tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16116788662219860522024-02-18T21:34:35.401-05:00Abbie's AngelsMoments in the life of a gal who is a mom, wife and grandmother all the while feeling like a 20 year old! Discovering the mid 40's is the perfect stage to live my life to the fullest and finding myself all over again.Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.comBlogger150125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-71253668506525948192012-11-06T14:38:00.002-05:002012-11-06T14:38:59.903-05:00My Right<span style="font-size: large;">Today is an important day</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It is November 6, 2012.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Election Day</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As much as I have been bombarded with </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">all the commercials</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">the debates</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">the mail from the candidates to vote for them</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Radio annoucements</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Democrats</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Republicans</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Liberals</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Tea Party</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Swing States</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Early Voting</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Voter ID</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Facebook</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Twitter,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I still take great pleasure honor in walking into the voting booth and casting my ballot.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I feel empowered just waiting in line. I love the whole process:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">telling the polling people my name</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">having them look for it,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Signing on the dotted line,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and the the moment when I enter the booth.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I stand in there and absorb what I am about to do.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Many people prior to me have fought for this right, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Sacrificed,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Stood up to oppression,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Died</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">just so I can walk to my nearest polling place and vote.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When I am happy, I tend to sing or hum. When I vote, I tend to hum the Jeopardy theme song while I look at my choices. My little ditty. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I look at both sides and then start pushing the buttons to the people who I feel will do the best job.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I double check my work and then hit the final green button.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As much as I love to do this, it is over way to quickly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I take great honor knowing I did my part.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Whatever your affiliation, vote. I am glad I passed this feeling to Donna Marie.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My daughter has done me proud she received an Excellent Voter report Card. She has voted in every election since she was eligible to vote.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She beat me to the voting booths this year!</span> <br />
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<img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="215" data-width="234" height="215" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQWHdxeC2F-F2hfQgaP1PRGZNbtPm7qAyEjUEj7cbXQbpdFWQYM" style="height: 215px; width: 234px;" width="234" /><span style="font-size: large;">Proud American <span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Abbie</span></span><br />
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Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-31964820707329237982012-11-05T13:58:00.000-05:002012-11-05T13:58:22.147-05:00Pop Rocks Big Kid Style<span style="font-size: large;">Halloween</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Do you ever outgrow it?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Apparently that answer is no!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My grandkids were together for the first time. It was fantastic!</span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They were all dressed, had their bags in their hands, and their parents to guide them through the evening. I gave them their first candy to wish them a great success in getting their sweet treasures. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bill went out with them. He has always liked to go with them and do the walk. I, on the other hand, liked to stay home and give out candy. I also clean. It is my thing on this day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not many homes were giving out candy due to unfortunate circumstances. (Hurricane Sandy) They returned fairly quickly. They did recieve a nice amount of candy</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDl35DgO8HCfaTqRrRJoEUjqd9hBKmWd18MOrSIoNlLkWY4gfglfUNoEXxebUxG9DGfW2mstYmUhgm-8BCsvuINxddFMNMyU1Q_9zB2H2YjOaiZjpcikJCxoIVJUIHg42ZMn8T0cMlizU/s1600/PA310261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDl35DgO8HCfaTqRrRJoEUjqd9hBKmWd18MOrSIoNlLkWY4gfglfUNoEXxebUxG9DGfW2mstYmUhgm-8BCsvuINxddFMNMyU1Q_9zB2H2YjOaiZjpcikJCxoIVJUIHg42ZMn8T0cMlizU/s320/PA310261.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the kids were allowed to eat their candy, the sugar rush emerged. Their parents looted their stash and picked out their favorites. Naturally, they could only do that with the younger set. Older kids tend to be a little more guarded from scavengers.</span><br />
<img height="452" id="il_fi" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtG76E_ABRTGCDWBl7OWxXMHPyNiSI9TaUsLBl1jZ2PS6m_OH7JTv8cRwP3s9TTmvR3HZBnb2xyCKNu4FU10ttItPLV3F6mMYZMCPvYLay05dgBnAB79jLPWy7piTaeDXLgZGP9-hnz6U/s1600/Pop+Rocks.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="678" /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I had bought Pop Rocks and I forgot to put them in the container of candies to give out to the trick or treaters. My oldest saw them and grabbed one. She and her brother and their respective spouses decided to eat them with soda. Its seems they wanted to try an experiment with sweet and noisy confection.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Their reactions were priceless.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the middle of the zaniness, my little angel Josiah smiles.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My Josiah </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">my heart</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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<img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="211" data-width="239" height="211" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSPfZ0izmaWZ_9AMHNAwlXvmHRdxBD__H8sVcZLMey7kCFVmOQL4g" style="height: 211px; width: 239px;" width="239" /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Happy Halloween <span style="color: red;">Abbie</span></span></div>
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Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-89311470722148349122012-10-27T22:38:00.002-04:002012-10-27T22:38:52.545-04:00Preparing for Sandy<span style="font-size: large;">For the past few days, we have been preparing for this "Frankenstorm". Superstorm, Storm of the century. It has been all over the news. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hadn't taken it seriously a few days ago. It was a typical hurricane and was supposed to venture to the right when it makes it way north.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Apparently, it decided to hook up with another system and try a different route. Literally, straight for us. Lucky us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It seems and that every few years it has to rain and flood my basement. I am due for a flooding and guess who is going to help, Sandy. The only thing that makes this different than other years is there is a very good chance that we may lose power. If I lose power, the flooding will get worse. because my sump pump needs electricity. I can't imagine what 12 inches of rain can do. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am hoping for the best. I have stocked up on water, candles, and dry goods. This time around I will have extra company. My son and his family will ride out the storm with us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Hope everyone makes through this with minimum damage.</span><br />
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<img src="http://ts1.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4898432445579816&pid=1.7&w=216&h=152&c=7&rs=1" style="height: 152px;" /><span style="font-size: large;">Hurricane <span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Abbie</span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-72872808135762346472012-10-26T12:49:00.000-04:002012-10-26T12:49:14.672-04:00Lovin on my baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79yT2wLva-ZZRYt1XCcM7OOURH6HX_FQ7yMZhq5jSVUazt67XjJHbZ14VUzFeag5Jbju5J9uFy0K-0R_LqFx5q8mICyGfeWjo8d_3wpI2QSVnHIJPkobj76w9sWWh-LOSo3x9JTxmQ8s/s1600/P3171011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79yT2wLva-ZZRYt1XCcM7OOURH6HX_FQ7yMZhq5jSVUazt67XjJHbZ14VUzFeag5Jbju5J9uFy0K-0R_LqFx5q8mICyGfeWjo8d_3wpI2QSVnHIJPkobj76w9sWWh-LOSo3x9JTxmQ8s/s320/P3171011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">My baby boy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My shadow, when he was so small. He followed me everywhere.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The last of my original angels.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My stubborn, sweet, and charming son.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Creative</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIyZJJcSvXNPq_xs-dpgKpcCGW1BrxFVyhVde2UPN-vZD-1kcKxJpamPwNt-m1NbxZWHi1Yi1_ur-aBiBm-oMxxetgM5HmkUjnzQL99Mh3hUy7tZFYYo5HDpD1hwoooZXtIVGlSB1EaeI/s1600/P9110975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIyZJJcSvXNPq_xs-dpgKpcCGW1BrxFVyhVde2UPN-vZD-1kcKxJpamPwNt-m1NbxZWHi1Yi1_ur-aBiBm-oMxxetgM5HmkUjnzQL99Mh3hUy7tZFYYo5HDpD1hwoooZXtIVGlSB1EaeI/s320/P9110975.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Funny</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Sarcastic</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkFWzqVbEbnVDTJ1cxaI47vJtdSh8q-61wxJoe9wTDNOq1o-HRmym1HhUA99sY5rcPPJXR6gP4pU9_E9svwGLX5jtbNHPqjDIIv6gWaLP0VWubEkBPs17s_m7RT8S0kOyiv-U-BvpmWQ/s1600/PC240615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkFWzqVbEbnVDTJ1cxaI47vJtdSh8q-61wxJoe9wTDNOq1o-HRmym1HhUA99sY5rcPPJXR6gP4pU9_E9svwGLX5jtbNHPqjDIIv6gWaLP0VWubEkBPs17s_m7RT8S0kOyiv-U-BvpmWQ/s320/PC240615.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Loyal</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Where did the time go?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love him</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Abbie</span>, known by him as Mom</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-52242847834243720042012-10-25T12:40:00.003-04:002012-10-25T12:40:58.806-04:00October Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have new housemates. They are the cutest in my eyes. My son and his family have temporarily moved in and it is great to be greeted by these <em>Angels,</em> when I come home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> It was a beautiful day. Warm with a slight breeze and blue skies. I took advantage of it and took them in the back yard.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Liam walked around and Zoe loved the texture of the grass. Actually, Zoe loved to rip the grass out. I guess it is her way of helping Pappy with mowing the lawn. She noticed that it was also fun to rain grass on Liam's head.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Liam would laugh and Zoe would get some more grass. She was having such a good time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No they are not in the safari or wilderness, that is my backyard. In desperate need of a mowing and trimming! Who knew grass still grows in late October??</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love this picture of him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wonder what he is thinking? Its more like "I'm getting tired".</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We enjoyed our fall day. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="218" data-width="231" height="218" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSX8XkdjT6nZOTLej3raA0qmrTtyPtk72CPnjU49sCSNYvY3hd0Jw" style="height: 218px; width: 231px;" width="231" />Autumn</span> <span style="color: black;">Lovin'</span>Abbie</span></div>
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<br />Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-53499238983002802862012-10-24T12:07:00.003-04:002012-10-24T12:07:59.210-04:00Wordless Wednesday 10/24/12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Making Strides Against Breast Cancer</div>
Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-35707978539005096172012-10-24T11:55:00.001-04:002012-10-24T11:55:09.957-04:00Tale of Two MenWhere to begin? <br />
Its not that I don't have stories to tell but my life has had many turns and changes.<br />
My mind was on full alert and I had no time to just think about me over this past year. Sounds selfish. I know. <br />
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The bulk of my attention was aimed at the two men in my life. <br />
My Dad and my son.<br />
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My dad's health since his heart attack and triple by pass surgery had consumed my thoughts and my mind. The constant trips to the city. Talking to his doctors. Sorting out his medicines. Making sure he knew what his medicines were for and how to take them. I found out that he took his medicines when he thought to take them and not when he should. Going to specialists and preparing for the day he would need dialysis. Finding out his heart has been severely damaged. Fighting through his fears, fighting with my mom and her issues, trying to build a relationship with a brother. A brother I had met just a year ago and getting him to help me with our Dad and meeting his family. <br />
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On top of that...<br />
My son <br />
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We visited him for the last time in Colorado and then the repercussions that happened after we left. His wife is in the Air Force and her time was coming up when she would get out of the military. The isolation that he felt when we left, the despair. It came and hit him hard. He couldn't wait any longer to be free from the strict rules of military life.<br />
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Sean was in the military and when his time was up, he became a stay at home time dad. It was a little rough. His wife worked sometimes 12 to 14 hour days. They had only one car and he was stuck at home. He just reached the end of his rope.<br />
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Things are better now, he is in our home with his family. My son has family around and Sean is not feeling isolated. They are getting the time they need to rebuild the relationship they had prior to the kids. Sean and his wife are not drowning with all the craziest that comes with having a family so young and you are far from home. Sometimes you need a break and it helps when you have people you can trust around.<br />
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While trying to solve all the worlds problems, there has been the one who was by my side. Just waiting for me to reach out for help. My Rock. My love. The one constant. My husband Bill, who supported me through the nightmares and heartaches.<br />
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I have always taken things on and not ask for any help. I hate depending on someone when I can do it myself. Wonder where my son gets it from? ha ha<br />
I didn't like sharing this with Bill. But he needed to know where I was going especially when I left the state. It is only right. Sometimes I felt bad for giving him so much bad news. Too much for one person to handle. <br />
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During the crisis, my husband received news that his dearest sister's mother in law died suddenly. I can only imagine the struggle of who to be with and comfort. Stay with his wife or be with his loving sister. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. <br />
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He stayed with me until my dad was in better condition and the day before the funeral he was able to come back home and be with her. I hated to put him in that position. Bill is so loyal and to be divided with women he loves. Letting him go was tough, but he went with a clear conscience.<br />
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I wanted to be be so selfish. I am far from perfect. I wanted him to be with me. She has a huge family, a husband and a mom with her. Why did she need him too? Who did I have? My mom was angry with me and worried about my Dad. I have children who had their own families to tend to and I didn't want to burden them with my emotions. I have no siblings aside from the person who is my brother whom I just met. I was alone. But I had to be the bigger person. It super sucks but it made Bill feel better to go. I hid what I was screaming in my head - don't leave me alone. I sucked it up. It was only right and with a smile I let him go. <br />
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Throughout the turmoils,we have grown stronger and tighter. I would not deny him anything because he has proven himself over and over. Bill is a man that truly deserves every good thing in the world.<br />
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Eternally grateful AbbieAbbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-42556171599696094852012-10-22T14:12:00.001-04:002012-10-22T14:12:12.233-04:00Miss Olivia - Little Crabber<span style="font-size: large;">We had a family event, Bill's sister and her family have come up on a rare family visit. Rare because we haven't seen the whole family in over a decade. They may visit but it is usually one at a time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It was a combination of reunion and bridal shower for their eldest daughter. Caitlin is planning to get married next year and many won't see the family until the wedding but that will be in Florida. It is an opportunity to shower them with lots of love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After the bridal party games, the feast began. Plenty of food and time to catch up with family Bill hasn't seen in some time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Crabs were up for grabs and some of the nieces and nephews enjoy getting their hands dirty and eating the crustaceans. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Miss Olivia noticed the comotion at the table and wanted to be in on the action. She pull a chair and sat her butt down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Meaghan, Bill's niece and goddaughter, was teaching Miss Olivia how to eat a crab. She will be a wonderful teacher. Lots of patience. I love crab cake but to crack open a crab. I wont do that for myself. It takes too long and I get cranky to work that much for a little bit of crab meat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My father in law would sit and watch TV and his wife would do all the work and give him a nice pile of crab meat. That would irritate some of his daughters feeling that he should have done it himself. . I would smile because I would have done the same if I was his wife and as long as it isn't crab. She didn't mind and they shouldn't either but that is my opinion. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I make things for Bill that I don't like to eat. Why should he be deprived of something he enjoys just cause I don't like it. I won't cook crabs unless it is from the freezer. Mrs Paul's or Gordon's are old friends. I cant bring home a live animal and then kill it. I prefer my animal meat to be already killed before it touches my hands. ha ha Sorry PETA.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Miss Olivia did a very good job!</span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Miss Olivia was very attentive and listened to everything Meaghan was saying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> She couldn't wait to try it herself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Miss Olivia was not squeamish at all. She dug right in, washed her hands, and ate.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I wonder if she would make a pile of crab meat for me?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">No stinky hands for</span> <span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="font-size: large;">Abbie</span> </em></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-55401899495526593762012-03-07T14:52:00.001-05:002012-03-07T14:52:46.403-05:00Top Chef Contender<span style="font-size: large;">My husband has been on a cooking phase. Or should I say, he has found a passion in cooking. My days and nights have been full so when we do eat it is mostly take out or we got out to dinner. I think he missed home cooking so he went on the Internet and looked for easy recipes. He has made a few meals that are very tasty.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzj5cT3RfnqsNlQ7VTj5R7fx0W72MxhhqnY7FxsH8pyPy9WvnWWCMYZSjriB0DORhvusihmx6b52RSQLiLrNZyZlkW8_PAmtRnGx-yGumN3KzbqJ4tum2pawdHtGzYpEPxaJiXraS60Y/s1600/P2240930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzj5cT3RfnqsNlQ7VTj5R7fx0W72MxhhqnY7FxsH8pyPy9WvnWWCMYZSjriB0DORhvusihmx6b52RSQLiLrNZyZlkW8_PAmtRnGx-yGumN3KzbqJ4tum2pawdHtGzYpEPxaJiXraS60Y/s320/P2240930.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Bill has been making gumbo, savory chicken, and last night he made paella. He thought he made enough for two but the end result made it to feed 8. It was delicious. Paella requires more seafood but believe when I say there was more than enough in the pot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The evening was made more special, when we made the meal together. It was great being together. I had always wanted to do this but for one reason or another we never dd.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1qIqxjw0GH7HeJolSzRYJPWG6b6S-joaAcXGai03sQ5xQm_gV7cO43jDnjE4hyphenhyphenHUcuAO50Eq_mnXzV__Q-CsjqBqNfnEmJgsnxqRzeoM6LRiItYkhqFju5l_8vSgKjVwvZPGZXYKBeI/s1600/P2270949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1qIqxjw0GH7HeJolSzRYJPWG6b6S-joaAcXGai03sQ5xQm_gV7cO43jDnjE4hyphenhyphenHUcuAO50Eq_mnXzV__Q-CsjqBqNfnEmJgsnxqRzeoM6LRiItYkhqFju5l_8vSgKjVwvZPGZXYKBeI/s320/P2270949.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Dish is so hot it steamed my lens.</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have stated before I need a recipe with instructions, when I cook. I will read it line by line and follow the directions. My husband does not work that way. He reads it and does his own interpretation. I didn't want to ruin this moment so I just stepped back and didn't say a word. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I like baking it is more precise. Measurements, time, and order. I asked Bill if he wanted me to make dessert. He liked the idea of brownies. It had been awhile snce we haved had that treat. After the paella, I didn't even want to look at food. I waited for the food to slide down and make it. Bill helped me and he teased me when I told him to measure the water. He was eye balling it and I told him no mister I need a 1/4 cup. He teased me on being so OCD. He used another word but this is nicer. haha</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The brownie was a nice finishing touch. It was delicious.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Bill and I did the dishes together he mentioned that we should do this more often and do more things together. He made my heart skip a beat. After almost 25 years, he still wants to hang out with the old ball and chain.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am not dumb I need to keep this man under lock and key :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Prison Guard of Love <span style="color: #cc0000;">Abbie</span></span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-61038097557049354702012-03-01T21:00:00.000-05:002012-03-01T21:00:42.105-05:00Booked<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I am so excited! I just booked our flights to Colorado. I will get to see two of my angels. In a matter of weeks. Bill and I have missed these little darlings.</span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This picture was taking on Ash Wednesday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Zoe is such a doll and Liam looks like a little gangster. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Sean And S have been very good at keeping us up to date on their little adventures. Making us miss them even more. Videos are a wonderful thing for grandparents far away.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It has been a long time time I saw them. Last August, to be a little precise w</span><span style="font-size: large;">hen they looked liked this.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nsQkOOHNgEqGgFwFet2HT5_PUIoCIrkukfoEb9oDEAOi27E3rokbsNYTaSKXrstjE7Hc9t25LNDNg4y1V90UOpEQNtkx7A0MWpk5Qd7Mo7wpBG5E_4EvVlvYArQndv_T-UBBnxWVJJY/s1600/P9020212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nsQkOOHNgEqGgFwFet2HT5_PUIoCIrkukfoEb9oDEAOi27E3rokbsNYTaSKXrstjE7Hc9t25LNDNg4y1V90UOpEQNtkx7A0MWpk5Qd7Mo7wpBG5E_4EvVlvYArQndv_T-UBBnxWVJJY/s320/P9020212.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Why is it that it seems like forever until we will see them again and when we are with them the times seems to fly ?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Counting down the days until I can kiss them to pieces!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Calendar watching <span style="color: #cc0000;">Abbie</span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-11726440973749803862012-02-28T12:27:00.001-05:002012-02-28T12:27:23.656-05:00Into the Lion's Den<span style="font-size: large;">Bill and I went to NYC this past weekend. It went by really fast and in a way I'm glad it did. I checked in on my folks. I like to keep tabs since their health crisis. Mom is not happy with me. She hasn't been in quite awhile. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, that is not going to change anytime soon. As long as I continue a relationship with my brother, my father's son is how long my mother will be angry at me.
She believes that I am only coming to NYC to see him and not them. It was never an issue before until HE came into the picture. My mother knew about him since he was born but what gets her upset is that now that I am in the picture and I talk to him. In her eyes, I am betraying her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My mother has gone out to dinner with him and spent time with him but it makes her nuts if I do the same.
When I told her I was visiting, she right away said it was because I want to see him. First off that came out of nowhere and what???? I didn't even think about it but if I am going to do the time, might as well do the crime. I would call him later when I got to NY and ask him to go out to dinner.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When I got to the house, she barely kissed me hello and she went straight to work in her room. This is her way to punish me. To ignore or barely talk to me. I visited with my dad. He looked well. We stayed there for a couple of hours. Bill and I went out for a late lunch.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPteCkqcwWicXGY1e4q27ZqSvl5m9sZu50AzctjBMz968mahpLcuKcP5fmDtI_CcYhLJIglqQH2xfKLn-za7Kjh61ksWG_6wSY-4C4_KUYgA-QIDifJnixrEptzhHkjXiFDrjZvZWpW_Q/s1600/PC260728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPteCkqcwWicXGY1e4q27ZqSvl5m9sZu50AzctjBMz968mahpLcuKcP5fmDtI_CcYhLJIglqQH2xfKLn-za7Kjh61ksWG_6wSY-4C4_KUYgA-QIDifJnixrEptzhHkjXiFDrjZvZWpW_Q/s320/PC260728.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I took him to the Havana restaurant where I had the ropa viejo.
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was so good, I got it again and Bill got the drink special and this beautiful meal.
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was a pork shank with rice and beans. Bill loved both especially the drink.
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<span style="font-size: large;">Can you see why?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I tried the drink. It was like a mojito but without the lime. It was gross to me. Bill and I decided to go to bar. He felt bad and knew that I needed that drink. We crossed the street to a little pub. We had gone to O'Brien's the year before with his cousins.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzilETeuUTHwrXbv7Hx4f-pNJ77Lxy7DxxSsSWW-OvgYGLkyXNblhv3LHI9qZvYpz0VlvuwXhzE7EUV8YBXGcBd3P9q06TuhY2O6xVD95YZYecCj85H5dJpb_c46kemFraUSqWX2GVhM/s1600/P2250934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzilETeuUTHwrXbv7Hx4f-pNJ77Lxy7DxxSsSWW-OvgYGLkyXNblhv3LHI9qZvYpz0VlvuwXhzE7EUV8YBXGcBd3P9q06TuhY2O6xVD95YZYecCj85H5dJpb_c46kemFraUSqWX2GVhM/s320/P2250934.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We sat down an order a Cosmo for me and a jack and coke for him. I only needed one.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOTZixNG2oRkqvHZ69OkTEIJcrOOyZEuQGMkGpMdOIi5tBfYkxacO6m9ZoWJ6mHrLApXEtibrI-Un6mWbZZb-p_XH6FxtEQkhVj3LkvC7IEDzNY8YgvMKoi5zlZ0aKnSGGoD9COTucBw/s1600/P2250939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOTZixNG2oRkqvHZ69OkTEIJcrOOyZEuQGMkGpMdOIi5tBfYkxacO6m9ZoWJ6mHrLApXEtibrI-Un6mWbZZb-p_XH6FxtEQkhVj3LkvC7IEDzNY8YgvMKoi5zlZ0aKnSGGoD9COTucBw/s320/P2250939.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was delicious!! It made me happy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">With our tummies full, we walked around the city and decided to go back home. We didn't hear from any family that we reached out to so back to my mom's house we went.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Good thing, I had a full belly and a nice glass of liquid courage. Guess who was there sitting at the dinner table with my Dad? It was my brother. Guess who hid in her room all night? My mom. What could I do? My dad was happy. I was very happy that I did have that Cosmo. I had a split second to decide how to handle this. I bit the bullet. I greeted everybody and sat down and enjoyed the rest of the evening talking and drinking with the enemy of my mom, who seethed in her room.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She waited up for my father to go to his room. I felt bad for him. It was his turn to be scolded. I knew it was trouble when the door slowly closed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If you thought she was cool with me that day, she was worse the next morning. She barely acknowledge my existence. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Is it too early for that Cosmo? It is only 9:30 in the morning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-6428853025421726082012-02-24T10:55:00.001-05:002012-02-24T10:57:18.856-05:00I Make Fire!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The weather has been unusually mild this past winter. We enjoyed temperatures in the 60's. For February, in the Mid Atlantic that is a little too warm. The weather will be turning this weekend to more winter type temperatures. At least, it won't be frigid!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On an occasion when winter did make its appearance, I remembered to bring my camera on my walk with Lando. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It was snowing lightly and had snowed the night before covering my block with a glistening white coat. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmSsiMrAWAfKOwrdlUt7a5_PjP7vkQJOU7MBeObTfbScIZOx0avHFKl8n96h-iskn-eSKrVFtVHfYia1fO1IFLXqCIz3VQSZ2isy7Nz-XJhHnXUHysZrmqseLoWqU9F5kjHSYFJHeq80/s1600/P2110863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmSsiMrAWAfKOwrdlUt7a5_PjP7vkQJOU7MBeObTfbScIZOx0avHFKl8n96h-iskn-eSKrVFtVHfYia1fO1IFLXqCIz3VQSZ2isy7Nz-XJhHnXUHysZrmqseLoWqU9F5kjHSYFJHeq80/s320/P2110863.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I love how the snow lays on bushes</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-jBRC6HVGNTPWB0FeU-5gjOlJm9fVHoDt5LU27AvV6P7VjC_26t0Ed9_gBAxtGGouWbZGt6Ozu4m2rVTl1z5LdxdX3ROhr5ksocQR7MCOx2vZeIFF-to2vuxM4uI73rbX-bhXcZ3-Vs/s1600/P2110859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-jBRC6HVGNTPWB0FeU-5gjOlJm9fVHoDt5LU27AvV6P7VjC_26t0Ed9_gBAxtGGouWbZGt6Ozu4m2rVTl1z5LdxdX3ROhr5ksocQR7MCOx2vZeIFF-to2vuxM4uI73rbX-bhXcZ3-Vs/s320/P2110859.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and on the trees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It makes everything look clean. Everything looks peaceful and it is serene. I love the sounds of my footsteps on the ground. I like to be the first to step on the snow. Unfortunately, the snow didn't stick to the sidewalks.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh939gn7y-IZVzV1MrYPnB9at8S2eTYqLDc66YQ9mLabqthrGdzvb2reP1ic7nSBdL_pG2cvZ8iI32LUaUCYNmhNkV0Q-iAlO4nrPnkYa6M5WnHsQ_37SZrNtfzMQeLv4PwLd1K1bjnv38/s1600/P2110861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh939gn7y-IZVzV1MrYPnB9at8S2eTYqLDc66YQ9mLabqthrGdzvb2reP1ic7nSBdL_pG2cvZ8iI32LUaUCYNmhNkV0Q-iAlO4nrPnkYa6M5WnHsQ_37SZrNtfzMQeLv4PwLd1K1bjnv38/s320/P2110861.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I like this photo. I was actually trying to take a picture of the snow/ice drop. It blurred it but I like the depth that it created. Still learning how to use the camera. haha</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lando even posed for me</span>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wn-bNZUiAjsnRNLteZMjHJzTn8ve1IANw2M1FNSMK5BVmTyumqhuizfVd1pBu0pV9a4ALGwjrI2JvEsEbOM88_587gkiyTVjJlvlGGUWaJLnvT4-sikW9p8MYoDVKce6DE1OGLspTrk/s1600/P2110865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wn-bNZUiAjsnRNLteZMjHJzTn8ve1IANw2M1FNSMK5BVmTyumqhuizfVd1pBu0pV9a4ALGwjrI2JvEsEbOM88_587gkiyTVjJlvlGGUWaJLnvT4-sikW9p8MYoDVKce6DE1OGLspTrk/s320/P2110865.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He is such a good boy. Lando knows I need to practice :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was going to be one of those days where I wanted a fire and Bill was working. I had seen him enough times to make it myself . I came home from my walk with Lando and got to work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I grabbed Bill's gloves. My hands are small (child size) and the gloves are ridiculously huge on me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFstbWBFF-Y3c4eq_x-ZzbPzHKrOVAxk471X33ok-ZJrF3anthJWYHfgjEw5gRfdsZs0uTgDVsGGpIUafzX2QEabB7yMdhdDwqTvD0kq4y2CM56_qjmKSmBbVIROo3Bx2W1yjSOps7qQ/s1600/P2110870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFstbWBFF-Y3c4eq_x-ZzbPzHKrOVAxk471X33ok-ZJrF3anthJWYHfgjEw5gRfdsZs0uTgDVsGGpIUafzX2QEabB7yMdhdDwqTvD0kq4y2CM56_qjmKSmBbVIROo3Bx2W1yjSOps7qQ/s320/P2110870.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Went outside got some wood and piled it in the fireplace.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJnoFNzWB0sAp1oPIo6tKBx36enaRrmYQZBIuHD_AbMvuvQk-w1xwdjSxIkN30hvjlnuu4A7XXt3FFE3N5JlDGNAElu_STECMuhrjhzNu4fw2C6xASiASuBAFCdkwAscQ31MTEqlG2lI/s1600/P2110873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJnoFNzWB0sAp1oPIo6tKBx36enaRrmYQZBIuHD_AbMvuvQk-w1xwdjSxIkN30hvjlnuu4A7XXt3FFE3N5JlDGNAElu_STECMuhrjhzNu4fw2C6xASiASuBAFCdkwAscQ31MTEqlG2lI/s320/P2110873.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I used one of those self starter bricks. Its a cheat for me. Struck a match and watch it slowly build.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx8iLg6jNA-WVA4KAD8zTBiaBCAj-IucNQooArEe48ia750qJZ_4lRYyV0DGBr05NN8MCnc0_zhm6BB8BS7pMoTfpw0QyCSJHgbZuxJFNuLSD54uOKv13qT2YYHn4su2oTy_L4DMluypg/s1600/P2110874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx8iLg6jNA-WVA4KAD8zTBiaBCAj-IucNQooArEe48ia750qJZ_4lRYyV0DGBr05NN8MCnc0_zhm6BB8BS7pMoTfpw0QyCSJHgbZuxJFNuLSD54uOKv13qT2YYHn4su2oTy_L4DMluypg/s320/P2110874.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Voila! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I did use a pizza box to get the roaring sound I love.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAIgzQ_tg7qYVLbGgEaNWIjYJUBCd2-hUvqrXA0X_7RVnpge9lD1rkWk5HTtibFcuRV92IhJZj3jzq3h5ccx-G0lLLIxvuRPdxiXgwrDZVNTjFxdCNgLuiTiKT0_5vNsirMA0A3tT-gdA/s1600/P2110881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAIgzQ_tg7qYVLbGgEaNWIjYJUBCd2-hUvqrXA0X_7RVnpge9lD1rkWk5HTtibFcuRV92IhJZj3jzq3h5ccx-G0lLLIxvuRPdxiXgwrDZVNTjFxdCNgLuiTiKT0_5vNsirMA0A3tT-gdA/s320/P2110881.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yay!! I mean ugh me woman ugh make ugh fire. (pound on my chest)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now I could curl up on the couch and catch a marathon of World's Dumbest!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Is anybody ready for spring yet???</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Firestarter <span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Abbie</span></span></div>
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Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-26166612526714263892012-02-23T09:44:00.004-05:002012-02-23T09:44:28.195-05:00Bitchfest<span style="font-size: large;">Ever had one of those days where it seems the world decides to go against you all day long. It could be that I am PMS but why do people have to be little <a href="mailto:a$$hol@s">a$$hol@s</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I came home to the trash being all over the carpet. Really Lando? He was very good about not getting into the garbage. Was the food that smelly but the coffee grounds?? That is a bitch to vacuum up without staining.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Donna Marie forgetting her grandfather's birthday especially after reminding her the week and day before. Thou she remembers her husbands Aunt's birthday. Am I being too sensitive?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How about I babysit the kids on a work night so she and her husband can go out on a belated valentine dinner only to come home at 1AM. I don't know about you but that was tough I was exhausted. Did I get a thank you or a call the next day to tell me what a wonderful to me? Nooo Am I being taken for granted or being too sensitive?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How about I ask my son to help me put some things in the attic and he forgets? Its not like I ask him to do things for me. Far from it. I try not ask my children for any help because I end up getting upset because they whine. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> My new phone died and I forgot the charger. I didn't know the new phone gets very hungry for energy and it dies a quick death, if it is not fed. It reminds me of an electronic toy my son once had. It was a pet something or other and you needed to feed it, play with it, and take outside to remain happy. It was the shape of a tiny egg. Drove me crazy. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">People driving like dumb F$%^ on the road. The douches were out today. Its like they all know today is the day to mess with me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am on my second day of my new lifestyle watching what I eat and exercising. I downloaded an app that counts and calculates for me what I haven eaten and what remains for the day. It's great and sucks at the same time. Now I see how many calories I have left for the remained of the day and then I see how much I have left and its not much :( Maybe if I wasn't such a fat f#$@ I wouldn't have this problem. My metabolism is shot so I have to really work at this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I am hungry, cranky, and PMS( y). I know it is not a word but work with me people!!! This has been the longest day ever :/</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Well, I have vented . I would love to have a Cosmo but I have reached my quota of calories for the day. grrrr</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wasting away 1/4 of an ounce at a time <span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Abbie</span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-1457686496542111512012-02-22T13:07:00.003-05:002012-02-22T13:07:34.624-05:00One Request<span style="font-size: large;">It was brought to my attention, because I was clueless, that Google Friend Connect will be closing and I will lose the precious few readers that follow me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I ask, most humbly, that you please continue to follow me whether subscribing though email or RSS feed. I have the choice on the right side of this post.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have a twitter account but I still haven't attempted to connect the blog with it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am taking it one step at a time. I am being pushed into this new medium by Google. I am learning this on the fly since Google plans to do this on March 1, 2012. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was perfectly happy with the old way. Why the change? I don't like change. For whatever their decision to do this, I have to adjust. Is kicking and screaming okay? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope you will continue this journey with me : ) I have enjoyed reading your comments. If not, it was a pleasure to have you as my follower <3 <3</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Abbie</span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-17750637290437935012012-02-22T11:41:00.002-05:002012-02-22T11:41:41.820-05:00Legos with the Grands<span style="font-size: large;">Bill and I were watching the grandkids. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTRVC-U40NP6MQheQYMFc9Xidz90zJexovuKoXNYUKuJ8gdADVQcB05KTPnPBksBqNnMjBg0nff0CyoC0wMkihdFxvKLXqNlmWk5N24ZhEYCqdf5BnUgvc88P7q7m1bgoPCELufwNLwM/s1600/P2170903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTRVC-U40NP6MQheQYMFc9Xidz90zJexovuKoXNYUKuJ8gdADVQcB05KTPnPBksBqNnMjBg0nff0CyoC0wMkihdFxvKLXqNlmWk5N24ZhEYCqdf5BnUgvc88P7q7m1bgoPCELufwNLwM/s320/P2170903.JPG" width="307" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Donna Marie and B were going out to dinner for a belated Valentine's Day. It had been awhile, since we had all four kids in the house. I was looking forward to it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They kept me on my toes. Their demands were fast and furious. They wanted something to eat. Something to drink. Snacks. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The one that didn't talk was Joaquin. Donna Marie told he he would be hungry. I have to figure out what he needs by smells and ears. haha He is crawling all over. Glad Bill was their to help keep an eye on that one!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Once my shift as short order cook was over, we needed to do something to entertain the angels. Olivia had that all figured out.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0rRZ1faGIN0e27EB2AEJtgz6TSjsEjW3QMw8ZB16trbrJUFYmIlGLJNY5y5yLuyceSvCPXZ4idBEkLlbKuWwQi7UNmxVPpP2z6GOoi_yv_gHTyuhvz1cR4ygzQAtOBi2ViLwYWTxnwk/s1600/P2170899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0rRZ1faGIN0e27EB2AEJtgz6TSjsEjW3QMw8ZB16trbrJUFYmIlGLJNY5y5yLuyceSvCPXZ4idBEkLlbKuWwQi7UNmxVPpP2z6GOoi_yv_gHTyuhvz1cR4ygzQAtOBi2ViLwYWTxnwk/s320/P2170899.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Olivia brought out the Lego's and spread them out. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNaSzN9X0pxTxhAQuqHuzUNpZvAOdPZg0ZDadcoFeI6jsFMy3m7PuiZgRfv3a44n8nFp1GtTZCFtAkSm2kGTLJ1O08kyXmlgVp43dBpf_DtCXms13MBsnU1j5hl3DlhrOHXbRnw0G4Xo/s1600/P2170897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNaSzN9X0pxTxhAQuqHuzUNpZvAOdPZg0ZDadcoFeI6jsFMy3m7PuiZgRfv3a44n8nFp1GtTZCFtAkSm2kGTLJ1O08kyXmlgVp43dBpf_DtCXms13MBsnU1j5hl3DlhrOHXbRnw0G4Xo/s320/P2170897.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What happened next was that one by one, all four kids came together and played so nicely together. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perfect.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">At least, for 10 minutes. Then, chaos ensued.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It was a long 5 hours! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Watching the Clock Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-27423788849095921822012-02-21T09:43:00.000-05:002012-02-21T09:43:32.543-05:00Gumbo<span style="font-size: large;">Bill wanted to make dinner. He knew I wanted to play with my new phone!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Koc2j5H71diKSyLyyNBVDTp5n4lWggMhX1DF9uaTyDCDeQy3ITKeXKTl8vva51KxAhmvLYVnVrAr7YfBgcwUf1rnYqBYdp0Uzm6RQ5Naw6gi01x_UGKVvW0MuVI6ZiUDXLPlrw6yUuc/s1600/P2190912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Koc2j5H71diKSyLyyNBVDTp5n4lWggMhX1DF9uaTyDCDeQy3ITKeXKTl8vva51KxAhmvLYVnVrAr7YfBgcwUf1rnYqBYdp0Uzm6RQ5Naw6gi01x_UGKVvW0MuVI6ZiUDXLPlrw6yUuc/s320/P2190912.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Aren't my reading glasses sexy? haha. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A side effect to getting older.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And if your wondering what I am drinking. It is nice tall glass of Cosmo. Lots of ice :) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Vodka is my friend!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It helps me to understand this new technology of an android.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I was reading and playing with all the new buttons, my wonderful husband made gumbo. He was meaning to try a new recipe. He didn't have all the ingredients but he is loosey goosey with recipes. He will either substitute or delete. That is so not me. I need the directions and follow them to a T. I make a better baker than I am a cook. Precise measurements. If I don't have everything I need, I won't be cook</span>. <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">OCD much??</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had to clean my kitchen but I didn't mind. As long as I could look at my pretty phone, I cleaned. It didn't bother me one bit. He was working so hard. The very least I could do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My love started with oil, onions, and garlic power.</span><br />
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</div><span style="font-size: large;">While that was cooking, he sliced up one pound of andouille sausage.</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Once all of that was sliced up, he went to work on the green pepper and red pepper. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><span style="font-size: large;">Bill added the sausage to the pot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He then added the rest of the ingredients plus tomatoes he grew from the garden. </span><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bill added chicken, rice, and then seasoned. He used chicken legs because I didn't have chicken breast. See loosey goosey. I wouldn't have made it unless he suggests it. I wouldn't have thought about it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichphphhDC5wCpJkIlgGMElPpiVsYwGbCErP60mcJ88_taYd8Q9yW-7sBkQ2WX4wObiWHfXbdg8zWnvbUqew4DuuOCAByv8ABaxtGpJxfXR0futdgMzXH9O1ynu5EORjEszMTPjCto_mQ/s1600/P2190920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichphphhDC5wCpJkIlgGMElPpiVsYwGbCErP60mcJ88_taYd8Q9yW-7sBkQ2WX4wObiWHfXbdg8zWnvbUqew4DuuOCAByv8ABaxtGpJxfXR0futdgMzXH9O1ynu5EORjEszMTPjCto_mQ/s320/P2190920.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CNCOasKTaixMZmWyJN31Jm1YJBC94o79hs2-8WVK89rn03afcDSRSBWAa36sMUytlAojBasaHVSJB5QX89_JLMlITMcTx5uYwPUEZppgQjDyKiOKRqRT4V2Kt8hQ1s5cRjhzR704jvk/s1600/P2190923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CNCOasKTaixMZmWyJN31Jm1YJBC94o79hs2-8WVK89rn03afcDSRSBWAa36sMUytlAojBasaHVSJB5QX89_JLMlITMcTx5uYwPUEZppgQjDyKiOKRqRT4V2Kt8hQ1s5cRjhzR704jvk/s320/P2190923.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The aroma of the succulent food was overwhelming! I couldn't wait to eat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I forgot to take a picture of the final product but let me tell you it was delicious! </span><span style="font-size: large;">And very filling!! </span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Doesn't food taste better when someone else cooks it for you?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Bill for a wonderful meal and my new phone!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Very grateful <span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Abbie</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-29293620803680048922012-02-20T13:40:00.000-05:002012-02-20T13:40:01.585-05:00One Shot<span style="font-size: large;">I have been interested in taking my picture taking more seriously. I won't say photography because I am not in that league. Yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span style="font-size: large;">I asked Bill the other day for a favor. I told him he might not like it but it would help me improve. He nodded slowly and asked me to continue I asked him if he could be my subject for improving my camera skills. He rolled his eyes and said if only he can have say over what pictures are post worthy. I agreed and it was only fair. I wasn't planning it but he did bring up a good point, if one picture does come out nice I would love to post it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know that I could use anything and go anywhere and use whatever to practice. But I figured I love to look at him and it would be something we could both do together, if that makes any sense. The kind of pictures I like to take is natural. Action shots or just being relaxed.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I figured with the digital camera I do not waste "film". I can take as many pictures figuring out what works with what and what all the knobs and buttons on the camera do. I can take hundreds of film not print any of them. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">That way when I do improve, I can move to a better camera and I will feel good about it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was on pininterest and looking at all the things and I was noticing all the photos of various thing and I grabbed my camera. You can say I was inspired.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bill was getting ready for work and I figured while he is busy I could start. I got in position and I turned the camera on. I told Bill the battery is dying so it won't be so bad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He was smiling and mentally preparing for my presence and listening for the click of the camera and not be so distracted to cut himself, while he was shaving. He need not have worried because after the first shutter of the camera it died.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My luck.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0BzPD1OetphyvaLjWgMpsAyZTSzHQ0gxl5zSXIuA2AJTW-h1LMWoCVORF4HFiSSKtCa7nqEvHC8bA7REhvPKLy3nam4-Oj-jYfIJ0H88NaXmQFn-VDOKr65FzmiSvLGaLfhcGkIneAE/s1600/P1180741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0BzPD1OetphyvaLjWgMpsAyZTSzHQ0gxl5zSXIuA2AJTW-h1LMWoCVORF4HFiSSKtCa7nqEvHC8bA7REhvPKLy3nam4-Oj-jYfIJ0H88NaXmQFn-VDOKr65FzmiSvLGaLfhcGkIneAE/s320/P1180741.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I told Bill not to worry because I was not really prepared. I needed to have things situated to get the right shots. I have an idea of what I am looking for and I will be ready the next time! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He was not worried in the slightest.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-7518723478109791112012-02-17T11:22:00.000-05:002012-02-17T11:22:16.955-05:00Jackson turns 2<span style="font-size: large;">My little angel turns two. His birthday party was at the Y. The cake was done by a dear old friend of Donna Marie's.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRo_SeK-UxYVugt3VX9PaYY1DLbv64GBESalTjta0hvaXkVcCHhgR57qzsR8uDApX1QNjdMiC8vq9aMpLEMxfNjTbZkoxONpxTdgApbDPfhXjOH6lioSoCXBJPZPYqmMyY0YLWLBVroE/s1600/P1290795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRo_SeK-UxYVugt3VX9PaYY1DLbv64GBESalTjta0hvaXkVcCHhgR57qzsR8uDApX1QNjdMiC8vq9aMpLEMxfNjTbZkoxONpxTdgApbDPfhXjOH6lioSoCXBJPZPYqmMyY0YLWLBVroE/s320/P1290795.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">His name is Howard. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhLyJ4SLAE9YExmumvld_T2K_6qhYPovi-1GHm3kk5YDUva16ty222eHMkc5AOp2K91FZBkRdl1rLIiyh6yqM6gehz_FKd5d4EBWbXQ9n0ITg6w4eWON6l1zBOf3BDj8tNPfNsvXpJ-CY/s1600/P1290797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhLyJ4SLAE9YExmumvld_T2K_6qhYPovi-1GHm3kk5YDUva16ty222eHMkc5AOp2K91FZBkRdl1rLIiyh6yqM6gehz_FKd5d4EBWbXQ9n0ITg6w4eWON6l1zBOf3BDj8tNPfNsvXpJ-CY/s320/P1290797.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I got to catch up with another one of Donna Marie's childhood friends Kimmy. She used to live next door. She has two children that I instantly fell in love with. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7ySfGQWCLMwttnteOH6hRXZH3sBzGk6s5sGHe7WQKjEUd0wYKOMrgz6_ua3sFEdhlxytBYkJgH93km5taOg_1K2FBOirfObQPTXJwtjWXgEhFNRbSDOgxLqQvjJYadutksRi-_p5xwQ/s1600/P1290816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7ySfGQWCLMwttnteOH6hRXZH3sBzGk6s5sGHe7WQKjEUd0wYKOMrgz6_ua3sFEdhlxytBYkJgH93km5taOg_1K2FBOirfObQPTXJwtjWXgEhFNRbSDOgxLqQvjJYadutksRi-_p5xwQ/s320/P1290816.JPG" width="172px" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Now I am the type to let the child come to me. I don't like making a child interact with an adult they don't know. But for some reason I couldn't help myself and I gave these children a hug. Hey they were so sweet and what is better they didn't recoil. For that I am most grateful, because I would have felt so bad if they did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The kids were taken to another room where it was spacious and they were able to play.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bill, my mother in law, and myself stayed in the room where it had chairs.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYC0piH6EnmDdIZetEH8Sk8Lvf7M8rycnMVXXn3u9O4I5BjFB670V6bvuIaC-IzvkH3L3LenkxwmibCe4rUWVDg7JkheqUk1VNeY-f6Dr2bmKzDHp6HyNCmQJ0AQ1glKfGYL3EvGkWkrE/s1600/P1290800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYC0piH6EnmDdIZetEH8Sk8Lvf7M8rycnMVXXn3u9O4I5BjFB670V6bvuIaC-IzvkH3L3LenkxwmibCe4rUWVDg7JkheqUk1VNeY-f6Dr2bmKzDHp6HyNCmQJ0AQ1glKfGYL3EvGkWkrE/s320/P1290800.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"> We played catch up and I had Jesse with me. We passed him around. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I gave him a present. I teether.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I gave Olivia a sticker book. She loves stickers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I gave Josiah a perfection game. He liked it and so did the other kids.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I like to give presents to the siblings of my grandchildren to lessen the jealousy of the birthday child getting all the attention.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After an hour of play, they children came in and ate pizza and mac and cheese.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhax_Yl8YH2UffBiuCVPPjGsPos9jTpYSuWFKW7lFg-MlWOsitkbzKsDAJs9ecG7ydPDGPVQ-9IDOll_3p5m6ERJRklGPcv43I4LVcU2S36QSk1MeyIy7nfZc60baeY8q-RCzfAphG0ZQw/s1600/P1290818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhax_Yl8YH2UffBiuCVPPjGsPos9jTpYSuWFKW7lFg-MlWOsitkbzKsDAJs9ecG7ydPDGPVQ-9IDOll_3p5m6ERJRklGPcv43I4LVcU2S36QSk1MeyIy7nfZc60baeY8q-RCzfAphG0ZQw/s320/P1290818.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">We sang to him and he loved all the attention. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePOONo49x_7bu8Rz5bgE0MqSL_gGelxglRckQQFSI55NXIu-JXRIenIGqQmyvwdo1a8pSl70vlpAjeFXD1DMsDE4bZSol1vVQDpeXrv8zLmn1sPr9lkLJzHLjfkxeqcLH3ot4hI2VcHg/s1600/P1290812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePOONo49x_7bu8Rz5bgE0MqSL_gGelxglRckQQFSI55NXIu-JXRIenIGqQmyvwdo1a8pSl70vlpAjeFXD1DMsDE4bZSol1vVQDpeXrv8zLmn1sPr9lkLJzHLjfkxeqcLH3ot4hI2VcHg/s320/P1290812.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"> He blew out most of his candles on his own.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpKe_2KMnS1ykHi129A-kI5ft3k6YgnvgPkugC0wfFP2UJG394UdpRYiKYzSDo1Srw7VUuuXpZX1u6B_-JT9MbnzVAg_ZthcHCiUc3uZ3XPhBwyZCSfbkW4PbcwlvS_L66knhq62JVFM/s1600/P1290835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpKe_2KMnS1ykHi129A-kI5ft3k6YgnvgPkugC0wfFP2UJG394UdpRYiKYzSDo1Srw7VUuuXpZX1u6B_-JT9MbnzVAg_ZthcHCiUc3uZ3XPhBwyZCSfbkW4PbcwlvS_L66knhq62JVFM/s320/P1290835.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: large;">The cake was served up with ice cream sandwiches.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I wished we had cleaned his pizza face, But you can tell he really enjoyed it.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOGK3n2oPEP09loTKQ4-cgV-1zL_uFIlr1L2ECeDtp0HUmEk188_UUMM8C94lWKDJtN_260_CqOeOjPA14n2SUmkGqUEJCNMalAxdGjIk2s_SHhVTu2O4oAQoEpAKw2ERQ_3tN47u534/s1600/P1290823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOGK3n2oPEP09loTKQ4-cgV-1zL_uFIlr1L2ECeDtp0HUmEk188_UUMM8C94lWKDJtN_260_CqOeOjPA14n2SUmkGqUEJCNMalAxdGjIk2s_SHhVTu2O4oAQoEpAKw2ERQ_3tN47u534/s320/P1290823.JPG" width="202px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Birthday Jackson!!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-80058387273576001892012-02-16T11:17:00.000-05:002012-02-16T11:17:41.863-05:00A trip to the supermarket<span style="font-size: large;">I picked up Josiah from school. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyD3J85FC_weStZgPxJ_iuNN-Nnv24taVfAcib9kUoqlxSgdxmjX3Cq0ETviJWS1e5ml79PcOV9cJYin0uTDJXuy8lG9WRoWNWvPSeuSPhEUHzna20xUqrUyIoy1IeqnY_w5UKKMc1iBk/s1600/P2150893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyD3J85FC_weStZgPxJ_iuNN-Nnv24taVfAcib9kUoqlxSgdxmjX3Cq0ETviJWS1e5ml79PcOV9cJYin0uTDJXuy8lG9WRoWNWvPSeuSPhEUHzna20xUqrUyIoy1IeqnY_w5UKKMc1iBk/s320/P2150893.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He didn't drive me. He just like sitting in the driver's seat and be a kid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I needed to go to the supermarket and get something for dinner. I needed to get a cart. i asked Josiah if he wanted to get in the cart or walk. He wanted to going the cart but n the child's seat. I double checked with him and he wanted to sit in the child seat. This boy is 5 and he is big. It took us a minute to get him in the seat especially with those long legs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He beamed and giggled. He was in heaven. I can imagine he doesn't get in the cart with the other three siblings. Josiah had the cart to himself and couldn't stop smiling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You know what he asked me? Where are the Swedish fish? I created a Swedish fish monster. Did I get it for him? Of course, I did. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheQpC81Qc4tQjoA21-wBxGKlIRvs7ATc6wnzx_tILjaVAAJI94VM6oC7pN3fXSmaOQDJKLBKdTDZo9GIn-30jDsLHxmVh7QGYy34UOU1pl5ptQRf_LwwD98SaA6EKipT4CJtX3ElkWzg/s1600/P2150890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheQpC81Qc4tQjoA21-wBxGKlIRvs7ATc6wnzx_tILjaVAAJI94VM6oC7pN3fXSmaOQDJKLBKdTDZo9GIn-30jDsLHxmVh7QGYy34UOU1pl5ptQRf_LwwD98SaA6EKipT4CJtX3ElkWzg/s320/P2150890.JPG" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I was picking up items, he saw the box tops for education. Josiah yelled that we need to get that because his mom needs them. My daughter taught him well. She is a collecting machine! I told her and she was very proud of her boy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As we are going through the store, I am just loving and kissing on him and he is giggling and giving me the best of hugs.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0kGeBKq6JS98Km2CtlRyHyHNVNqvRAbuqAbXD28BXP87SRwPHT5AiSKUKDcZ4iqfhDNmHGa1P_UtbjIZV7Zgm0JKMWSahzKQ5oQWpc7qQYHeAsHtshmCIMY817jpOAWj2gyp_oBluHE/s1600/P2150889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0kGeBKq6JS98Km2CtlRyHyHNVNqvRAbuqAbXD28BXP87SRwPHT5AiSKUKDcZ4iqfhDNmHGa1P_UtbjIZV7Zgm0JKMWSahzKQ5oQWpc7qQYHeAsHtshmCIMY817jpOAWj2gyp_oBluHE/s320/P2150889.JPG" width="240px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was the best trip to the supermarket I have had in quite a long time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Please ignore the hair and the askew glasses. Hugging and winds can be treacherous.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Still smiling <span style="color: #cc0000;">Abbie</span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-91937833166181393362012-02-15T12:20:00.001-05:002012-02-15T12:23:42.159-05:00New Fan<span style="font-size: large;">I have a taste for Swedish fish. I love those red gummy candies. I love them so much that I eat them all the time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had my little bag opened, when my grandchildren asked for a piece. I always share with them. I loved the look on their faces when they tried it. They instantly smiled and asked for more. I usually have sweet things around the house so they always ask for something.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Isn't that what a grandma is supposed to have in her house??</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvVp0HrZipkWuhMVjMTrmolebyDBgw9kkdPI7Z2F9YhOi-wlfUQ3rzVKEcOWzxCX0R9r1P9Knea95Qgx2WC8B1uOfIw54zuy5RRqX-gFcscmMf16La1aODa9jOyMsNrJ1a-GjBZkt5NI/s1600/P1240790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvVp0HrZipkWuhMVjMTrmolebyDBgw9kkdPI7Z2F9YhOi-wlfUQ3rzVKEcOWzxCX0R9r1P9Knea95Qgx2WC8B1uOfIw54zuy5RRqX-gFcscmMf16La1aODa9jOyMsNrJ1a-GjBZkt5NI/s320/P1240790.JPG" width="240px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I pick Josiah up from school once a week and I don't know how it started but we went to the store and I picked up some Swedish fish. I was also getting something else at the time and since the stores have those temptations at the check out line I decided to get a little bag for Josiah.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KIHNJYEql7m8jc68vmuUmHaW6ONGZ3TLgXWT5HmbA_qwmwYvSV52O9M7YZHOsPjDipJ5hc_Q6DNth3HInvYixs8prc59YHjOA96IVIqm-9Ff8-PRZ3ITzKzXrSfZNc7zKZaxhtz3PNA/s1600/P1240791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KIHNJYEql7m8jc68vmuUmHaW6ONGZ3TLgXWT5HmbA_qwmwYvSV52O9M7YZHOsPjDipJ5hc_Q6DNth3HInvYixs8prc59YHjOA96IVIqm-9Ff8-PRZ3ITzKzXrSfZNc7zKZaxhtz3PNA/s320/P1240791.JPG" width="240px" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The following week, he asked if we could get some Swedish fish and I said sure. So now every time I pick him up, he asks me and I always say yes. It is our thing. I love our little routine. The last two weeks he has asked if we should get Pappy some candy. Isn't he sweet for sharing?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not the healthiest treat but it is something I look forward to doing with my Josiah.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the weather gets hot, we will be going after school to get the Rita's water ice Swedish fish flavor!!! I hope he likes it too! If not, I will doing two trips.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Yum yum :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sweet-Tooth Abbie</span></span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-76531953084329551472012-02-14T22:44:00.001-05:002012-02-14T23:05:34.788-05:00My Twisted Story<img alt="The Vow" class="photo img" id="profile_pic" src="https://fbcdn-profile-a.akamaihd.net/hprofile-ak-ash2/187864_131563483577190_1951497055_n.jpg" /><a href="http://www.thevow-movie.com/">http://www.thevow-movie.com/</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had been seeing the ads for a few weeks and I am looking forward to watching it with the hubby. How romantic! The premise is a young newlywed couple get into an accident and the wife is in a coma. When she wakes up, she forgets a chunk of time. She remembers her last boyfriend and not her husband. Now he has to win her all over again. Does he do it? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I start thinking about the movie and personalize it because the world revolves around me. (not)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Would my husband do that for me? What if it was reverse and I had to woo my husband? I thought of all scenarios. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Why do I make myself mental? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Here is what I thought please come and join me to crazy town.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If I was the coma patient, I would surely be pissed off. I would look in the mirror and say what the </span><a href="mailto:f@#$"><span style="font-size: large;">f@#$</span></a><span style="font-size: large;"> happened to me? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where did the wrinkles come from and why am I so fat?!?! See if I don't remember my husband then my age would be 18. I looked completely different at that age. Forget about getting back with my husband I would be heading to the gym. I would also wonder why did I move to the boondocks. I used to live in NY. City girl. What the hell?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then I would look at my kids and grandkids and be sad. Sad that I missed so much time. I would also be in a state of shock. Remember I am mentally 18, I will have kids older than me and iinconceivable to have grandchildren. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My mind just blew up. I think of all angles and would my husband take this opportunity to skedaddled and get the hell out of dodge? If I was him, I would drop me off at the nearest corner.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If my husband was the one waking up from a coma, he would asked for a second opinion. Would he give me a chance? A short, round, Latina woman who adores him. I would be sneaking off to the gym every chance I got. Pull my face tight to lessen the wrinkles or just grow my hair long and cover them. It may be cheaper. I did win him once before but I was in fighting shape back then. I hope he would. In my movie version he would.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't all love stories end happily ever after? Oh wait, those are fairytales? Does it still count?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for riding with me on this little tour. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I guess this movie only works by having very young well adjusted and in shape people for the lead characters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Valentine's Day</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">Takes things too seriously and needs to loosen up</span> Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-64766700371895260902012-01-26T17:57:00.000-05:002012-01-26T17:57:00.068-05:00The Return of Game Night<span style="font-size: large;">When my children were very young, we would have Family Funday Sunday. We would have a big breakfast, rent a movie, or play a game. It was a way to just be together and be silly. Life moves on, the kids have moved away some across state lines and I miss those days of being with them on a regular basis.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have found a way to continue family game night. Thank you, Steve Jobs! For having the vision to open our worlds to new ways of communicating!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I happened to stumble upon this idea and it slowly developed into something I look forward to every Saturday night. It started, when I began watching a TV show on the BBC channel called <em>The Graham Norton show</em>. I love this show. It is very spirited. All the guests come out and they are interview together. I think this is a much better way to do the interviews. It is more relaxed and the the language is more freer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Graham Norton is an Irish comedian with a English talk show. He asks outrageous questions and loves to be silly. It is light hearted. I was thrilled to find out that he was coming out with a game show. It is called <em>What Would You Rather Do?</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The game show asks extreme questions such as "would you rather get shot in the knee or eat dog food for a year?" Awful, sometimes cringe worthy, but mostly humorous scenarios. At least, my type of humor. I laughed so much that I decided to text the questions to the kids. I did use judgement on some questions. Moms do not need to know certain things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't realize I was starting something until they started to text back. I just figured they would get a laugh for my ridiculousness. They had crazy answers which made me laugh even harder. The 30 minutes flew by. I felt a little sad that it was over so quickly. I wanted to keep it going.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I decided to do it the following weekend and so forth. Come to find out the kids also enjoy doing this as much as I do. I found a way to keep a family game night courtesy of the technological advances we have in this day an age. If only for a half hour, we are doing something together even though we are far way from each other to just be silly.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Thankful Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-33330608584938790362012-01-20T18:25:00.001-05:002012-01-20T18:25:55.524-05:00One Lucky Chick<span style="font-size: large;">We are expecting a little dicey weather this weekend. Bill is off for a few days so we will be staying in and I will be cooking comfort food. The kind that sticks to your ribs, while watching TV, and hanging out with the hubby,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I ordered a cord of wood. The first time for this season. It has been mild until recently and to keep fuel bills down we will be using the firewood for heat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love everything about my fireplace. The crackling sounds, the flickering of the fire as it dancing between the pieces of wood, and I love the roar it makes when the fire really gets going. I like to get it so hot that Bill has to put on shorts because it is so friggin hot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bill came off from working third shift or the graveyard shift. They were delivering early in the morning. I had asked him if that was okay. He thought it would be best if they did it as soon as possible. He didn't want to do this in the weather we will be expecting. Bill was barely home from work when they arrived.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The truck dropped the cord of wood on our driveway. Bill got started on stacking the wood. It may not seem like much but when you are just getting off work this makes for a long day. Bill told me he took his time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He had company. Lando was very happy to join in on the activity. He got to enjoy the smells that the wood brought with it. Bill was very impressed with Lando. He was expecting to go chasing Lando around the block. Lando likes to chase things and wander off. In fact, Lando stayed close by and Bill was able to concentrate at the task at hand. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It took him all morning but he completed the job. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Bill piled it beautifully and Lando looks so proud. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wonder if Lando plans to play fetch with the wood?</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0v1dqgCi1HTSEZDPpOTBqI7N2iB6aGPv8eaZP3roKkMCrPFsXQF5pqpsveknL3DXHibMU8_qkoMxxhPXfltG8pwNM7GCJvhEXUqTzNa9lUaLd2Oi06iX43yV-h-NbcfAOB1kmfb6l12I/s1600/399742_340213442669089_100000413092470_1286862_458215947_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0v1dqgCi1HTSEZDPpOTBqI7N2iB6aGPv8eaZP3roKkMCrPFsXQF5pqpsveknL3DXHibMU8_qkoMxxhPXfltG8pwNM7GCJvhEXUqTzNa9lUaLd2Oi06iX43yV-h-NbcfAOB1kmfb6l12I/s320/399742_340213442669089_100000413092470_1286862_458215947_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">What a man! He works 12 hours, stacks a cord of wood, and then when I come home I am greeted with this</span>...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61lg1zqaAnoD8fUsFdJCE5NovM5kbwYoAd6ssQJRT5toISL_qqAe8pqdNUSlt6oLJPzXPwCiTfCCIeebAbd_ijnTlzuF1CJ567tVfgq_tR5yHcWaPGulHJefQ4WSLMa0ADtuGbqNg3Yo/s1600/414855_340151136008653_100000413092470_1286661_850401167_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61lg1zqaAnoD8fUsFdJCE5NovM5kbwYoAd6ssQJRT5toISL_qqAe8pqdNUSlt6oLJPzXPwCiTfCCIeebAbd_ijnTlzuF1CJ567tVfgq_tR5yHcWaPGulHJefQ4WSLMa0ADtuGbqNg3Yo/s320/414855_340151136008653_100000413092470_1286661_850401167_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I am a lucky chick! </span><span style="font-size: large;">I get to snuggle with my love by the fire while recovering from my cold. I am already feeling better. Its going to be a great weekend!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Toasty Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-758209625123464282012-01-19T20:27:00.000-05:002012-01-19T20:27:23.454-05:00Icky Poo<span style="font-size: large;">Being a grown up has its perks. I can stay up late. I can drive my own car which I paid for. I can go to a bar and order a tasty Cosmo. But it also has its cons. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am sick. I have been sick for the past week. This is when I wish I wasn't a grown up. I wish a was little girl again. When I was a child if I became sick, I would go to my mom and she would touch my head and tell me I could stay home from school. She would tell me go back to bed. My mom would bring me toast and chocolate milk in bed. I would be able to watch tv and doze off, if I felt tired. She would bring me an extra blanket, if I was still cold.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She would check in on me and give me my medicine. I hated this part because back then the medicine tasted nasty. Kids today have it made. The medicine tastes like candy. I never had trouble giving it to the kids when they were little. Tylenol has cherry and grape flavors. I could have used this when I was a kid. The worst was the cough medicine. Come to think of it Robitussin still tastes nasty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Being a grown up, I have to give myself the cough medicine and I swear they are making the print smaller on the bottle. Which is not good when I can't read it on a good day. My eyes hurt so trying to focus was a little tough. After throwing that bad boy back and wanting to gag, I got ready for work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No one to tell me "oh Hun, don't go in you should stay home from work." </span><span style="font-size: large;">Bill takes good care of me when he is around but he is working the night shift this past week. We are like two ships in the night. I leave before he comes home and I come home and he is ready to leave for work. It doesn't happen all the time but I needed some TLC earlier this week. Even if he was around to say this to me, I would have still gone in to work. I am a big girl.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All I need is good medicine and hot tea and I am good to go. I am after all a grown up, but times like this I miss my mommy.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Getting Better Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1611678866221986052.post-83333534974023627792012-01-12T11:10:00.000-05:002012-01-12T11:10:57.188-05:00Happy New Year 2012<span style="font-size: large;">I know that we are almost half way through the month of January. But I couldn't let this go without putting it in print.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2011 was one hell of a year. Talk about a roller coaster. I have had extreme highs and extremes lows. I have been ready to say goodbye to 2011 for quite awhile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't want to call this my new years resolution. I may not stick with it, if I did. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I want to do things differently in the new year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Year of Change. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This will be my mantra. I have made a list which I hope to follow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Control my temper. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(not that I am violent)</span> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">but I have to remember people make mistakes we are all human</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Have more fun. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Try new things, get out of my comfort zone)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Gain more patience. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(not be so hard on myself or be a perfectionist)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Improve communication with my family. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Not give my opinion right away)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Enjoy the company of all my grandchildren. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(All of them will be closer in distance this year.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blog more <span style="font-size: x-small;">(just in case I lose my marbles from spending too much time with the grandkids)</span> <just kidding></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Read more </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">( broaden my mind - be more open to new ideas)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Find Peace </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDmmHAxpQFYj2wD5HrwiWyJBhBvi58SqfonCyslu87ZE8DvTus4O3Mk9F6e_4HTvhrX9Zi4Hsgx7SnwOwCBO9ku1vwdvylHCWU7Nf5nLKGcnQ-hn4u_iM8azDhFPmSVg3gY6o6P16XOn4/s1600/PC030557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240px" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDmmHAxpQFYj2wD5HrwiWyJBhBvi58SqfonCyslu87ZE8DvTus4O3Mk9F6e_4HTvhrX9Zi4Hsgx7SnwOwCBO9ku1vwdvylHCWU7Nf5nLKGcnQ-hn4u_iM8azDhFPmSVg3gY6o6P16XOn4/s320/PC030557.JPG" width="320px" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">and if it is possible, adore this man more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy New Year!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Abbie</span>Abbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17764322643677104765noreply@blogger.com3