bD6LZCih3OWOkfIcKQQ6-J-ei3z-Ot7fMMLodwy6QEiEtBghzUE73LYyeNJ5VIEtAZPAl0/s320/IMG_7125.HEIC" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMur4Nxhm8G5EAjxMv8-HFuVDoWXMpkq9nwt3MI6gRIIBl7zCw-bL7GNo4asEiQNbBHX3zRTZ5LMNzY15vNcudpKPLp97Up4b5aEoZ67-RF6W_WoJaAdfHok04ctfl33EWrCdG-8_gqZg/s4032/IMG_7126.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMur4Nxhm8G5EAjxMv8-HFuVDoWXMpkq9nwt3MI6gRIIBl7zCw-bL7GNo4asEiQNbBHX3zRTZ5LMNzY15vNcudpKPLp97Up4b5aEoZ67-RF6W_WoJaAdfHok04ctfl33EWrCdG-8_gqZg/s320/IMG_7126.HEIC" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So we're all pretty stoked about that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Really, the simple truth of it all is that most holidays generally mean a lot of stress for me. There's usually an unusual amount of cooking and cleaning involved. Frequently decorating. It's not that any of that is bad, or that I don't like to do it. But when EXTRA time and energy is required, it can be hard to come by. Halloween is definitely not my favorite, since 1, I'm just not that into it; 2, it means walking around at night in bad weather and 3, spending weeks arguing with my children about how much candy they should be allowed to eat. (Although this year was a definite improvement as both L & M stayed local and went together, so I could trust them to not be stupid, so Dave and I stayed home and binge watched Downton Abbey. Parent win!) 4th of July is decent, except for the stress over someone setting fire to your house or themselves. Valentine's Day is ok and has improved vastly now that none of my kids have to make valentine boxes for school, but it still seems to mean arguing about candy. Thanksgiving is fun, but really, it's a lot of cleaning, cooking, and dishes (and I don't really even like turkey that much). Generally, I love Christmas. I do. But Christmas, in recent years has become almost unbearable with everything that seems to surround it. If it were just decorating, baking cookies, making dinner, opening presents, and going to church, that would be fabulous. But all the extra - the band concerts, the parties, the multiple gift exchanges, the secret santas, the this that and the other thing that seem to just pile, one on top of the other has gotten to the point that the joy, peace, and magic of Christmas is just buried under a load of calendar entries. I hate covid, but I am thankful that it means this December can be a bit more mellow and hopefully unaccompanied by a constant feeling of drowning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I know this whole spiel has made me sound like a gigantic stick in the mud. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But what I value most about special times like holidays is the ability to just BE with the people I love. To be at home. To focus on the ways that God has blessed us. To remember all of His good gifts - especially since holidays are days which generally bring one or more of those gifts to mind. The older I get the less tolerance I have for being busy. It's not that I want to be lazy - quite the opposite. I want to spend my time caring for my home and my people. I want to have energy to do my job well. I want to have time to enjoy the <i>optional</i> extras about holidays, especially Christmas - taking in the lights, hearing carolers, visiting favorite places, baking ALL the cookies... But when everyone is running in every direction every day, how does any of that not just seem like more busyness? More stuff you HAVE to do, places you HAVE to go. I'm not sure how to balance it. Most if it has to do with teams or organizations my kids are involved with, so short of making them quit everything, I'm not sure what to do. Maybe you're just supposed to try to keep your head above water until they graduate. That prospect kind of sucks. I'm already missing one kid, and don't want to spend the next 6 Christmases just surviving. Well, at least this year, I'm going to fully enjoy NOT being busy. Maybe that'll reenergize me for whenever "normal" comes back.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At any rate, we are currently in the month of my <i>favorite</i> day of the year, and I am most excited about it!</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-75595635371018342812020-11-03T15:51:00.001-08:002020-11-03T15:51:31.572-08:00Dear Americans,<p>Please be kind to one another.</p><p>Please be decent human beings.</p><p>Please rise above what the media expects of you. </p><p>Please remember that you have friends and relatives and coworkers and neighbors on all sides of the political scale. </p><p>Please keep in mind that, whichever candidate a person favors, they likely have a reason for doing so, same as you. </p><p>Please understand that that reason is probably not as sinister as you may think. </p><p>Please turn off your TV, put down your phone, or whatever it is you need to do if the anxiety you feel about this election is causing you to <b>hate </b>people you actually love. If it’s causing you to hate anyone! When this is over, we still have to live with each other, work with each other, spend Christmas with each other. </p><p>Please don’t let your feelings about an election ruin your relationships. Or drive you to violence. Or make you believe that the world is ending. It’s not. The political leaders of our country do have quite a bit of power, but not that much. </p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-89235059180071454102020-10-29T19:19:00.001-07:002020-10-29T19:41:47.006-07:00Growing in patience <p> I am an outrageously impatient person. </p><p>This was revealed to me (again) today as I was pestering my poor husband with questions about kindle unlimited. </p><p>You see, I like to read books. I get bees in my bonnet all the time on various subjects and want to do research and read ALL the books on the subject de jour as soon as possible. Part of this urgency is due to the fact that I have a rather short attention span, and I know the next bee is just around the corner, and will be pushing its way into my bonnet at any moment, thereby edging out the current one. So with books, I rely a lot on the library. I place holds, pick up books, get them on my kindle if it’s faster.... But the library’s selection can be somewhat limited, especially when it comes to non-fiction or obscure books that I frequently find myself searching. Or, the wait is so long, by the time I get it, I will have forgotten why I wanted to read it! But paying for books is not something I’m keen to do. I’m so spoiled by the library, that the idea of BUYING a book seems ludicrous. Sure, maybe if it’s a classic or a really good novel I know I want to read again or want my kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids to read, then yes - that’s a book I want on my shelf. But otherwise, I’d rather borrow.</p><p>So I was hoping that kindle unlimited might be like Spotify for books. Sadly, it’s not exactly as unlimited as it would have you believe. I felt very indignant about this. Why shouldn’t I be able to get any book I want, any time I want it, without having to pay for it?!?!</p><p>How very Veruca Salt of me. Don’t care how, I want it now!</p><p>It’s not only books I’m like this with. Really, what’s driving a lot of my colossal impatience, is the idea that I should be able to KNOW all the things. Right now. I want to figure out the workings of the universe. I want to understand how it is that the eternal Word of God pertains to current issues that are so difficult to navigate. I want to know how to make sense of the various understandings of the covenants between God and his people and how exactly that affects me and what I do and how I do it. I want to know exactly what I believe about ALL THE THINGS so I can know how best to teach it to my kids. Or so I’ll have the right answer to tell the person I’m likely to have a conversation with TOMORROW! </p><p>You see? It all just feels very urgent. </p><p>But I think that all my years of impatience have helped me to learn something. </p><p>You cannot know know everything all at once.</p><p>You cannot actually even know everything! Ever! </p><p>And it’s ok if you don’t know it all. Sometimes, simply the searching is enough.</p><p>Sometimes, you aren’t ready to fully understand something until a later point in your life. </p><p>Sometimes, you simply don’t get to know everything because you need to learn patience and learn to trust the Teacher. </p><p>Besides, if I knew everything already, what would be left to research?</p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-21472884520719441312020-10-26T17:05:00.002-07:002020-10-26T17:09:09.124-07:00November Meal Plan<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meal plans are something that have historically had a big presence on this blog. Not so much in recent years. Well, actually not very much has had much of a presence on this blog in recent years. But I digress. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meal plans were big back in the day, because the overarching focus of this blog (and my life) at that time was homemaking and all that that entailed. Planning meals was an essential part of that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Unfortunately, my kids were ungracious enough to grow up and I had to grown up with them and get a job, and thus, my focus has hence become divided. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That is not to say that I don’t still have to perform all of those homemaking tasks which, at the time, dominated the bulk of my focus and energy (and all that fun stuff like changing diapers and bathing children and dealing with fevers and runny noses and fighting with the never-ending onslaught of excessive toys), they just get shunted onto the back burner of my time and energy where they continue to taunt me with the guilt of having not been done well, properly, on time, or at all... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">but again, I digress. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The importance of meal planning has become no less necessary in recent years. In fact, it has probably become even MORE necessary as we have all become busier. I used to always plan a week at a time, and then do my shopping accordingly. Lately, I’ve taken to planning a month at a time, and I completely LOVE it. I still do the shopping weekly, but knowing a whole month just became brainless relieves a lot of stress. I have done it list style, and like this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9mzhIP9DrvZ8seKAcioYF-WQyCRoBWtBIaNWKD7XYVs2_wvTS87u_pOte-HvMMnOo38JoF5YL3l6gwnO89VRI6bdosQF8E-cG0Q9P1KbVeKUUYltE4dO7AGpICplfJQtsKB71-1D3Q4/s4032/IMG_7099.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9mzhIP9DrvZ8seKAcioYF-WQyCRoBWtBIaNWKD7XYVs2_wvTS87u_pOte-HvMMnOo38JoF5YL3l6gwnO89VRI6bdosQF8E-cG0Q9P1KbVeKUUYltE4dO7AGpICplfJQtsKB71-1D3Q4/s320/IMG_7099.HEIC" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>I probably prefer the calendar lay out. It enables me to see what day is what, without having to figure it out based on disembodied dates. To further make things brainless (this is a big thing lately - apparently my brain function is limited and I don’t like to use it more than I must) I have several days of the week that fall into categories. Pizza happens once a week. It has been on Wednesdays, but I think we’re moving it back to Fridays. Sunday is always breakfast for dinner. Tuesday is some version of Taco Tuesday. Monday is generally something quick or something Dave can make without needing to wait for me to come home with ingredients, since I do the shopping on Mondays. And we clean out the fridge on Saturdays. <p></p><p>It’s fantastic every Sunday when I check the menu for the coming week and make my shopping list. Sometimes coming up with 7 meals every week seems overwhelming and repetitive. If I have a whole month in between having to do it, I find it much less tedious. </p><p> </p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-43765917511827647212020-10-23T11:11:00.002-07:002020-10-23T12:35:39.418-07:00An excess of negativity<p>I have a confession to make. I hope you will hear it. Along with it comes an apology.</p><p>I have been feeling very convicted lately that my manner of speech and demeanor has been excessively negative. I could list off a number of excuses for why this may be. I'm sure you would nod your head and agree that all of them are perfectly legitimate reason for one to feel upset, angry, negative, pessimistic, etc. </p><p>But really, it is that I have allowed myself to become unfocused on the things that are true. I have allowed my heart and eyes to have been turned inward to my own reasoning of the things I see and experience around me and <i>how I think they should be</i>. I have not focused on Jesus and the promises of God's Word. I have neglected that relationship, due to a number of emotions and frustrations - not with God, but with what I have allowed to cloud my ideas <i>about</i> God - and my perception of things has been negatively impacted. </p><p>I have allowed myself to be negatively influenced by the negative speech and attitudes of others, and even worse, allowed <i>my own</i> negative speech attitude to negatively influence <i>others</i>. </p><p>For this, I hope you will forgive me. </p><p>My peace is grounded in the God of the universe and knowing that my place with him is secure, regardless of elections or wars or church politics or pandemics. And because of that, I can have hope and <i>hopefully</i> leave my negativity behind.</p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-42354595221545468302020-10-18T18:05:00.001-07:002020-10-18T18:18:13.274-07:00adventures with spicy pickled beans<p align="left"><font face="Courier New">Well, thanks to COVID, we had some extra time on our hands this year (with all the lack of activities and school and commuting and all), so we did what everyone else did and planted an extensive garden. Dave built me these fantastic raised beds, we filled them with compost, added plants and didn’t do a lot else. One of the things we wound up with an abundance of is green beans. I planted both bush beans and pole beans. We eat beans at least once a week (with our pizza, because we’re weird like that), but at the height of the season, there’s really only so many green beans one family can use. </font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1aPEeeLZlm9QDfF4THgpcuAjp6It6Y-zv"><img title="IMG_E6435" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_E6435" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1gL7hMDLk4yf2tuEK6b6rrcmRL3WmpVVn" width="642" height="428" /></a></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">Now, because I’m old-fashioned like that, I have long held this delusional fantasy of something along the lines of homesteading… living off-the-grid, if you will. I have this idealized, <em>Little House on the Prairie</em> idea of how we should live, not dependent on the grocery store, or really anyone, to aid in our “survival”… But, let’s face it, I’m not exactly cut out to be a “prepper”, much as I would like to convince you all that I am. BUT, growing and preserving our own produce is one of those things that I’ve always wanted to do, but never gotten around to learning how to do. Usually, when I want to learn how to do something, I check out every book I can find on the subject from the library and read them until I’ve either convinced myself I can do it, or get too intimidated and ditch the idea. Canning is one of those “intimidating” topics for me. </font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">But, one random Sunday afternoon in August, finding myself with an abundance of beans and a bee in my bonnet, I suddenly announced that I was going to the store and buying jars and canning supplies. FINALLY. (I’ve been threatening to for at least a decade.)</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">Now, my mom sufficiently scared me away from wanting to do any normal canning of green beans. The word “botulism” is right up there in the URGENT: MUST REMEMBER portion of my memory (right along with choking on fish bones will kill you), so the whole pressure canner thing is something I still approach with caution and much fear and trembling. But I thought I could probably pull off some pickled beans and just do a normal water bath canning. </font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">Honestly, the only way this actually happened was because of the aforementioned “bee in my bonnet” phenomenon. Had I waited, this never would have happened. But, I found a recipe that sounded yummy: <a title="https://www.splendidtable.org/story/2018/09/10/spicy-pickled-green-beans" href="https://www.splendidtable.org/story/2018/09/10/spicy-pickled-green-beans ">https://www.splendidtable.org/story/2018/09/10/spicy-pickled-green-beans </a></font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">And then I set out to find all the things I needed. </font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">I acquired jars and lids, pickling salt, and all the spices, along with the jar tongs and funnel and all that.</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">I picked my beans, washed them and cut them into lengths that would fit in the jars. I sliced up my garlic cloves and measured out my dill seed, red pepper flakes, peppercorns, and brown mustard seeds… I mixed up my brine. I filled my pot with water and put the trivet in the bottom. I washed my jars and boiled my lids… all the stuff you’re supposed to do. </font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=13RP7lgLP-2wDuLEwUaMxs87RwQ953gtc"><img title="IMG_6436" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; float: none; display: block; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6436" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1u8JGknVTy9VwEHO6evjtTob9iNaGhBXL" width="642" height="429" /></a></font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">I was SO CRAZY NERVOUS!!! </font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1JNAiI42JrWxfRJOWOQvm70hatD7L6dNu"><img title="IMG_6438" style="margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6438" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1oD6JCeKVZA6NvJHw4sN4V-0GA52miUXV" width="322" height="482" /></a></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">The biggest problem turned out to be that my pot wasn’t quite big enough and keeping the jars covered meant that water would boil over and put out the burner. So I kept having to move the pot back and forth from burner to burner to keep it boiling, since being doused with water makes a gas burner reluctant to re-light. Next time I’ll use my biggest pot.</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">But, when the time was up, and I pulled the jars out to cool, they looked like they were supposed to.</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">I followed the recipe’s instructions and left them alone over night.</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=13muahhmYOt83jFP9NADuV5bTnYs06OgI"><img title="IMG_E6439" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_E6439" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1ap-3FkXurMrUCdnH_rt55n317KChwvRy" width="642" height="427" /></a></p> <p align="left"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1eA5NFRppBMyYwuDcjlay1LBBWzWPfXsr"><img title="IMG_6444" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; float: none; display: block; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6444" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1-WF2q5RO-oUJ74up8ka77wbGaCpnFtTy" width="322" height="482" /></a></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">The next morning, they appeared to be sealed properly, so I labeled them and put them away on a shelf in my pantry. They looked so pretty! I’ll admit, I was outrageously proud of myself for actually doing this, and (apparently) not screwing it up!</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1Tg12i_QwstT6U28J9B83eWwgeTxeBBvw"><img title="IMG_6445" style="margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6445" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1JpqL-WWpV3FgMEY-LIx5h4G4Al3XVwSr" width="322" height="482" /></a></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">So, there they sat. Looking pretty. I kept looking at them and wondering if they were appropriately “pickled” yet… I was apprehensive. Would they taste good? Would they poison me? </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Courier New"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1hc_HdZB_NwyTQRw2EUyT1JfJrpRFILzN"><img title="IMG_6960" style="margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6960" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1-Qn4OoV559CqfteTBP2qu6OKGJTuGn5L" width="322" height="482" /></a></font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">Finally, last week I got a hankering AND the courage to pull a jar out and try it. Based on the evidence provided by how hard the jar was to open, I’d say the sealing process happened according to plan. I tried my first bean…</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=16XIj7WaohY9Mg0ACPpQqD3wvr3x5ajqK"><img title="IMG_6961" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6961" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1innhJDVzf3rqb7JLBxa1oah6HiYHHXJb" width="322" height="482" /></a></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">I think my exact words were something like, “Oh my gosh! This is delicious!!” Seriously! They were SO good! Definitely pickled, definitely spicy, but super crisp and yummy, and definitely NOT poison! </font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1Aepa41NEu1KbfRcJ_o7OxIjNMxJt42Wl"><img title="IMG_6987" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; float: none; display: block; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6987" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1E_wHjh7ArMjMTFzQmsNZQvzPn-8Eyyzw" width="322" height="482" /></a></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">The first jar was gone within a couple of days. All the brine and spices left in the jar made me feel like they should be able to be repurposed for something… Seemed a shame to just dump them down the disposal. But I couldn’t think of anything practical to do with them, so away they went.</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">The second jar was opened soon after, and at this point, my only regret is that I only made 4 jars!</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">Next year, I’m planting lots of beans, and I might just pickle them all!</font></p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-45113160352163768062020-10-18T16:48:00.001-07:002020-10-18T16:51:08.637-07:00Micah’s Birthday<p><font face="Courier New">This kid had the audacity to turn 13 yesterday… As was expected, I was a bit of a hot mess about the whole affair.</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1T86GpeCsTDA8HhC62USLBRSScylNvB9Q"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_6989" style="border-width: 0px; display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6989" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1iQ2pX0kmt81GLChVLD5XLYSho3ViTnCo" width="321" height="482" /></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New">Here’s his “last day to be 12” photo. He ran out of fingers a couple years ago, so taking a page out of Shane’s book, he borrowed a couple of feet from the cat to make 12.</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1uMKHP9R3yx58f0dgcD6o94P4cgI9wmES"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_6992" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6992" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1-5zh29EZ5Wc-px66bK7DCEFNP79OY2FA" width="322" height="482" /></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New">But, not too old to choose Lucky Charms for his birthday breakfast.</font></p> <p><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1uWZtmBlMhrmSdW2pKrmAJdsrXVpZdLd0"><font face="Courier New"><img title="ETKT9009" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="ETKT9009" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1_wvxiu9tk6CxQ1jZNpU5A_MfmEGtXxTn" width="642" height="429" /></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New">He got his happy birthday facetime call first thing and got to open his gift from Gramma and Skip while they watched…</font></p> <p><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1MDNZg3U9aEzsrrI0kTXHsL7OtXar6Une"><font face="Courier New"><img title="HPDFE9510" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="HPDFE9510" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1oTqlCi-M-6BG7zJeCtuXAlVlTEd8IGW0" width="642" height="429" /></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New">He’s had a boom box on his list this year. You might remember that 2 years ago, it was a Walkman. The obsession with 80s audio continues. Gramma found this one and it seems to fit the bill. Looks totally retro, plays and records tapes but also has radio AND a USB port so he could use some modern tech with it, as well.</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1HAILZ1m5a_NXbNg6aCvoP3K9kY9psgXC"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_6995" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_6995" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1bkdj-yNd6qDmRQcTdXf07tEe-rBXIyv6" width="322" height="482" /></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New">So, he spent the morning taking advantage of the birthday allowances of not having to do his weekend chores and lifted time limits on video games… all while listening to the radio or one tape or another on the boom box that followed him from room to room. At one point, he expressed frustration about wanting to record a certain song off the radio, but he didn’t start it in time, AND they were <em>talking over the beginning of the song! </em>Dave and I laughed really hard over that.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Courier New"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1pXmiXbtJFvV3DwGoVFpBpD2L_y5SRZTz"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_7003" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7003" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1FCPbFouVwwm3WFVWxivWrlIDjONoLob0" width="322" height="482" /></font></a></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New">Eventually, we headed out to play some mini golf, and Micah got to enjoy riding shotgun. (Small kids… We have to go for the age limits rather than weight requirements.)</font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1cY1hJusJemfsm-XgFNdc5PwOfKL34Ax0"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_7005" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7005" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1Yjc531LgO-T8sgcIMC2TwuxGcCkad9HD" width="642" height="429" /></font></a></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New">Micah’s godmother, Amy, and her kids joined us, as did my dad, Shane and Leslie.</font></p> <p><font face="Courier New">Enjoy gratuitous golfing photos:</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1mz1cFjia3RaBVYxX41sTRNSxK1hBnmeQ"><font face="Courier New"><img title="YKSO7850" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="YKSO7850" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1VUNvA7qytWrhNj6MbPiUKIKHoUUq_IQK" width="642" height="429" /><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1_BsbZthUgIt4Dh4kE1WG7wn870TvL_wc"><font face="Courier New"><img title="ACUS2710" style="border: 0px currentcolor; display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="ACUS2710" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1AgcfMYOY-CRLdRB8A6c5bKrv75u-UZwS" width="322" height="482" /></font></a></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New"><img title="JQUB3399" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="JQUB3399" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1nnWEKvYIE1-HcdjpInhpVnecEyFuOmDU" width="642" height="429" /><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_7010" style="border: 0px currentcolor; display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7010" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1nXO2hhxo3ogJile5Lmf8n6bHF6U_FlzH" width="322" height="482" /> <font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_7011" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7011" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1_OuUJIi5wK2gi2ZNuLcNdIB6a15LvYyy" width="321" height="482" /><font face="Courier New">Shane, in particular, seemed to have an uncanny ability to get his ball wedged down in some crazy crevice or through some tiny space in the edge of the course.</font></font></font></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New">Then we returned back home to eat some birthday dinner (Red Robin take out), open presents, play some Scattergories, and have cupcakes.</font></p> <p><font face="Courier New">Enjoy gratuitous gift-opening pictures:</font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_7016" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7016" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1UckvfNMBGBr4G-VyW3psMIaIinhihZ1k" width="321" height="482" /> <img title="IMG_7018" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7018" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1wdiXVTYuCxG1kjxiaNdE4iKVQubmlsWR" width="321" height="482" /><img title="IMG_7022" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7022" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1mTBFUjWuf5iKJyq8Z3C8Xjx0jqWILCmU" width="321" height="482" /> <img title="IMG_7024" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7024" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1KGRDJAxisJe0U0kI0KLGF67WmlzuzMgN" width="322" height="482" /><img title="IMG_7027" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7027" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1RXZ7FQMjv4QUiLOBlHXDQ8sCMRL-IO3i" width="322" height="482" /> <img title="IMG_7028" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7028" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1qJuvmK6rsO5POlB-1QwIw1b42VfRBysP" width="321" height="482" /><img title="IMG_7031" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7031" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1SxIt1on7w68RfMtKIuMR0YZfTNoAMTri" width="321" height="482" /> <img title="IMG_7032" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7032" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1JldMfrZ14t9m9F-1S8l27jNjIVSjJqw8" width="322" height="482" />In summary, he received a lot of what was on his list… new joy cons for his switch, a new mario game, money, a nintendo gift card. Layla also passed along her 49ers jersey (grudgingly) because it’s really too small for her and he had one on his list, and the latest Dog Man book. We also gave him a Costco pack of tape, which will probably be the most well-used of all his gifts, even if he thought it was silly. There’s another couple little things that should be here tomorrow – Amazon didn’t come through in time.</font></p> <p><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1yvWNBqW9jsAfqZamMuDQZu1AEvCu4_Yc"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_E6997" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_E6997" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1p97cpOgrr-2O4Hh3NgplzBj_gV2546Qb" width="642" height="429" /></font></a></p> <p><font face="Courier New">As usual, Layla made his birthday cake this year – cupcakes this time, so as to avoid the whole <em>blowing your nasty germs all over the cake we’re all going to eat</em> scenario. Thanks for the awareness, covid. He requested white cake, purple frosting, and Skittles. </font></p> <p><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=11g3ZMkH6K2-rNnermKs-Jfda10cK2knJ"><font face="Courier New"><img title="DUWNE5219" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="DUWNE5219" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1UPsziACt0QEjivP1SvvjI0bLbGT69SnZ" width="642" height="429" /></font></a></p> <p align="center"><font face="Courier New"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1oXZcRP71xsD00Ousr8FJyzU-nkqltGJ5"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_7034" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_7034" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1L58khPK5VFdzP8tOmqA-W0YGNaEwoLBV" width="322" height="482" /></font></a></font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">This cracks me up. Shane was heading out and I wanted to grab a picture really quick… They were horsing around and I wound up catching Shane with the hugest, cheesy smile – I can NEVER get him to smile in pictures! HA!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Courier New"><a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=19Jq1BSRKAWTJptm2bzvkCXE1wVdan2Qc"><font face="Courier New"><img title="IMG_E6998" style="display: inline; background-image: none;" border="0" alt="IMG_E6998" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1S0M-eG8w-oItpUe4B9w2NoRsOlij3KVB" width="322" height="482" /></font></a></font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Courier New">So there you go… My last one has become a teenager. I’m not handling it particularly well. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a super-cool teenager and I very much like him just how he is right now. But man. They’re all so OLD! I keep feeling like it’s nearly over – this parenting gig. Not that you ever stop, but still. There are phases of parenting, and a lot of them have already been left behind and you can’t go back. That part makes me sad. <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> <p><font face="Courier New"></font></p> </font></p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-66583820700672791022020-10-14T18:17:00.001-07:002020-10-14T18:17:09.348-07:00fall.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I have kind of a confusing love/hate relationship with fall. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">On the one hand, I get super excited about the beautiful trees changing color. I love seeing pumpkins piled up on people's porches. I love cuddling up with a hot beverage in the afternoon. I like windstorms - yesterday's was pretty impressive - and even the potential power outage that follows, provided it doesn't last too long. I love digging out my Uggs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">But at the same time, fall depresses me. I love summer, and I hate rain. Knowing that my shorts and sandals are put away until next May (at the soonest) is super sad. Knowing I'm going to be cold and wet for the foreseeable future is extremely discouraging. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Some people love fall because of Halloween. I'm kind of ambiguous about it. I don't love it, I don't hate it. Really, at this point, it just means arguing with my kids for the next month about candy. I could easily do without it...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Some people love fall because of pumpkin spice everything. Doesn't do it for me. I've had the lattes and they aren't terrible, but I can think of lots of better ways to ingest a million calories in one shot. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">But, ultimately, I enjoy the cyclical rhythm of the seasons. The predictable nature and knowing what you'll see and what to expect. The fact that, after you've endured months and months of dark and wet and cold, you'll start seeing daffodils and crocuses poking through the ground. Eventually things will dry out and warm up. Being outside won't require a coat, and your feet won't be wet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">But until then, I'll do my best to embrace where we are...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I spotted this cool mushroom while out walking the dog tonight. I don't particularly love fungus, mostly mushrooms annoy me because they pop up in my yard and let me know that things are really just too damp... This one is super cool, however, and probably super poisonous.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6qNi_vVyZWltWYELrM20BW7ZUET6HZUfQZRKRhafp1jHZLCqfhThoR1_k31ancAWsaGZaevjEGG_KBi-R_St_0hrcCt_Aw_6pIVZCgaQN1rQo5ikoxWjg785p5GcCd3waO_gwqmO9utk/s4032/IMG_6972.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6qNi_vVyZWltWYELrM20BW7ZUET6HZUfQZRKRhafp1jHZLCqfhThoR1_k31ancAWsaGZaevjEGG_KBi-R_St_0hrcCt_Aw_6pIVZCgaQN1rQo5ikoxWjg785p5GcCd3waO_gwqmO9utk/w300-h400/IMG_6972.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also love it when I find a perfect leaf. Gorgeous color, shape.... Just being its best leaf-self.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2uPQHyXdJBFxEWdCvFU1zHn7flCrID5ztoaVPlB1SkM4uDPYNYzJkDMsTsXVyoNH13kE8dOtMTLqRkrjnd7EUbOGMrt4RpixqqneiGucWEaYpl35r4s11mrC_sdz8RR22OM-05JpYXU/s4032/IMG_6973.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2uPQHyXdJBFxEWdCvFU1zHn7flCrID5ztoaVPlB1SkM4uDPYNYzJkDMsTsXVyoNH13kE8dOtMTLqRkrjnd7EUbOGMrt4RpixqqneiGucWEaYpl35r4s11mrC_sdz8RR22OM-05JpYXU/w300-h400/IMG_6973.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then there's this... has nothing to do with fall, but this cat is something else. She really is the Queen of All Things....</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPv6tAozGyJS6O8psqWKxDx3xHaaxeLPdtb5v4v_hO877VDO64ZfLZ5woBFNuuQ5gpcst6FZxH89vX8GapblekayjmbdmB_rUpdB2XZPurE581KvpFTvj6ovsvj70aDf1aS08FsNRlac/s2057/IMG_6967.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="2057" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPv6tAozGyJS6O8psqWKxDx3xHaaxeLPdtb5v4v_hO877VDO64ZfLZ5woBFNuuQ5gpcst6FZxH89vX8GapblekayjmbdmB_rUpdB2XZPurE581KvpFTvj6ovsvj70aDf1aS08FsNRlac/w400-h300/IMG_6967.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /> And that's that. <p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">I actually am loving this. I get to put stuff out there. Say whatever I want about it. People can read it if they want to, or not if they don't. I'm not so much loving the blogger platform. There used to be some better external publishing tools that would allow a little more freedom and customization in posting. But I've been out of the game long enough to have let all that knowledge lapse... Maybe I'll catch up and figure it out. In the meantime, this'll do.</p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-76101347654645286082020-10-13T10:46:00.001-07:002020-10-15T09:29:10.934-07:00just a fall day<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday was a little bit exciting, in the usual mundane way... on my way out of my neighborhood in the morning on the way to work, I passed a school bus on my street. a big, full-size school bus! then, when I pulled up to the light, there was another one!!! Kindergarteners in our district started in-person school this week! a few little signs of "normal" can be found returning here and there. I didn't realize how much that sort of thing would affect me, but then again, school buses always get me a little bit verklempt.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVpqg8NLnKKkzrEDQOr0tSP9cnn3QI8EjFmUyaVr39EB_ongrmYbbYXMdLGO4sm5DJC_cSC31zh3VBQCnM7tsCx-OtJzYoERwm5pHHbbxyshuni3jojrf312jhxI85hw8OZEmQFRbCGfQ/s2121/IMG_6962.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2121" data-original-width="1591" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVpqg8NLnKKkzrEDQOr0tSP9cnn3QI8EjFmUyaVr39EB_ongrmYbbYXMdLGO4sm5DJC_cSC31zh3VBQCnM7tsCx-OtJzYoERwm5pHHbbxyshuni3jojrf312jhxI85hw8OZEmQFRbCGfQ/s320/IMG_6962.HEIC" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Although it was absolutely POURING all night and in the morning, it all moved out by afternoon and Bonezy and I got a proper walk in.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNk-llmASspksRh7_hG4X0ulDKYlhjwuO1dLnayGRbaFFobD_5x8RRGcJB8GdT05l892NvgwBAnbPMQCLl3P2pkUfmFptlOnq-XrmifkDOY0tHiZIExgctVi17F67EoxQ5PXnEVlTjqg/s4032/IMG_6964.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNk-llmASspksRh7_hG4X0ulDKYlhjwuO1dLnayGRbaFFobD_5x8RRGcJB8GdT05l892NvgwBAnbPMQCLl3P2pkUfmFptlOnq-XrmifkDOY0tHiZIExgctVi17F67EoxQ5PXnEVlTjqg/s320/IMG_6964.HEIC" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After our walk, I did a little garden clean-up/maintenance. We had a few of the giant sunflowers that hadn't fallen over yet, so I cut them down and composted and started pulling out some pumpkin vines. I harvested our final pumpkin that has now turned almost entirely orange and put in on the porch with the others.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoEHxh0btsJ9OYSjpk9CIpwfLZL2DlCSClOFglSn1kHjjWzY5amz-gOF91SGha8ms4xqzXOZNT_TmBLeBV3bsItTL9poQnFW7znDdjCXB3b86t_cGnA-BeIlVcN_iBNW_zhTTwAEytRAc/s4032/IMG_6965.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoEHxh0btsJ9OYSjpk9CIpwfLZL2DlCSClOFglSn1kHjjWzY5amz-gOF91SGha8ms4xqzXOZNT_TmBLeBV3bsItTL9poQnFW7znDdjCXB3b86t_cGnA-BeIlVcN_iBNW_zhTTwAEytRAc/w400-h225/IMG_6965.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And, lastly, a balloon sighting!! This time of year, you never know when will be the last one you see.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMjGR0w1m2xj7r0ejcYwR7yGqjzEw-qN7x2PzFRyiK_vajyRfzuniXMm7uqmLIvLbBf9_gcA5j3xERbtTApcFjG0qaVSIzL0BsdRwXhQJ9mqIwaXWSpTyngmyuCWQNS6EDXsE90iNNcTw/s4032/IMG_6966.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMjGR0w1m2xj7r0ejcYwR7yGqjzEw-qN7x2PzFRyiK_vajyRfzuniXMm7uqmLIvLbBf9_gcA5j3xERbtTApcFjG0qaVSIzL0BsdRwXhQJ9mqIwaXWSpTyngmyuCWQNS6EDXsE90iNNcTw/w241-h320/IMG_6966.HEIC" width="241" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-42751806816795162102020-10-11T15:19:00.004-07:002020-10-11T15:19:50.977-07:00Leaving Social Media behind - at least for now<p>I'm attempting to resurrect this blog as an outlet for all those mundane things I might have shared on Facebook or Instagram, but have decided not to. </p><p>Mostly because I enjoy using that sort of thing as a record of the happenings in and around our house. But Social Media has become particularly icky and I don't really wish to contribute to or partake in it any longer. </p><p>I still take pictures. I still want to record what's going on. I still want to share funny things that happen, even if only with my future self.</p><p>Right now, I'm wading through the technical aspects of doing this. Back when I blogged regularly, I did so usually from my desktop. Adding photos was easy, because I regularly uploaded the pictures from my phone or camera to files on my computer. Then 3 or 4 years ago, I got a phone with obscene amounts of storage, and I haven't done that since, and I honestly don't even know how anymore! Yes, all of my photos get backed up to google photos, but that is under Dave's google account, and this blog is under mine, so it won't let me access them. So there you go.</p><p>And then there was the bit where I wanted to be able to blog from the road when we took our big road trip in 2018. But blogger no longer had a mobile app. So I started a WordPress blog and Dave transferred all the content from this blog over there, which is why none of the former posts on here have any pictures. But WordPress has funny privacy settings. If your blog is public, it gets pushed out there to all sorts of whacko strangers who then decide to subscribe to it. Creepy. But if you set it to private, anyone who wants to read it has to set up a WordPress account. Super lame and inconvenient and most people won't do it.</p><p>So here we are. I'm sure my handsome IT guy will have a workable solution for me at some point. Maybe he just needs to remind me how to use a computer. 😂</p><p>At any rate, I may pop onto FB to post links, if I ever figure out how to actually make this work the way I want it to.</p><p>You can leave comments on the posts in here if you feel the need to do so. I'll see those.</p><p>Don't leave comments on the FB posts. I won't see those.</p>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-66411040408839937042020-04-18T14:36:00.002-07:002020-04-18T17:37:57.986-07:00ramblings from quarantine...<h4>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal;">it's been like 37 days since the kids' schools closed and we all started working from home. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal;">for the most part, it's been WONDERFUL. for me.</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">unfortunately, not all the people who live with me seem to agree with that stance and i don't think they'll allow me to institute a quarantine lifestyle when we're no longer required to do so. {insert sad face}</span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">so I'm trying to make the most of it now, while i can. But, in true "rachel" fashion, i'm already anxiously analyzing what will happen when things return to "normal". </span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">that's where i am today. it's kind of a blah day. we've had the most amazing string of beautiful spring days. i've taken my dog on a good, long walk every day of this quarantine. i have only been rained on once. ONCE people! do you understand how crazy that is for March/April in the pnw? but today it's been rainy and overcast. it's messing with my positive attitude. </span></span></h4>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i've been toying with the idea of creating a pro/con list. or something like that. things i do and don't like about this particular weird and "unprecedented" time in history.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>Things I don't like about Quarantine:</u></span></span></div>
<div>
<ol>
<li>The obvious: people are sick and dying. The actual reason for this quarantine totally sucks.</li>
<li>related to that is the fact that people are out of work, businesses aren't surviving, the economy and stock market are not in a good state.</li>
<li>the library isn't open! Not being able to put actual paper books on hold and go pick them up is majorly frustrating me. I can't even return the books i'm done with!</li>
<li>i feel like i'm committing a crime every time i go to the store. mostly that's been the grocery store once a week and i went to lowe's once with dave. we discovered that layla's shorts are all too small and she needs new ones. shopping with her is a nightmare anyway, but not having a lot options where she can try stuff on is problematic. online ordering intimidates me because i figure i'll be forking over a lot of money all at once and will involve a LOT of returning because nothing ever fits her, and that will require a trip to the post office, which will feel like a crime as well. </li>
<li>layla is feeling antsy about not seeing her friends and she's disappointed that the school play she was just starting to rehearse got cancelled.</li>
<li>i bought a bunch of fun spring dresses from thredup just before this all hit, and now i have no place to wear them.</li>
<li>i do miss seeing my co-workers and that fun, but we keep up a group text so that's nice.</li>
</ol>
<div>
<u>Things I like about Quarantine:</u></div>
</div>
<div>
<ol>
<li>working from home. there is not one teeny little thing i miss about my sucky commute and long hours away from home. i know how lucky i am that my job has translated very easily to working from home. i like my job, i just don't like having to GET there.</li>
<li>messy buns or baseball hats every day!</li>
<li>not getting up at 5am!</li>
<li>kids going to school at home. i love having them around all day. and not having to put them on the bus at 6:20 and 6:45am every day is amazing.</li>
<li>no in-person meetings. dave had a crazy amount of meetings that he was always running off to, which meant a lot of juggling who was going where, how they were going to get there, and who was going to pick them up, especially when they both had to be picked up or dropped off at the same time in different locations.</li>
<li>no activities. i know this makes me sound like a horribly unsupportive parent, and it's not the activities themselves i don't like. it's the craziness of everyone running every which-way every night.</li>
<li>slower pace of life. i love a leisurely morning. i love going about my day, not rushed by schedules and traffic and making sure the timing is right to leave one thing to make it to the next thing on time. riding the hamster wheel is exhausting to me. and we live way too far away from literally everything.</li>
<li>long walks with my dog.</li>
<li>knitting projects.</li>
<li>reading books - individually, and as a family.</li>
<li>not having to put on makeup. (actually, the best part of that is not having to wash it off at the end of the day. i hate that part.)</li>
<li>family dinner every night.</li>
<li>cooking real food every night.</li>
<li>having time to deal with home projects and maintenance that need to be dealt with but we never have time.</li>
<li>having time and energy to clean and tidy my house every day.</li>
<li>having time (and appropriate weather) for using my clothesline. (it doesn't work very well to hang things up at 5pm... you kind of need all day)</li>
<li>seeing my kids truly enjoying each other and spending time together (since that's their only choice!)</li>
<li>spending all my time AT MY HOUSE, which i love!</li>
<li>saying hi to neighbors as they walk by, because they all do!</li>
<li>coronavirus memes. seriously. they're funny.</li>
<li>my anxiety level is WAY low. one of my biggest sources of anxiety is the same old vomit phobia i've always had, and that's pretty much non-existent right now. my kids aren't going anywhere, so there's no place for them to pick up the stomach flu! lower anxiety means i have so much more energy, since i'm not in panic/battle mode all day, every day. laugh if you want, but it's a very real thing for me and it sucks.</li>
<li>the feeling that we are working together as a family at something. i'm not sure what that something is, but we're in it together. it's not "everyone for himself" every single day as we go off to do our own jobs or school, followed by our own activities, none of which involve anyone else, except for the part where you need a ride to get there.</li>
</ol>
<div>
I guess i must be weird or something, because i feel like everyone else is really hating quarantine life. to me, this feels like living. normal life just feels like surviving. </div>
</div>
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rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-668135550022877982019-02-25T10:55:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:36:05.864-07:00Project Life, Week 8 of 2019Holey socks, melting snow, knitting at the pool, and belly rubs.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdd8SX8uaeCvGGKpoN1H-HmvIxTEpiVEeVdmk6sghxiyQOevFd6EoWyVrJ6-At__pWL9xK2dQHUyGibZO7oEDEp1admhjRHN6oVoGB2WR2Iff-dj1oaJ4lX27Tc0OQJRaK2dBa9UjF8Y/s2048/190217_project-life-25116e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdd8SX8uaeCvGGKpoN1H-HmvIxTEpiVEeVdmk6sghxiyQOevFd6EoWyVrJ6-At__pWL9xK2dQHUyGibZO7oEDEp1admhjRHN6oVoGB2WR2Iff-dj1oaJ4lX27Tc0OQJRaK2dBa9UjF8Y/w640-h640/190217_project-life-25116e.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SIjl86rlq4cNu4G0wa0MItkR2Fs8rPEpDBqDUMygCcs3-K4FrGQaE8zZmQSbmp1Yp4ssnq7XianpmzL9KaosoD_t1RMvfcd23Y2car4HHcEkU2VEt5h3CEWSB-4SDvLH7h17LpdT9Ek/s2048/190220_project-life-7eac5b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SIjl86rlq4cNu4G0wa0MItkR2Fs8rPEpDBqDUMygCcs3-K4FrGQaE8zZmQSbmp1Yp4ssnq7XianpmzL9KaosoD_t1RMvfcd23Y2car4HHcEkU2VEt5h3CEWSB-4SDvLH7h17LpdT9Ek/w640-h640/190220_project-life-7eac5b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-63251737201675674822019-02-18T10:50:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:37:44.391-07:00Project Life, Week 7 of 2019Lots of pictures this week because, omg snow!! So much snow! Also related, snow plows and trading in the van for a Suburban! And Valentines Day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN3fWgYcqw0Rb8pbnVU1ZXoOZ9yqMETu1cHKQkHxiF3JYXzr386Pyxsb8joSdePlcCNScancG3l58nDHSUoFcQOJ3PBW_491v1Pey0l8pXNrV6LXDDqYP6th71KD517XdJrzHxvMmlmZM/s2048/190210_project-life-3d291d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN3fWgYcqw0Rb8pbnVU1ZXoOZ9yqMETu1cHKQkHxiF3JYXzr386Pyxsb8joSdePlcCNScancG3l58nDHSUoFcQOJ3PBW_491v1Pey0l8pXNrV6LXDDqYP6th71KD517XdJrzHxvMmlmZM/w640-h640/190210_project-life-3d291d.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7ayfHe33SkIRn4ppRa-hrI_HQmtOxjHaRPYsQh1rdJY2XR41OFxBKoRTqS0RLPNQUue_6vq-3WjnzWnJqDbj1Pdl-bdOEZfnCz8zeoQZETS9zGX-S5KfUdtggk-KJLpXMEk4rf-M_1c/s2048/190213_project-life-933a3f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7ayfHe33SkIRn4ppRa-hrI_HQmtOxjHaRPYsQh1rdJY2XR41OFxBKoRTqS0RLPNQUue_6vq-3WjnzWnJqDbj1Pdl-bdOEZfnCz8zeoQZETS9zGX-S5KfUdtggk-KJLpXMEk4rf-M_1c/w640-h640/190213_project-life-933a3f.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-9682015143318330512019-02-11T10:35:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:39:11.213-07:00Project Life, Week 6 of 2019Snow, snow, more snow, orthodontics, random fevers, a secret gift for someone, Top Gun team challenge, and Hannah seeing snow!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9aSZaV5Qoh2CY-qIWHfNhTK1zpyYczNsDSOXlbngC9nCuysAP9JrlaIEHteaH1X_Ebv2nz8KXzORXhGpDvnyrmCRGEKB5c9c316Ea67qm_huxOmmH8ZgHlwM47eADhH4ru5tDetXA-k/s2048/190203_project-life-1185f2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9aSZaV5Qoh2CY-qIWHfNhTK1zpyYczNsDSOXlbngC9nCuysAP9JrlaIEHteaH1X_Ebv2nz8KXzORXhGpDvnyrmCRGEKB5c9c316Ea67qm_huxOmmH8ZgHlwM47eADhH4ru5tDetXA-k/w640-h640/190203_project-life-1185f2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bAUszXf13UkpbC8wDRSqhB_GXTolN-O6UYgn5zWKmSldxFsajQiN7_AvA__JLpytbe4o0Kn5OLUIY92IDgll8yoGmIo3P0lmc0w3vbNjHN6uDsi72Cv1PIrhUs86tZ8fcwZ8GxHHWpg/s2048/190206_project-life-8f688d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bAUszXf13UkpbC8wDRSqhB_GXTolN-O6UYgn5zWKmSldxFsajQiN7_AvA__JLpytbe4o0Kn5OLUIY92IDgll8yoGmIo3P0lmc0w3vbNjHN6uDsi72Cv1PIrhUs86tZ8fcwZ8GxHHWpg/w640-h640/190206_project-life-8f688d.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-36038859768962991752019-02-04T14:04:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:20:02.964-07:00Snow day memoriesSome day, I'll get around to finishing the story of our epic 3 week long road trip from 6 months ago... But today, we have snow. And no school. And neighborhood kids building igloos in the front yard. And hot chocolate. And sleds and shovels and a rack in front of the fireplace that's literally dripping with hats and gloves and snow pants.<br/><br/>I like the snow, in case you can't tell.<br/><br/>Actually, I love the snow. Like L O V E the snow.<br/><br/>It used to be, that when snow was predicted, I would glue myself to the tv, watching all 3 or 4 channels of local news, morning and evening. (This is significant because I am not a news-watcher. I actually hate the news.) Now that the way we watch tv has turned into something completely different, and we don't even subscribe to any channels, I'm glued to my weather app (or apps, actually), watching, days in advance to see if that snowflake still stays on that day. What % chance is it? How much accumulation? Is there an advisory? A warning?<br/><br/>I'm going to stop here for a second and explain a few things about this crazy, vigilant, obsessive behavior I've just described. 1. I live in western Washington. 2. Snow here is infrequent. Maybe once or twice a year. 3. When snow is predicted, it doesn't mean it's actually going to snow. Our mild, coastal weather patterns mean that, even when it does snow, the temperature is usually hovering somewhere between 32-37 degrees. Usually, when it's actually cold enough to snow, it's because there is no cloud cover keeping things temperate. So having clouds, with moisture, and temps low enough for that moisture to be snow requires a very magical combination that doesn't often happen. And even when it does, as soon as it does snow, it generally starts melting almost immediately, resulting in a very disappointing wet, sloppy slush situation that can really crush a kid's soul.<br/><br/>Anyway. So everything that needed to happen last night, happened. The prediction was for about 1 inch of accumulation. This morning at around 8, I measured 7 inches on my garbage can.<br/><br/>The call that school was closed came at 5:02am.<br/><br/>Since I work at the school, I was just as excited as the kids about this news.<br/><br/>There is something about snow that makes me feel very nostalgic. Most of my favorite childhood memories are set in the snow. Snowball fights with neighborhood kids in my front yard, using the lids from those old, metal trash cans as shields. Sledding for hours and hours on our hill. How kids we didn't even know lived there would just show up and everyone played like we were best friends. The time our across-the-street neighbor got his station wagon stuck at the bottom of the hill and a tow truck came to tow it out, and my friend's little brother went sledding down the hill, right under the tow truck, miraculously not hurting himself, but tore open the back of his green snow pants. He had to walk back up the hill, dragging his sled, crying, while we all laughed about the stuffing that was flying out of the rips in his pants. (Yes, that's cruel. I know. But we were young and stupid and had no idea that what he had just done was dangerous, not just stupid, and he was someone's annoying little brother. Stop judging. It was the 80s.)<br/><br/>My most vivid snow day memories, however, center around my parents. Mostly my mom. This is not to discount the time my dad laid down on our old wooden metal runner sled and I laid down on his back and we slid down our hill, continued down the hill in the neighborhood below, took a left at the bottom and continued around the corner and UP the incline on that street about 5 or 6 houses before we finally stopped. It was epic, and I'm pretty sure we set a world record, were there anyone there to document that sort of thing. Also, it was a very long walk back to the top of our hill.<br/><br/>But my mom loved snow more than anyone I knew. She would wake me up in the middle of the night if it started snowing after I'd gone to bed. We would sit in the dark in the living room and watch the snow fall outside. She taught me the fine art of making snow angels, AND getting up out of them without messing them up. She taught me that, although daytime snow was great, night snow was the best thing ever. Something about being out after dark, in the snow, under the streetlights, with nobody else around. It's amazing.<br/><br/>One night, in particular, stands out in my memory with such vividness, it could have happened yesterday, although it was easily 34 or 35 years ago. We went sledding. At night. Just my mom and I. And it was her idea. All that is significant enough, but the one thing that made this event especially memorable was the fact that we went sledding on the OTHER hill. My house was at the top of this hill. Smack dab in the middle. The one hill ("the big hill") was the one we used for sledding. It was steeper, longer, and ended continuing into a neighborhood. The other hill was also of decent size, but it ended by intersecting with a rather busy road. Nobody went sledding there, for obvious reasons. I have no idea why she chose that hill. Maybe the snow was better, having not had a million kids using it all day. The traffic issue was non-existent since it was late and the road conditions were obviously terrible. We slid over and over again down that hill. It's one of the happiest memories I have.<br/><br/>Of course, there are no pictures of this event. No videos, no Facebook posts or Instagram stories. She and I were the only ones with this memory. And now it's only me.<br/><br/>And thus, I write it. I put it here to share with you. I don't know if it matters if anyone else knows about this. Probably not.<br/><br/>I wonder what memories my kids will have of snow days. Probably the friends and the igloos and the snowmen. Maybe Shane using the lawn mower to pull Layla and Micah around on a sled. Maybe Micah trying to get the dog to pull his saucer sled, although I'm pretty sure that actually happened in the summer.<br/><br/>This lengthy retrospective indulgence has alerted me to one major issue of neglect on my part. My children have yet to experience night snow.<br/><br/>That must be remedied.rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-66749020626296281682019-02-04T10:30:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:41:00.436-07:00Project Life, Week 5 of 2019Swimmimg, sunrise, traffic, Marimba, and living room tenting on a 3 day weekend. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqS4LIc-FHD-MWzqdBUckwaWG6sVIFRRvliKVvAXfFfUb2qiTE-iUfTm8lGQTwAubwidtRw5WRyPYKLH3HyWY66b6wo7YlnD50y5qkpRgynwqRsPesD8lNBjRIv_tbT4rTpBfDpjxys9A/s2048/190127_project-life-7c1fa2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqS4LIc-FHD-MWzqdBUckwaWG6sVIFRRvliKVvAXfFfUb2qiTE-iUfTm8lGQTwAubwidtRw5WRyPYKLH3HyWY66b6wo7YlnD50y5qkpRgynwqRsPesD8lNBjRIv_tbT4rTpBfDpjxys9A/w640-h640/190127_project-life-7c1fa2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlxrJgYs29xjtBCMHyUestm22qTJnTETih_fXE3u0G1Go311sfqwa1oHgMvHOe914MdkaJSmbsqfvXpIb2VAcAmBeLMDpDrebE6oW6PR29ZSZax0WgMwTBYCgCAn16Zqaho-VltCgMF-o/s2048/190201_project-life-d751d3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlxrJgYs29xjtBCMHyUestm22qTJnTETih_fXE3u0G1Go311sfqwa1oHgMvHOe914MdkaJSmbsqfvXpIb2VAcAmBeLMDpDrebE6oW6PR29ZSZax0WgMwTBYCgCAn16Zqaho-VltCgMF-o/w640-h640/190201_project-life-d751d3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-4719718677660037932019-01-28T10:25:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:42:22.953-07:00Project Life, Week 4 of 2019Crossover, troop meeting, more swimming, ball-winding, high school band, and Freedom Invitational.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdHNhgAj6HcKIx4smVe7zN7xXuzNc11bssBfE81BtUCt-nfRrXRO0wvD3Cx6F5VWFGoW4TbtuOUUm99anvJNPxJ81WbPu5p7E3O226Xjk6DcnaEjRAYjZIOGJAbP9fN1Qr9VdpcE7XVk/s2048/190121_project-life-15c62b-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdHNhgAj6HcKIx4smVe7zN7xXuzNc11bssBfE81BtUCt-nfRrXRO0wvD3Cx6F5VWFGoW4TbtuOUUm99anvJNPxJ81WbPu5p7E3O226Xjk6DcnaEjRAYjZIOGJAbP9fN1Qr9VdpcE7XVk/w640-h640/190121_project-life-15c62b-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3wB7L84xjIG4yoBGcuL0yNK2FyzD7JG_zt3cZki4ODcXlQOCB31LGXwAZnwZriNZMkFJ6hODBH5ByeZNX9TOZ_j-kCME6vK-0oLiUzdokFJM36KjqvrdIufJj1U2y_estyZ15mjMhBE/s2048/190126_project-life-f455b1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3wB7L84xjIG4yoBGcuL0yNK2FyzD7JG_zt3cZki4ODcXlQOCB31LGXwAZnwZriNZMkFJ6hODBH5ByeZNX9TOZ_j-kCME6vK-0oLiUzdokFJM36KjqvrdIufJj1U2y_estyZ15mjMhBE/w640-h640/190126_project-life-f455b1-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-28462325810170315122019-01-21T10:15:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:43:40.285-07:00Project Life, Week 3 of 2019Disk golf, honor band, Battle in Bellevue, and getting ready for crossover. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAw5G0ZovY_SReJ3kN2n-bUKFePL_5jynxak5Ox0KA5kdBkcPRdamNSAlSeKv_CTG9VZByg3EuRrMjdQ2Z7t03n8yzhDomx2GTULi6vpJvRcPhfHuJ-yevV80JkWzz5PtiEX7FOea1jNs/s2048/190112_project-life-8cbff9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAw5G0ZovY_SReJ3kN2n-bUKFePL_5jynxak5Ox0KA5kdBkcPRdamNSAlSeKv_CTG9VZByg3EuRrMjdQ2Z7t03n8yzhDomx2GTULi6vpJvRcPhfHuJ-yevV80JkWzz5PtiEX7FOea1jNs/w640-h640/190112_project-life-8cbff9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyqY58i7L2Cu-o_t4RwFNAHNU9nnqJ3KbZsYSwxJ4yuBdPdX6HJVnlZoQ7aHyWhT-5MBLnbyQ0UKQ8mXLdaCc1SZDXidmxRFYh-pTUfsgT5BKN-GKDCAi3wtjOPDCV3OzP0uYQfNoKaw/s2048/190116_project-life-19dadb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyqY58i7L2Cu-o_t4RwFNAHNU9nnqJ3KbZsYSwxJ4yuBdPdX6HJVnlZoQ7aHyWhT-5MBLnbyQ0UKQ8mXLdaCc1SZDXidmxRFYh-pTUfsgT5BKN-GKDCAi3wtjOPDCV3OzP0uYQfNoKaw/w640-h640/190116_project-life-19dadb.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-66563156606394449482019-01-14T09:15:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:45:05.251-07:00Project Life, Week 2 of 2019Back to swimming lessons, haircuts, and Christmas tree removal highlight week 2.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij8RnvsGnDD31vTNnqURkLD7Xg1yLeTLsmXmm1qhUyUpOkJjLJlC22K9XV2l0TFX-OfpYqvKYXFFyHx9kgz4HCc6r3t3v-zdUbqRhHhVU5GNR10PDUGjdzksuG6-hXEJvU0E5ozVA5abE/s2048/190105_project-life-257b29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij8RnvsGnDD31vTNnqURkLD7Xg1yLeTLsmXmm1qhUyUpOkJjLJlC22K9XV2l0TFX-OfpYqvKYXFFyHx9kgz4HCc6r3t3v-zdUbqRhHhVU5GNR10PDUGjdzksuG6-hXEJvU0E5ozVA5abE/w640-h640/190105_project-life-257b29.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoxRehhRh0coW4Le7U75aZIxjv6v2jSmZ8SroTWI7BuA18kN5uU0bEYYwsA4ow_vdwAul0KdGeRpGge_k-HjINQ_5UVJwKOmHrFtPptXq3gq-3kIJnP-EDaLfGDFgUQn-N5GmE6uYJUQ/s2048/190110_project-life-537fc7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoxRehhRh0coW4Le7U75aZIxjv6v2jSmZ8SroTWI7BuA18kN5uU0bEYYwsA4ow_vdwAul0KdGeRpGge_k-HjINQ_5UVJwKOmHrFtPptXq3gq-3kIJnP-EDaLfGDFgUQn-N5GmE6uYJUQ/w640-h640/190110_project-life-537fc7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-69582787250837342332019-01-07T09:45:00.000-08:002020-10-11T17:47:15.609-07:00Project Life, Week 1 of 2019The first week of the year is done! We traveled home from CA on Wednesday. It was awesome to still have 4 days left of break to get our wits about us before heading back to school. I decided to use the time to do a huge batch of freezer meals.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4sLq3p5Z6G856Pgr8z5LPLoZ48330KyC2_eh8XzvgMiDDQb_cswNE-NAlPqKTxFFyxsqek9j6IXwGL7GKLZFyQZJjLAcPpd1aIgJ7QlP2SPalyxkSc6sxJSa88fJNVCr3_MexEEi7r8/s2048/181215_project-life-cf66e7-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4sLq3p5Z6G856Pgr8z5LPLoZ48330KyC2_eh8XzvgMiDDQb_cswNE-NAlPqKTxFFyxsqek9j6IXwGL7GKLZFyQZJjLAcPpd1aIgJ7QlP2SPalyxkSc6sxJSa88fJNVCr3_MexEEi7r8/w640-h640/181215_project-life-cf66e7-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rkaJqZtpToFmRMK5DEyjAYNM8akU4ZoCWlDWIc8SIcy1fYiIB9OPKIdBPuEP4Bqvm9xmZJowLUXu-ssV-GWR9DcT7OsC7JmtcMgvywBmbSv70RSBwGunuIK6fyfcHyY8N3VKUMdjK90/s2048/181216_project-life-c229c5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rkaJqZtpToFmRMK5DEyjAYNM8akU4ZoCWlDWIc8SIcy1fYiIB9OPKIdBPuEP4Bqvm9xmZJowLUXu-ssV-GWR9DcT7OsC7JmtcMgvywBmbSv70RSBwGunuIK6fyfcHyY8N3VKUMdjK90/w640-h640/181216_project-life-c229c5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I am absolutely loving the Cinnamon Edition. I've been eyeing this one for awhile.</span></div><br />rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144988263846621555.post-38096745523420017272018-07-16T11:37:00.000-07:002020-10-11T19:35:15.412-07:00Road Trip Day 15We managed to escape further storms overnight, but stuff was still very wet: beds, towels, bathing suits from swimming in Nashville on Friday.... we needed to dry out and the weather wasn't cooperating. We all woke up grumpy on Sunday morning. Things didn't improve when Layla and I went to take showers. The shower heads just sprayed everywhere. There was no way to turn them on or adjust them at all without getting totally soaked. And so my pajamas and my Birkenstocks were drenched before I even got in. I also had to stand the entire time on my tip toes to keep from getting fully sprayed in the face the whole time. It did not improve my mood.We did, however, get torn down and loaded up earlier than planned!! We wanted to leave by 9, since we were going to church in the city at 10, and knew we would have to find street parking that would accommodate our van and trailer. We pulled out at 8:45. A true miracle. We drove in and immediately found parking. We were ready at 9:05. And then we discovered that church didn't actually start until 10:15. So we decided to walk around a little and see some of the cool buildings and other old churches in the neighborhood.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0voN33UT1UJdL6IWg74brPKxEmAAY6sBPqj6FeNIwK-tEUVdYR5V2-o0bmEGDNU5gGhgLNJ4VVSNhPmJQcJzSzQ98hSyuUGi8yDuPEBAcp70zCtlqAnlB5HqtadRW8CQ3bvgsEhLZ9Xo/s2048/img_7733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0voN33UT1UJdL6IWg74brPKxEmAAY6sBPqj6FeNIwK-tEUVdYR5V2-o0bmEGDNU5gGhgLNJ4VVSNhPmJQcJzSzQ98hSyuUGi8yDuPEBAcp70zCtlqAnlB5HqtadRW8CQ3bvgsEhLZ9Xo/w640-h480/img_7733.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Cb6KYqteh_-Wyn1N8KlrnzR0Rogd2c75w-8Nw4pDzTQisLTB0v-ZQ7REOicZoO8vluk8Vv1L5a2WjC2h-zDJrjXvrLOCFrmRJ9j0vxeRZHNoQGrfwcUbOgcsBiCx6Ru57C3Vh_vkQVg/s2048/img_7732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Cb6KYqteh_-Wyn1N8KlrnzR0Rogd2c75w-8Nw4pDzTQisLTB0v-ZQ7REOicZoO8vluk8Vv1L5a2WjC2h-zDJrjXvrLOCFrmRJ9j0vxeRZHNoQGrfwcUbOgcsBiCx6Ru57C3Vh_vkQVg/w480-h640/img_7732.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAwiSYQ71wexa8YzhKgKEl4RM4m0521oYSbdOQ6EL1wq3y28Jt8YGyepLn8JQgbgbbR51m9A7LYor7K1cbBzMplWZ1leehqmUlrg0Cv2qUT-aDIFu0I_nvqzm5GxEiVV_C_5kRThyIKY/s2048/img_7731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAwiSYQ71wexa8YzhKgKEl4RM4m0521oYSbdOQ6EL1wq3y28Jt8YGyepLn8JQgbgbbR51m9A7LYor7K1cbBzMplWZ1leehqmUlrg0Cv2qUT-aDIFu0I_nvqzm5GxEiVV_C_5kRThyIKY/w480-h640/img_7731.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZgj0haac5C2Sya3GPQCUKEG1V2b7X829uaNyV82YUmtuly4RQtXjFzNaAn3VSC7HEL0bJ6f_6YBRNaBE7NrMaFatc-sbae3zCuOAq3Y8-86gXkEWuti7kr79RgYkAOiWRtkHKs_IEIs/s2048/img_7729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZgj0haac5C2Sya3GPQCUKEG1V2b7X829uaNyV82YUmtuly4RQtXjFzNaAn3VSC7HEL0bJ6f_6YBRNaBE7NrMaFatc-sbae3zCuOAq3Y8-86gXkEWuti7kr79RgYkAOiWRtkHKs_IEIs/w480-h640/img_7729.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />When we finally went to church, it was awesome. We had done a little research before the trip. Since we were going to be finding ourselves in St. Louis on a Sunday, I wanted to find a super old, super traditional Lutheran church to attend. This one, Historic Trinity Lutheran Church in Soulard, fit the bill. A bonus was the massive pipe organ. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF-EV7f5SFlpJz2RRkgFu6mTzIOIYNCvirxAKcW7CWs5nUuobhamCo9kuFSLndiOzCyW1wBB_ZTOu0KvhRb6dl2OZNLkIRzn9inxDeBv1YxQ6M2WAFkDTkrpB0CiRvth4YPXPXyAVcJCM/s2048/img_7735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF-EV7f5SFlpJz2RRkgFu6mTzIOIYNCvirxAKcW7CWs5nUuobhamCo9kuFSLndiOzCyW1wBB_ZTOu0KvhRb6dl2OZNLkIRzn9inxDeBv1YxQ6M2WAFkDTkrpB0CiRvth4YPXPXyAVcJCM/w480-h640/img_7735.jpg" width="480" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RWddzfU8OvwKiNxXUueqpAJVI1rQJxmKIhiNhBGzzjzl55t7DzhyphenhyphenqgCmxRjbgKTBtRB0OXTN-qS8_bGW9EkFfIArsqdlHDoEZR_nNCbYBaS_JnNm1Jl6Ptp4mPGcTm4O_PM9fy-_r4U/s2048/img_7736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RWddzfU8OvwKiNxXUueqpAJVI1rQJxmKIhiNhBGzzjzl55t7DzhyphenhyphenqgCmxRjbgKTBtRB0OXTN-qS8_bGW9EkFfIArsqdlHDoEZR_nNCbYBaS_JnNm1Jl6Ptp4mPGcTm4O_PM9fy-_r4U/w480-h640/img_7736.jpg" width="480" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDtTdILLPJ6GnOuLv-tlOgQUgCYt0q4mmJQffne0Qi5erVcxfU-_mzGP8YTQzCk7njhF1wyvFHuAExflYhY5SAw9bX7R5nEN-nbHHiBEZq00tL4P9yoacUWrajvUBph0CrSHAJKTYpRI/s2048/img_7737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDtTdILLPJ6GnOuLv-tlOgQUgCYt0q4mmJQffne0Qi5erVcxfU-_mzGP8YTQzCk7njhF1wyvFHuAExflYhY5SAw9bX7R5nEN-nbHHiBEZq00tL4P9yoacUWrajvUBph0CrSHAJKTYpRI/w480-h640/img_7737.jpg" width="480" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQF-QwgEaokdKNIbCBzBjqujQxoP1Dv9RfOHomeUKmD-we307NRK9j0Hx6vuHxpSQgaBQoe8PsXpyKXT8eZvcgFV6QDOt4kerMYaB0GKSi2BaLlRcCVIsi-fTepiUpl_c5CCGwVKV4DqE/s1656/img_20180715_094917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="1656" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQF-QwgEaokdKNIbCBzBjqujQxoP1Dv9RfOHomeUKmD-we307NRK9j0Hx6vuHxpSQgaBQoe8PsXpyKXT8eZvcgFV6QDOt4kerMYaB0GKSi2BaLlRcCVIsi-fTepiUpl_c5CCGwVKV4DqE/w640-h480/img_20180715_094917.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQh06j_rg35wNHjWwO9xZyzd5Jwk7sMfgLOlryJew0-dcH2sAuNP3-C-t61mGddZfqJ-NixdaH9m7_KTO7E5jh1gIHoanCyJtreNFVHK_pQJxa9sV5C5sgESYdTmZ1VG56Gfsx-OhoDM/s1656/img_20180715_094903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQh06j_rg35wNHjWwO9xZyzd5Jwk7sMfgLOlryJew0-dcH2sAuNP3-C-t61mGddZfqJ-NixdaH9m7_KTO7E5jh1gIHoanCyJtreNFVHK_pQJxa9sV5C5sgESYdTmZ1VG56Gfsx-OhoDM/w480-h640/img_20180715_094903.jpg" width="480" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4zoyAigpaye1Xn6ZjRKqOeF51O6cmtMeR9xW8ysUxGtgQxjsCbMaNw27OhcymEnHwvktI6x362ye61kj3lK-4sum0CcawoulDpOK98DdQmuKyiYPsQUMoGzLitdNscYVoWTuFE113wk/s1656/img_20180715_094905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4zoyAigpaye1Xn6ZjRKqOeF51O6cmtMeR9xW8ysUxGtgQxjsCbMaNw27OhcymEnHwvktI6x362ye61kj3lK-4sum0CcawoulDpOK98DdQmuKyiYPsQUMoGzLitdNscYVoWTuFE113wk/w480-h640/img_20180715_094905.jpg" width="480" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TOWk1-j_zLQjCTamHbtMAmC3-WPbB-R56ixyOsvR4B-KtI0Al4B3sDa4WVJRCRjT6gDUQI2b52Cxk9nOFIZ7uFNmzASitthbspfCV4LnSGRimdA7_5s2mUyVxW_Ke20rhkMoVegSlzw/s1656/img_20180715_094909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TOWk1-j_zLQjCTamHbtMAmC3-WPbB-R56ixyOsvR4B-KtI0Al4B3sDa4WVJRCRjT6gDUQI2b52Cxk9nOFIZ7uFNmzASitthbspfCV4LnSGRimdA7_5s2mUyVxW_Ke20rhkMoVegSlzw/w480-h640/img_20180715_094909.jpg" width="480" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6dc3SI4N_VevjJi07SkTPk4NAloe5W6q27bKD1XYOA_nH-back-UyX5gJg-zHNxkGZl0w5O_mkGCUybpOkz9p3QieLJB8H9a5ZSR_rlcMe9TP8gdZU1nRAUSqvf4IDy1T4SFCsh7AOk/s1656/img_20180715_094913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6dc3SI4N_VevjJi07SkTPk4NAloe5W6q27bKD1XYOA_nH-back-UyX5gJg-zHNxkGZl0w5O_mkGCUybpOkz9p3QieLJB8H9a5ZSR_rlcMe9TP8gdZU1nRAUSqvf4IDy1T4SFCsh7AOk/w480-h640/img_20180715_094913.jpg" width="480" /></a></div></div><br />Everyone was very friendly, and worshiping there was a great way to re-start our day. Our after-church, pre-departure plan was to visit Grant's Farm to see the Clydesdales. It was stiflingly hot, but we had a good time. You have to pay for parking, but otherwise it's free. It is a large piece of land that, at one time, belonged to President Ulysses S. Grant, but now belongs to the Busch family (of Anheuser-Busch) and is used as a zoo/farm/sanctuary for many animals, including several of the famous Budweiser Clydesdales. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiblEE5YNZlZ2pLiKjPixx7dZssuwF1hdgptEFpHXO4NwbVm88gJDFYfrGS_ihs23LLzzfhhjJKjbL8AWaBAiXcfourqvZgfIgoHTWVAp0Nn4aJ4FGSs-j5hTvVteAHADZWMhUKkc3mf_M/s1656/img_20180715_125531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiblEE5YNZlZ2pLiKjPixx7dZssuwF1hdgptEFpHXO4NwbVm88gJDFYfrGS_ihs23LLzzfhhjJKjbL8AWaBAiXcfourqvZgfIgoHTWVAp0Nn4aJ4FGSs-j5hTvVteAHADZWMhUKkc3mf_M/w480-h640/img_20180715_125531.jpg" width="480" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZpou42eJe_05aj7q4-ho0DMLsRDPGtWsOzFRfaYNvg4HitVPiQxikCj9irQxbsF30b9UHEYcrkckxC8AL2nc0g2kxneOjgEhX47QdJzsbIeDpYjfoganCvkGBetLwfa3CH9W2OuRDmU/s1656/img_20180715_125555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZpou42eJe_05aj7q4-ho0DMLsRDPGtWsOzFRfaYNvg4HitVPiQxikCj9irQxbsF30b9UHEYcrkckxC8AL2nc0g2kxneOjgEhX47QdJzsbIeDpYjfoganCvkGBetLwfa3CH9W2OuRDmU/w480-h640/img_20180715_125555.jpg" width="480" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwwAFiCbmNKITA6z6rPxVLwuZHNaZSnkN3NnEodxbsE_e3U83wZSEWlHDhiaCiBzugqNTbWN5HIrQ1zUeAaG5UnrdmF5Usa9e7PSdEyZ654O4hQvPNUXtO0tQeyZXISED3GDQIwVESF0/s1656/img_20180715_125617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwwAFiCbmNKITA6z6rPxVLwuZHNaZSnkN3NnEodxbsE_e3U83wZSEWlHDhiaCiBzugqNTbWN5HIrQ1zUeAaG5UnrdmF5Usa9e7PSdEyZ654O4hQvPNUXtO0tQeyZXISED3GDQIwVESF0/w480-h640/img_20180715_125617.jpg" width="480" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pRdhgeOLvL2YKeA6lA3qAHl3k4OICrdVQ0oOT66lb_KLhI8oF-XhSq8JtvtEy2gcOCKZaivTh8FqrvlAiCrbLc2DDrj-tySqSlxj63xTza4jWIylD0KLBnxM3qsRR0zkZXqlYKoGYHc/s1656/img_20180715_135511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pRdhgeOLvL2YKeA6lA3qAHl3k4OICrdVQ0oOT66lb_KLhI8oF-XhSq8JtvtEy2gcOCKZaivTh8FqrvlAiCrbLc2DDrj-tySqSlxj63xTza4jWIylD0KLBnxM3qsRR0zkZXqlYKoGYHc/w480-h640/img_20180715_135511.jpg" width="480" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mYexppeU7zjV4uWP-PCPaf01hffJOYXRyoyzDvzs7DF6_A6QmT4qDkowbCVGCT89r1u9K9Hwyx6anhRu0EyC-_fuQWT7D-YnjOFm9lJuhsvXdGczj-8vw3BG4bb3N5zjhCe-eoV0iGQ/s1656/img_20180715_135523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mYexppeU7zjV4uWP-PCPaf01hffJOYXRyoyzDvzs7DF6_A6QmT4qDkowbCVGCT89r1u9K9Hwyx6anhRu0EyC-_fuQWT7D-YnjOFm9lJuhsvXdGczj-8vw3BG4bb3N5zjhCe-eoV0iGQ/w480-h640/img_20180715_135523.jpg" width="480" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br />We had some snow cones to cool down and wandered the gift shop before hitting the road. From there we drove to Kansas City where we set up camp and discovered the door of the refrigerator in the trailer had popped open at some point during the day and all of our food was warmish. So after sending most of our food to the dumpster, Dave left to go get some new groceries and pick up some BBQ for dinner, the kids went to the pool, and I hit the laundry facilities. By the time we went to bed, we had washed 8 loads of clothes, towels, bedding, bathing suits, and Dave's sweaty cycling stuff. We filled the washers and dryers, plus hung stuff outside and inside the trailer to dry.<div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2-cEudt5WQGnnGNhysaU88PxGsrVz5tNMZRoEivw34bDSAStk1a9aLVkKImn8quyQ8609CW3Hj3rxiT5-wW3p8n0j2vW4isZ_PzK9v5zEugeYWqHv-oZzn2y0SnIOfRam0QBriHrpRAY/s2048/img_7757.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2-cEudt5WQGnnGNhysaU88PxGsrVz5tNMZRoEivw34bDSAStk1a9aLVkKImn8quyQ8609CW3Hj3rxiT5-wW3p8n0j2vW4isZ_PzK9v5zEugeYWqHv-oZzn2y0SnIOfRam0QBriHrpRAY/w640-h360/img_7757.jpg" width="640" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuT9T8ETWQmJsnov1kiPIRFbuMuuE5h3JrKBlF_O-oChF4S5eLhN2JTtsGeI0SanffM59USjlqglFxS_W6DMC5DBJowLth3on4NOW9NuA_QwxyR1WgKXhJnUQ6xOMAcwXEipAB73ACzE/s2048/img_7761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuT9T8ETWQmJsnov1kiPIRFbuMuuE5h3JrKBlF_O-oChF4S5eLhN2JTtsGeI0SanffM59USjlqglFxS_W6DMC5DBJowLth3on4NOW9NuA_QwxyR1WgKXhJnUQ6xOMAcwXEipAB73ACzE/w640-h480/img_7761.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><br />So happy to have ALL the clothes clean and the towels all dry and no nasty bathing suits. Also, dry beds! License plate stats: still looking for Delaware and Hawaii; 6 provinces.States visited: 16.</div>rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04541128243401822616noreply@blogger.com0