tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10269642135375929112024-03-13T18:24:06.250-07:00the Scattered JournalistBits of random writings.peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-44355770205189023912016-07-26T13:30:00.000-07:002016-07-26T13:32:16.858-07:00It all started with Deadwood<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXfvZpZZhn9IZYyjmTaLgZtoXawruENPpu8jvFzAjTAuX2q7PKjzzrSjvrIJjzHca9YRGsaYE4xC8I8OC09Bx_Lxg9MZTk-Gq2Hi2PmTqpH6IbDQqJtVYhH6EQ7r-IJE8Rljn18s7QFz4/s1600/P1000256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXfvZpZZhn9IZYyjmTaLgZtoXawruENPpu8jvFzAjTAuX2q7PKjzzrSjvrIJjzHca9YRGsaYE4xC8I8OC09Bx_Lxg9MZTk-Gq2Hi2PmTqpH6IbDQqJtVYhH6EQ7r-IJE8Rljn18s7QFz4/s400/P1000256.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Charlie</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Ahwahnee Hotel ~ Yosemite National Park</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">October 2012</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Basil Hayden Story<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "remington noiseless";">I</span></b><span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">t was a rainy morning and rather than
hunker down in our cabin, we decided to take a little walk</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 9.5pt;">…</span><span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">it wasn’t raining
very hard and we did have our jackets!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">Yosemite
Falls had water again. North Dome was shrouded in strips of puffy clouds. Rain
drops danced in the puddles along the road. Soon, it was lunch time. We were
near the Ahwahnee Hotel and decided to head on over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">We
put our names in and were told it would be about 15 minutes. Charlie suggested that
we wait in the bar. The dining room host handed Charlie one of those automated
reservation pagers and we walked to the other side of the lobby. The tables were full but there were several
seats at the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">I
had just decided on the house chardonnay (of course!). Suddenly, Charlie
blurted out “Basil Hayden!” in a rather loud voice. I looked at him and said,
“What?” “Basil Hayden!!” Charlie replied. “Who is Basil Hayden?” I asked.
“Deadwood!!! It’s from the Deadwood series!” Still puzzled, I looked at him,
waiting for more info. “They drank Basil Hayden in the series! I thought they
made it up! But, it’s right there on the shelf!” he said, pointing to the
bottle. Well, now! He must order up a
Basil Hayden on the rocks! (You think?). And he did. Shortly after the drinks were served, our
mystic pager went off and we left for the dining room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">We
waited at the desk to be seated. Charlie was beside himself having found this
new whiskey. He was so enjoying it. We were escorted to our table. We settled
in after peeling off our soggy jackets. We had just finished our drinks when our server appeared. “Do you want another drink?” he asked, rather annoyed that he had to
serve two slightly wet and messy guests. We looked at each other and I asked
for another wine. “I’ll have a Basil Hayden on the rocks, please.” Charlie
replied. A pregnant pause ensued ~ the server stared at Charlie in disbelief and then responded with a rambunctious (and an obvious shift in attitude). “Yes, sir! Another Basil Hayden on the rocks!!! Will this be a
room charge, sir?” Charlie said no, that we would be paying cash. The server
then scurried off to get our drinks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">And so began the exploration of whiskies and bourbons.....more to follow, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "remington noiseless"; font-size: 9.5pt;">I'm willing to bet! </span><br />
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-87815288913527803402016-05-31T10:44:00.002-07:002016-06-01T10:00:34.996-07:00Harambe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">17 year old Harambe</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cincinnati zookeepers were forced to shoot and kill 17 year old Harambe, a silverback gorilla, after a three year old boy gave his parents the slip and fell into the animal's enclosure on Saturday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cell phone video made it possible for the world at large to view the incident shortly after it happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Headlines and news reports were peppered with this story over the weekend and the public was quick to jump on the opinion band-wagon. Zoo Director, Thane Maynard, reported that the decision to shoot the gorilla was the only choice. Animal experts Jack Hanna and Jeff Corwin both concurred that there was no other decision to be made. Ron McGill, communication director of Zoo Miami (who loaned Harambe to the Cincinnati Zoo), said that this was a tragedy for all concerned; that killing the gorilla saved the child's life. Had a tranquilizer dart been used, it would not have been instantly effective but instead would have aggravated the animal and the child would have been the recipient of the gorilla's displaced aggression. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This incident is tragic on all levels. After the child fell into the enclosure the chain of events could only be played out as they were. There is no room for should-a could-a would-a's. The child's life was in danger. Onlookers yelled and screamed, causing accelerated angst for the animal. Knowing that a tranquilizer dart would not</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">immediately sedate him but would</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> increase its anxiety (and possibly cause the child to be seriously injured or killed), the zookeepers had only one choice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As a parent of a small child who once launched himself out of a shopping cart, landing on the store's cement floor in a matter of seconds, I can totally relate to the shock and judgmental reaction directed at the child's parents by onlookers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Looking to place blame is an all too common reaction these days. It somehow gives us a place to park our disbelief and outrage. Blaming the parents, the enclosure, the zoo personnel or questioning the choice of killing over tranquilizing will not change what happened on Saturday. This story has a sad and bittersweet ending...</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">a magnificent animal was destroyed to save a child's life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-42470047003922473082015-12-29T10:53:00.000-08:002015-12-29T11:16:21.543-08:00♫ ♪ Baby! It's Cold Outside! ♪ ♫ ♪ <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">29 January 2015 ~ Just a few more days to go before we get to start over with a brand new year with no mistakes!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mistakes, you ask? Maybe 'mistakes' is not the right word. Maybe wrong choice or bad decision...? Miscalculation? Poor planning? How about dumb idea? Whatever the definition...I think we've all had a few, right?</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to the drought, this little plant didn't have a chance.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Like, when we were preparing the mobile vegetable planter for spring planting and were introduced to a 'great' soil at a local nursery. Fast forward to summer ~ definitely not epic! Those tomatoes and zucchinis (or, were they cucumbers? I forget.) never had a chance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We've all had them... and rehashing them will not fix them. The trick is to learn from these mistakes and move forward. "Spilt milk!" my mom used to say.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is currently 37 degrees right now. It was freezing when I got up at 6:45. Yet...I am already thinking about our gardens...and planting the Juliet grape tomatoes! Mmmm! I can almost taste them! I hope to resurrect a portion of the lawn (and, yes, with water conservation in mind), rework the surrounding planters and try to get some wonderful color and texture back into the gardenscape! Oo0o0oOo00! So many possibilities! </span><span style="text-align: right;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There are many other projects on the to-do list (Charlie refers to it as the 'Honey Do List'). Yes...there are those things that I am not skilled or strong enough to do...so, I will recruit him for those tasks. Refinish the patio chairs, paint the planter, repair some screening on the windows...general annual maintenance. We really do enjoy working together. We will try new tactics, refresh the sad garden areas with new plants and, rearrange the garden art...and in the end, we will have a fresh new look! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, baby, while it's cold outside, we will be inside, sitting by the warm fire...with catalogs, magazines and the Sunset Garden Guide....dreaming and planning for a sunny spring!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-8137859706850686442015-10-05T00:00:00.000-07:002015-10-05T00:00:01.021-07:0030 Years Ago....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thirty years ago, I married my best friend and soulmate.</div>
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And, we all say it..."Where has the time gone?" "Who are those people?!!"</div>
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Sometimes it seems just like yesterday...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Saturday, October 5, 1985</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The girls from our Girl Scout troop were our bridesmaids; </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">my youngest sister, Betsy, was the maid of honor.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Charlie's brother, Keith, was the best man. His long time friends were the groomsmen.</span></td></tr>
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We honeymooned in Yosemite.<br />
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In June, 1986, we welcomed our bundle of joy, Whitney.<br />
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And, then, the adventures of parenting began!<br />
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Lots of memories have been shared these last thirty years...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLfdBqHGaHwsGhGv9zv6gC9F3e-904fqF60zzvai44vAB7KP50lIKkXxaPCrDT_N8ICtGv5y2Qij3WBqS1cgResOJmLLstSo6LIyvGlLYBXjF8qWwWWuAGtfu7wG1vcG2i4ZATV7iMDY/s1600/Whitney+Charlie+Peg+May+2015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLfdBqHGaHwsGhGv9zv6gC9F3e-904fqF60zzvai44vAB7KP50lIKkXxaPCrDT_N8ICtGv5y2Qij3WBqS1cgResOJmLLstSo6LIyvGlLYBXjF8qWwWWuAGtfu7wG1vcG2i4ZATV7iMDY/s400/Whitney+Charlie+Peg+May+2015.JPG" width="398" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer 2015<br />
Whitney, Peg & Charlie</td></tr>
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Looking forward to sharing many more year with the love of my life.</div>
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Happy Anniversary, Charlie! Love you with all my heart!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October, 2014<br />
Wrapping up another week in the place we call home every October.</td></tr>
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<br />peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-46724995537610080612015-09-23T00:00:00.000-07:002015-09-23T07:57:43.146-07:00Hello, Autumn!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Finally. Autumn has arrived! As if there were any doubt that she was coming! This year, however, was brutal and many of us were craving her return early. By the middle of July, we had just had it! The hot weather came on the heals of our nonexistent winter. Spring was dry; the rains forgot to come at all. So when we got to summer's end, our gardens were dry to the bone; dead, really. </div>
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In Yosemite last year, the autumn colors were pretty much on schedule but we had no idea what Mother Nature had in store for us that first week in October! We were walking the Valley early one morning and in the distance, just across the road from the Chapel, we spied a speck of color tucked behind the evergreens.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <span style="line-height: 115%; text-align: center;">We walked slowly as if we might frighten it away</span><span style="line-height: 115%; text-align: center;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As we approached the trees, more color peeked out at us.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;">We walked quietly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;">As we got closer, we could see the skirt of the tree.</span></div>
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We could not believe the color of the leaves! This is a Sugar Maple tree. It is not native to Yosemite. Seeds must have been dropped by a resident critter. They might just have sailed in on a lovely afternoon breeze. But, they decided to let it stay. Each year, visitors come by the bus load, and more times than not, the bus drivers pull over so the visitors can get out and take oodles of pictures. Just like we did!<br />
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We made several visits to this tree last year. The colors seemed to become deeper and more vibrant each time we passed by.<br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Autumn</b></span></div>
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Autumn splendor! Autumn sky!</div>
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Your stealth approach has caught my eye!</div>
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The acorns drop from the oaks above.</div>
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The best of seasons! The one I love.</div>
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Leaves of red, of gold and rust</div>
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flutter from the trees.</div>
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Silently, in a ritual dance,</div>
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floating on the breeze.</div>
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Oh, Autumn! Dear Autumn!</div>
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Finally! You are here!</div>
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The early morning dampness;</div>
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the skies cool and clear.</div>
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The crunch of leaves of season’s past;</div>
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the dew upon the weathered grass.</div>
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The amber light atop the hills!</div>
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Lovely Autumn, you are here at last!</div>
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<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>~ peg ackerman</b></i></span><span style="font-family: Perpetua, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>2014</b></i></span><span style="font-family: Perpetua, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">One more visit before we leave for home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Welcome back, Autumn!</span></span></div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-1616025933893660652015-07-30T05:00:00.000-07:002015-07-30T05:00:02.102-07:00...missing her, still...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtk0IxIR8uxjsudNZYkkM_IMbkWEyE_PGjCAoMFgxIrMU-zSieyCbkN8-m1KMQKi_3wbK_-dEUwLdXeY6JFP6FfDVsXO0hWbBi1ZBQ38s4frJqfJ4d9X1MVUHee8D5iaC76HmjTpxbvw/s1600/Rainy+Day+Walk+Sketchedit3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtk0IxIR8uxjsudNZYkkM_IMbkWEyE_PGjCAoMFgxIrMU-zSieyCbkN8-m1KMQKi_3wbK_-dEUwLdXeY6JFP6FfDVsXO0hWbBi1ZBQ38s4frJqfJ4d9X1MVUHee8D5iaC76HmjTpxbvw/s400/Rainy+Day+Walk+Sketchedit3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's been a year now...sometimes it seems like just yesterday. On my morning walk, I came to the corner where the tree with the tiny leaves stands. As I rounded the corner I looked up and was greeted with a shower of yellow leaves ...just like the day we took one of our last walks together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wherever I went, she was not far behind. She would sit out on the back porch and scan the garden. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She always rearranged the dog cover on the couch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If I went out on a quick errand, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">she would be waiting for my return.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She would sneak up on the bed and hide.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She loved to walk!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I miss her, still.....<span style="color: #990000;">♥</span></span></div>
peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-32763759805283141532015-07-16T10:56:00.002-07:002015-07-16T11:05:31.292-07:00Ants! <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While the rest of the country has been deluged with pouring rain, floods, tornadoes and hurricanes, the summer of 2015 in Southern California will go down in history as the fourth year of bone-dry drought conditions and the invasion of ants. Yes! .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..ANTS!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. Those pesky, teeny-tiny, little creepy crawly insects that send out half a dozen scouts to scope out new territories to invade. If the scouts are successful in returning to the troops, they regroup and head out. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. Hundreds.....no, wait.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. THOUSANDS.. .. .. .. .. .. sneaking into homes across the south land.. .. .. .. .. .. stealthy</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> appearing without notice.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..marching in droves! </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"> ANTS! ANTS! ANTS! ANTS! ANTS!</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With the lack of rain and now, the mandated restriction that dictates when and how long we can water our gardens, we knew we were in for an uncomfortable summer and a possible ant invasion. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A couple of weeks ago, we noticed several tell-tale scouts, scurrying from here to there, checking things out. Two on the kitchen counter .. .., three on the window sill in the bathroom .. .. .. several on the pantry shelves .. .. .. .. .. .. .. OK! It was time to plan our defense! I grabbed the spray bottle of Simple Green and went after the scouts. Morning, noon and night, I would crouch down to eye level of the counters and watch for movement .. .. .. .. .. .. if I saw a scout .. .. .. he was toast! We were proactive! We made sure all trash/garbage was taken out before going to bed. We wiped down all the counters after dinner each night. All standing water was rinsed from the sinks and the dish tub dried. We ran the garbage disposal. We washed out the coffee maker. We eliminated every possible attraction. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As time passed, the scout patrol seemed to evaporate. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, we relaxed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">aturday morning I made raspberry scones. There were plenty left for Sunday, so I pulled out one of my tins, lined it with wax paper and packed the scones. The lid was secured. Sunday, we had more scones and still had a few left, so I put the lid back on, wiped the tin down and placed it back on the counter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday morning came and I was awakened by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Still half asleep, I made my way downstairs to find my husband on his hands and knees. At first, I thought he might have fallen. "Are you ok?!!" I asked. "ANTS!!!!" he proclaimed .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. OMG! .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. He wasn't kidding! ANTS.. .. .. .. .. .. EVERYWHERE!!!!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> ANTS! ANTS! ANTS! ANTS! ANTS!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the ventilation vent in the pantry they had marched under the pantry door, behind the refrigerator and up the side of the counter to the tin of scones. Focused on making his lunch, Charlie had opened the tin, thinking he would take a couple of scones to work to have with his coffee. Inside he discovered a kabillion ANTS .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. crawling all over the remaining scones! For the next half hour, we Simple-Greened the entire kitchen! We were ruthless! We watched for any type of movement. Stragglers hurried up the wall. Several tried to escape along the back of the counter .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. without success! </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGKA0ZPOEAs3U74daZrZuBsLfGVbwUW6fPUyes1lHZWcU4ooEOrH-9dXuhRhCYyBPc4FwTqdiKGn2NGEUMgonmb3CpsZDCcyrOFriOs19M1fbm_RxttpLAw4tU0fzMdBHt_Vz9Gda65p0/s1600/ant+sitting+right.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGKA0ZPOEAs3U74daZrZuBsLfGVbwUW6fPUyes1lHZWcU4ooEOrH-9dXuhRhCYyBPc4FwTqdiKGn2NGEUMgonmb3CpsZDCcyrOFriOs19M1fbm_RxttpLAw4tU0fzMdBHt_Vz9Gda65p0/s1600/ant+sitting+right.JPG" /></a> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Charlie left for work leaving me in charge of Operation Ant Annihilation! .. .. .. .. .. .. .. I continued to survey the counters. I watched (and destroyed) the ones left behind. I showered, dressed and returned to the kitchen .. .. .. and found a few more renegades attempting to find a way out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needing a break, I went for my morning walk. This ant-thing totally creeped me out. I can handle spiders, crickets....the occasional fly. But, .. .. .. .. .. .. ants?! Yuck! I totally blame our weather and the condition of our gardens for this infestation. I can't figure out how they got INTO that tin. I've used it for years to store shortbread, cookies, scones, muffins....and never, ever had an ant anywhere near it much less IN it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I got back from my walk, I checked again for intruders and saw none. The following morning, Charlie checked again for ants....still....no ants! I came downstairs a while later and found three .. .. .. two were on the rim of the jar that had an avocado pit rooting in water and one .. doing the back stroke <i>in</i> the water. Needless to say, I dumped the water (and, the ants .. .. ..), refilled the jar, dried it off and put it back in the window. What puzzles me is why the jar now? That avocado pit has been sitting in that little jar of water for weeks .. .. .. not one ant had approached it until now.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We still find the occasional scout...and I'm sure we will have more before the end of summer. We are standing by .. .. .. .. with Simple Green in hand! They just creep me out!</span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-73016074461611129512015-06-23T16:00:00.000-07:002015-06-24T05:49:59.337-07:00A Parched Summer for Sure! 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...and so the drought continues... The wildlife and foliage have been seriously compromised. Lawns across the state are a wispy brittle brown...dead, actually. Gardens struggle to stay alive. No more showy blooms of summers' past. Even the drought 'tolerant' and native plants are struggling as we try to relearn how to water our gardens. They tend to get more water than they need because we go on auto-pilot ~ watering when the ground looks dry instead of actually looking at the plant or sticking our finger into the soil. Everything is struggling.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoxcdU3JdIsRV_hJQKoaM23de7M0Zv42r9i32oi3zVO8xGc88z1TPk1X7dc7w_ren44YgjMpO3WvfH6QadJSYcPMfr-mJhlvb_-96csTUafhQ2vWeEH3tXJXR1zgaVllxTLobd3uwVMY/s1600/IMG_9881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoxcdU3JdIsRV_hJQKoaM23de7M0Zv42r9i32oi3zVO8xGc88z1TPk1X7dc7w_ren44YgjMpO3WvfH6QadJSYcPMfr-mJhlvb_-96csTUafhQ2vWeEH3tXJXR1zgaVllxTLobd3uwVMY/s400/IMG_9881.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nasturtiums are supposed to love the heat and thrive in crappy <br />
soil with very little water. Well, the challenge is ON! </td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRhNaqQkvafBFGyoArN4T72hSFG6LQis16nGsiUQ44qIf41Kt7h77h1f2MTdoZ0wIO-jDRvNBghHOEqohH2ImFxA1GsIpVmBroaOPYk-27ESBROUfVBJyCcx7Y_gBAvj3zy-WZiH-NcA/s1600/Not+laughing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRhNaqQkvafBFGyoArN4T72hSFG6LQis16nGsiUQ44qIf41Kt7h77h1f2MTdoZ0wIO-jDRvNBghHOEqohH2ImFxA1GsIpVmBroaOPYk-27ESBROUfVBJyCcx7Y_gBAvj3zy-WZiH-NcA/s400/Not+laughing.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">This little plant was 'drought tolerant' and<br />
doing so well...I cut back the spent branches<br />
(there were tiny leaves already forming at<br />
the base)...apparently, the flowers on this<br />
plant did not see the humor.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">July is not here yet...it seems like its late August/early September. Dry, hot, and not very pretty in our garden.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxOVleJsm1RKx-wP2DdCrYJtWCcO4FXDO071hXtqc_uF0X-qL_Dhb8jtCpDxSjVQ60_LopuSC4snKMclK-egrYPWrDk8JWtNeR7kPkU9uNSir1Vv2oP9kE21WNY-ym35ctDsJIXyS7gw/s1600/IMG_9891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVCqLveM5-1yRqv7ZT_VcAmDlJv8swKuJCOJ_-6RRh51e3v6blXNMH-7CyO1oIu-FL1Km8CwncTu2gMA2DgLy9ICPnQkaWX54ZS0OmOAdjyhx7SrIO07yGBXl9jYYaakYqgumM01dzBg/s1600/IMG_9891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVCqLveM5-1yRqv7ZT_VcAmDlJv8swKuJCOJ_-6RRh51e3v6blXNMH-7CyO1oIu-FL1Km8CwncTu2gMA2DgLy9ICPnQkaWX54ZS0OmOAdjyhx7SrIO07yGBXl9jYYaakYqgumM01dzBg/s400/IMG_9891.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This barrel should have a plethora of Marigolds and<br />
Lantana and 5' tall Russian Mammoth Sunflowers.<br />
Rather pathetic results, I think.....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw9E0efVNk1Ww0Q-9ozemB7MJbAp174T1Y7w-b-C1q9IG3Gq6xX1eyVJVEY4y9HROSvKxcCwz_-Vi31FNkr38yQHIETEVFDkNFAP2tUsqYiqrsn5cIMZz2AXj1BPFsYe4zYjIeRoxtoU/s1600/IMG_9882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw9E0efVNk1Ww0Q-9ozemB7MJbAp174T1Y7w-b-C1q9IG3Gq6xX1eyVJVEY4y9HROSvKxcCwz_-Vi31FNkr38yQHIETEVFDkNFAP2tUsqYiqrsn5cIMZz2AXj1BPFsYe4zYjIeRoxtoU/s400/IMG_9882.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween-y Violas are happy in the old log out front.<br />
I absolutely adore this little plant!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZ8CKhCzxo7CIxCeSOlqmYumSVJhxfi_ScTKEnFVnGDUjJY1c2T32L2H7JEuXUZR-tfgZ6xKvj6rdAPHoaSk9Dg1UGa_DpppYQ10vHnYcaXbCmSwRYVsUhaZYpkVDqRNzTHlNCMdUIdo/s1600/IMG_9872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZ8CKhCzxo7CIxCeSOlqmYumSVJhxfi_ScTKEnFVnGDUjJY1c2T32L2H7JEuXUZR-tfgZ6xKvj6rdAPHoaSk9Dg1UGa_DpppYQ10vHnYcaXbCmSwRYVsUhaZYpkVDqRNzTHlNCMdUIdo/s400/IMG_9872.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Lantana seems to be acclimating nicely. I may just plug in<br />
several more and let them go!<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The wildlife is finding it more challenging to find food. And, so, the circle of life is quite active. This morning, I again heard the heartbreaking cry of the mockingbird; one that is repeated almost daily now. The sad squawking can be heard all over the neighborhood ~ the hurt, the anger, the grief as it sings it's sad song after discovering it's nest has been raided and the babies taken.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERFGH6XNnnzJkDLiKysV4TmsOlGAi6FbG-FhsA_y_DrLUSZrJVQA2pnh7ax7HB4kZkYT2YVTRvM0c8jDByIErBXVY2IH4lv2q-J-eL6dniRRxrfP5jPr1wQoR3VGcP7prVIGIVTg6klQ/s1600/P1150401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERFGH6XNnnzJkDLiKysV4TmsOlGAi6FbG-FhsA_y_DrLUSZrJVQA2pnh7ax7HB4kZkYT2YVTRvM0c8jDByIErBXVY2IH4lv2q-J-eL6dniRRxrfP5jPr1wQoR3VGcP7prVIGIVTg6klQ/s400/P1150401.JPG" width="400" /></a> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mockingbird on power pole singing her sad song.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ravens and hawks frequent the trees above. Both have been know to snatch the little birds from the hidden nests in the tree tops. A young hawk has made several visits here lately. He (she?) swoops stealthy into the branches of our Italian Stone Pine tree looking for something to eat. The birds in the branches below and on the feeders are pretty savvy and somehow escape in one big </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cloud before the hawk can attack.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3giDDxgDGvnQCnEjnNOKGR_cMvDV_x9_Ru-WfexsjpgJMquJyNhWHvjR_qES2MpAqVQcyQ9BDWxYAw8z5qy8bpehcEw4npmt9Q2s352I7hpCk6YriT0caPAZnypuj6S67XW1AheO60T8/s1600/P1100838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3giDDxgDGvnQCnEjnNOKGR_cMvDV_x9_Ru-WfexsjpgJMquJyNhWHvjR_qES2MpAqVQcyQ9BDWxYAw8z5qy8bpehcEw4npmt9Q2s352I7hpCk6YriT0caPAZnypuj6S67XW1AheO60T8/s400/P1100838.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two black ravens watch our garden from above.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvgZE61JpaT-zfGleLTbUuVr8VDFAF1qfSNzgHLF9TEeOwz3BJ37LqxDlV-X93Szm6GDROiddw866d3dsg_ocslYxDEltpZWSuAH5AL53l3UDxF4xzdIDmhI57Z3fqUQZfPENWYpfvWU/s1600/HawkVSMocking+Bird+2010+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvgZE61JpaT-zfGleLTbUuVr8VDFAF1qfSNzgHLF9TEeOwz3BJ37LqxDlV-X93Szm6GDROiddw866d3dsg_ocslYxDEltpZWSuAH5AL53l3UDxF4xzdIDmhI57Z3fqUQZfPENWYpfvWU/s400/HawkVSMocking+Bird+2010+7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mockingbird and hawk face off in the Deodor tree across the street.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Occasionally (and, sadly) the hawk is successful. I will find a scattering of little feathers beneath the tree. There are several feral cats that have claimed this neighborhood ~ a fluffy tabby (we call him Pumpkin) and a light grey (Earl Grey). They, too, stalk the feeder area, hoping to grab a snack. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Security!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When there is a cat nearby, we usually get an alert from a squirrel who is sitting on a tree limb, the top of a fence or perched on the power pole. The urgent barking continues until the cat moves on. Any time I hear the alert, I go out to check what's going on. Many times I find the rouge cat and chase him off. Then, a reward is due, so I get a handful of peanuts and toss them to our security squirrel!</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeJ4IPd5jKPsLefEoRSUyZCwElsk8dojFbDPzDMJ3T-dUaPVkAM1mCFV0Bh8SvRXV84FgzYOVOluwh3cGhTjxkjd3xfYlXnLtXQzLLNfPF6c2SDhNaRxPEadDBB5JOFF1V7H0_AxGiV4/s1600/P1050723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeJ4IPd5jKPsLefEoRSUyZCwElsk8dojFbDPzDMJ3T-dUaPVkAM1mCFV0Bh8SvRXV84FgzYOVOluwh3cGhTjxkjd3xfYlXnLtXQzLLNfPF6c2SDhNaRxPEadDBB5JOFF1V7H0_AxGiV4/s400/P1050723.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Security Squirrel Squad is always watching from wherever they are hanging out!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyfFvo6WsAzkihG-1a_Q4NVvELMSO84_wIjojARCfHZ_McvffTubueDcTz6MkkduVrEsm8uqAE4bMctxTeW_7EYfErvqc_0sR8cIp6Gcizgz6liPHjRMRHlGnJDqVOR4MRBEXXzjGds0/s1600/bees+at+fountain.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyfFvo6WsAzkihG-1a_Q4NVvELMSO84_wIjojARCfHZ_McvffTubueDcTz6MkkduVrEsm8uqAE4bMctxTeW_7EYfErvqc_0sR8cIp6Gcizgz6liPHjRMRHlGnJDqVOR4MRBEXXzjGds0/s320/bees+at+fountain.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is some good news, though. With the relentless heat, the bees have discovered our little fountain in the front yard. How lucky for our garden! (If you look closely, you can see the bees on and around the stones). We fill the fountain daily for all of the wildlife to enjoy. While the plant life is shifting, the watering hole is a constant for the birds and the bees...and other creatures that might be thirsty! The tall pine tree towers over what is left of the garden, offering shade and a safe haven for all.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblJvfzrVsH7_cRa4GymCvJpC4SXDGyifKGWLp3gcb7_q5LuwUVypImgx-4XRWCcr36rKLdrClgwU1UpycebZytl1Gs7lhzSwwdRRjnWOn909Kr_kSfCN5gVwgX7E2sfIqL9xqpD2Gmak/s1600/IMG_9880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblJvfzrVsH7_cRa4GymCvJpC4SXDGyifKGWLp3gcb7_q5LuwUVypImgx-4XRWCcr36rKLdrClgwU1UpycebZytl1Gs7lhzSwwdRRjnWOn909Kr_kSfCN5gVwgX7E2sfIqL9xqpD2Gmak/s400/IMG_9880.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drought tolerant plant. Not a native. And, I've just learned,<br />
drought tolerant and native don't necessarily mean the same thing!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZHOAM4EBGR82S5yP6xHbCIjfexjcfnWR7wfW_-ERBoaFAkwmqzpymSeqoH-OWtobgaS3EhwIETvEq2gLAE6SwUKATbuXNPmBvDsuXQ-XJQCkKw8U7TXFupdm8SkIkUW14kCzteM15OE/s1600/IMG_9887ed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZHOAM4EBGR82S5yP6xHbCIjfexjcfnWR7wfW_-ERBoaFAkwmqzpymSeqoH-OWtobgaS3EhwIETvEq2gLAE6SwUKATbuXNPmBvDsuXQ-XJQCkKw8U7TXFupdm8SkIkUW14kCzteM15OE/s400/IMG_9887ed.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Hawaiian Blue Eyes' seem to thrive nicely...so far...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwL5LNIfAZoH93nfrawxdJohYvJoLbXlX3J6D0lZSgmkfStDHoN7BmYBkivoG5Bw4YrFi2K-Sh_vrH374uWXDb7jYniQSyE_NfAQKu4gsR050hsvQG8Zs6wMUEJ-KrLRdGrLj2-cqId8/s1600/IMG_9886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwL5LNIfAZoH93nfrawxdJohYvJoLbXlX3J6D0lZSgmkfStDHoN7BmYBkivoG5Bw4YrFi2K-Sh_vrH374uWXDb7jYniQSyE_NfAQKu4gsR050hsvQG8Zs6wMUEJ-KrLRdGrLj2-cqId8/s400/IMG_9886.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a rock-something flowering plant...and will do well with <br />
very little water once established. We bought six!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAu2ZtXoe4gb1hpB_J9cmINC2Evds_25iOKaeXeVFXEMxwgzcuemvp5QxUP19zkldkQiuuaft_9QAe3RjfJ8Bf6lWnUhedYU39NAnhe5xYztp75SzHM3Z_vPzWzJffsmVnNahCYIplRb8/s1600/juliettomatoesed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAu2ZtXoe4gb1hpB_J9cmINC2Evds_25iOKaeXeVFXEMxwgzcuemvp5QxUP19zkldkQiuuaft_9QAe3RjfJ8Bf6lWnUhedYU39NAnhe5xYztp75SzHM3Z_vPzWzJffsmVnNahCYIplRb8/s400/juliettomatoesed.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are Juliet Grape Tomatoes.<br />
I think we chose the wrong soil this year...while they are<br />
slowly growing, by now we should have a<br />
boat load of tomatoes!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTyBqKXBMophA2VGDhlPMY3P2pJO_54fobcQIMN2kNqkuvNUJNEzLhyQoFinhZy_CBb-F1373hO2ZNpVWsMtl4CoAxnTqyuChSdtmC0pGRgkX9UVNPehlhHfvPgRbBGJXd5_l2Dj_8Oc/s1600/MousekinHouseCrop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTyBqKXBMophA2VGDhlPMY3P2pJO_54fobcQIMN2kNqkuvNUJNEzLhyQoFinhZy_CBb-F1373hO2ZNpVWsMtl4CoAxnTqyuChSdtmC0pGRgkX9UVNPehlhHfvPgRbBGJXd5_l2Dj_8Oc/s400/MousekinHouseCrop.JPG" width="352" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is where Mousekin lives...though, I think he's on vacation.<br />
I haven't seen him in a while.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1nFGQ0gsZYGaLJlV8H_X_V20fglLD4jozDfpcwvmqDurv_kYFfPQS2Kg3s2AgNUVNFLIm7tjXHuT_XwSdnLToCXHIDt_ehVGEOxWdlQMZXNH3M9gV-MyJnggQVw3qKSl4OcHM9czOIo/s640/GardenRabbitPeaceSticks.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="425" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is our resident garden rabbit.<br />
He is patiently waiting for the garden to break out<br />
in colorful blooms and foliage.<br />
Patiently being the operative word......</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBJhMKC8AB4uG5hNO1uCsn9ze5OQxVVHWSrcopJtdxcRR8ZsN3H6UK3rgUMCDHgVA1x2JclLV4TvZ4L5AJL33eL-Z1aobA1YPQWpcKnEy5ChEygzwvaACKo7gGZO1rwdX-DFkDNbJD-I/s1600/PeaceSticks.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBJhMKC8AB4uG5hNO1uCsn9ze5OQxVVHWSrcopJtdxcRR8ZsN3H6UK3rgUMCDHgVA1x2JclLV4TvZ4L5AJL33eL-Z1aobA1YPQWpcKnEy5ChEygzwvaACKo7gGZO1rwdX-DFkDNbJD-I/s400/PeaceSticks.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In an attempt to add some color to the shriveled-up landscape,<br />
he is sporting a new collection of brightly painted Peace Sticks.<br />
That works for me.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a 'prediction' of an El Nino this fall...a lot of buzz...maybe 30"! Could this be just another crystal ball, wishful thinking forecast possibility? I guess we will have to just wait and see......Film @ 11.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...maybe I should look into an ark?</span></span></div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-56253656395046873632014-12-02T11:54:00.000-08:002014-12-02T11:54:24.678-08:00The Christmas Earrings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURaEr2WWisqtFHyj6t_EPy1jYUju-ZqXjLOahPfZNTGHDTbIBZhhx6IiENgOZty-lSAAsxgqgaS_Tu56TYRVOPVpVyVeX8lqFUUWUa_acXRAvnSfz9xRvCtJB6sg5CbHGRkYtMkse2Bw/s1600/bellERed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURaEr2WWisqtFHyj6t_EPy1jYUju-ZqXjLOahPfZNTGHDTbIBZhhx6IiENgOZty-lSAAsxgqgaS_Tu56TYRVOPVpVyVeX8lqFUUWUa_acXRAvnSfz9xRvCtJB6sg5CbHGRkYtMkse2Bw/s1600/bellERed.JPG" height="302" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">One of my all-time, most cherished Christmas gifts I have received was from my son 22 years ago. He had gone with his 1st grade class to
the church Christmas boutique. There, they had a special table for children to
shop for inexpensive, homemade trinkets. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He came home with a little box, tied
up with green ribbon and gave it to me before Christmas. "You need these
now!" he said. His anticipation was electric. I slowly opened the box, and
inside were a pair of tiny jingle bell earrings. Each one had three bells ~
red, green and gold. I have worn those earrings every year since! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And, then, one year not too long ago, probably while taking off
my jacket or scarf one day, I lost one of those earrings. I was
heartbroken....it was like losing a diamond.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Thinking about the joy on my son's
face as he gave me his gift those many years ago still warms my heart. That
will always be one of the best gifts I have ever received!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjMvxbFWCWR7rp9pK5CEZ8DNG3NqzhUJI8QAjU812GN_Z2c3X8WPmoZKi6zQ5AXZ-nxpq5hr8UqHiYmUgVRA2kMbnuCWngIAYWpICW94KTtfI5NFn0Z2jsxmbd_ZP_vNKsNRQUYvrm4U/s1600/P1180025crop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjMvxbFWCWR7rp9pK5CEZ8DNG3NqzhUJI8QAjU812GN_Z2c3X8WPmoZKi6zQ5AXZ-nxpq5hr8UqHiYmUgVRA2kMbnuCWngIAYWpICW94KTtfI5NFn0Z2jsxmbd_ZP_vNKsNRQUYvrm4U/s1600/P1180025crop.JPG" height="587" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Post Script ~</i></div>
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Last year, while reorganizing the bedroom, I found my missing earring behind the dresser! You can only imagine my delight in finding that little treasure! Merry Christmas! </i></div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-63964445810415555952014-08-07T11:10:00.003-07:002014-08-07T11:10:27.021-07:00....A Week Later....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9PU9XaPkQ_gnUwX9B8ivZUunWv018Pjx2pf25PQtZrZnmAiV77LKnoJalayshbabvJm1vdA6VL70XqMvYQ7NcYegWn97Db7kiA7OIWtKWvFt90ghtIuAmog9P3zpZ_QQP8Hc3wFVqmCE/s1600/RoxieStamp2ED.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9PU9XaPkQ_gnUwX9B8ivZUunWv018Pjx2pf25PQtZrZnmAiV77LKnoJalayshbabvJm1vdA6VL70XqMvYQ7NcYegWn97Db7kiA7OIWtKWvFt90ghtIuAmog9P3zpZ_QQP8Hc3wFVqmCE/s1600/RoxieStamp2ED.JPG" height="183" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The house is too quiet ... the silence ~ deafening. I desperately want to hear the jingle of her tags as she shakes, stretches and rearranges the blanket on her bed in the night's darkness. I miss her calm, even snore as she settles back into a deep sleep.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The morning routine is anything but. Her eyes are no longer watching my every move....from the bed...to the shower...from the floor of the closet while I'm getting dressed. I walk down the stairs solo....there are no mighty paws at my heels.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">I miss her sitting by the front door, patiently waiting for me to put on my shoes and grab the phone and lead. I miss her eager anticipation of walking out onto the porch to discover the tiny treats Dona has left for her.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Stealth dog is not laying where I can trip over her ... she's not here to snatch up the bits of food that have hit the floor while I cook. She no longer magically appears as I butter the raisin toast. She is not here to lend an ear when I want to confide in her....or, to give me juicy kisses....or, to paw my leg when she wants a treat. And, she isn't here to walk with me. Yep. It's too damn quiet.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 'new normal' leg of my journey has begun ...and it sucks.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I miss her so much. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">My Roxie Girl. </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><b>♥</b></span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAytsAPNB5bz5JhliAOIz-j8fR9aXWw_wKoSgx5yQGReZ6eVElXy2inCdTIxN__vD34yLLRgReduBCoJw-KDc5EJyV50hadtAxb8p_VWz8mT4rq8ReQKfV8HiSkTDWUV21nvIEY_30KY/s1600/photo+2+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAytsAPNB5bz5JhliAOIz-j8fR9aXWw_wKoSgx5yQGReZ6eVElXy2inCdTIxN__vD34yLLRgReduBCoJw-KDc5EJyV50hadtAxb8p_VWz8mT4rq8ReQKfV8HiSkTDWUV21nvIEY_30KY/s1600/photo+2+(2).JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roxie and I try a "Selfie"</td></tr>
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<br />peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-62527435891500536362014-08-01T08:09:00.000-07:002014-08-01T08:23:31.739-07:00You stole my heart, Roxie Girl...♥<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Sometimes, they are only in our lives for a short time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">For us, it was love at first sight.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">We are so glad you came into ours dear, darling Roxie.</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She was</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"> my girl.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...I miss you, Roxie Girl. <span style="color: #990000;">♥</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Adopted April, 2012</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">February 1, 2001 ~ July 30, 2014</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>♥</b></span></span></div>
peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-37525883083267248342014-07-21T10:07:00.000-07:002014-07-21T13:49:55.772-07:00Mockingbird Serenade<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit 'em, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but remember </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">~ Atticus Finch</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u style="font-style: italic;">To Kill a Mockingbird</u> by Harper Lee</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the last couple of weeks, we have been serenaded by two mockingbirds. On 'opening night', one had found a perch on the top of the power pole just outside our bedroom window. His repertoire was not only absolutely amazing...it was quite loud and continued for what seemed to be hours. As I lay there listening, I was fascinated with all of the different songs it knew; how many of them had choruses in groups of three and how there was little repetition. He even had the bark of a squirrel down to a tee!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After two nights of this gig we had a brief reprieve. However, it now seems the show has been extended indefinitely. Charlie is threatening to take action if it doesn't take the show on the road! This reminded me of the quote above...of which I gently shared with Charlie. I will admit it is hard to ignore the serenade. Shortly after we are asleep, the songs begin and we are once again awake. While sleep eluded us, I laid there listening...thinking...and remembered a story about some mockingbirds that were in our garden a few years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>June ~ 2006</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We spent the weekend working in the garden. It was going to be another hot day ~ 90 degrees! So, we started early hoping to beat the heat. While I was busily snipping and dead-heading the climbing rose bush (next to the patio), birds were squawking <i style="font-weight: bold;">everywhere</i>! I looked up and discovered a brambly stick nest with three baby mockingbirds ~ mouths wide open ~ peeping merrily. Behind me, hanging on the string of party lights was the parent, watching my every move.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I carefully, but quickly, backed off...all the while apologizing to him/her. The parent buzzed in, deposited</span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> bits of something into each mouth and was off again. The babies went silent until the parents returned. This continued all afternoon...peeping and eating.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Several nights later, I looked out the dining room window and saw a little puffy, rolly-poly bird standing on the driveway, beak in the air...peeping softly...almost in question form, while watching the sky.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Snippet from my garden journal...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I called to Charlie and told him one of the baby birds was out. He went out back to check the nest and discovered the birds had left the nest! We heard one by the wall fountain, we <u>knew</u> one was on the driveway...where was #3? I went back to the bush and there he was...straddling two small branches next to the nest, obviously not keen on jumping just yet!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I returned to the driveway to check on bird #1...and came around the corner just in time to see him hop under the gate to the front of the house! Cat central!!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">...another snippet from my garden journal...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH3V1jTJJSuHDc0mLYQwSfGDcpcQ7eCLTAUDwGtqwvzZjFt2eerW_kbieD5nJ630pUmW9K0BQ6uOxI8xMDf-Bl4_IFkWRvjGJH1XaCwNjIsqG-ZBlviBkiR52Xep5D7itzakUNCJEZECg/s1600/23b648f0-af74-42f4-9daf-551d8b6e3014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH3V1jTJJSuHDc0mLYQwSfGDcpcQ7eCLTAUDwGtqwvzZjFt2eerW_kbieD5nJ630pUmW9K0BQ6uOxI8xMDf-Bl4_IFkWRvjGJH1XaCwNjIsqG-ZBlviBkiR52Xep5D7itzakUNCJEZECg/s1600/23b648f0-af74-42f4-9daf-551d8b6e3014.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I followed him. He found a nice, dark, cool place just to the left of the gate by the corner of the wall. There were several large bags of mulch and potting soil next to the wall. On the ground, kind of behind/under the stack of bags, there was a bunch of old leaves, dirt and dog fuzz that had collected over the winter. In went the bird...and again the peeping began. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the sun set, I went out to take roll one more time before bed. The driveway bird had returned from his brief and daring trip under the gate and was now under the stack of plastic chairs between the garage and log rack...and still sending up 'peeps'. The bird in the brambles hadn't moved and the one by the fountain could still be heard...nighty night, little ones!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning, before leaving for work, I purposely closed the gate that separated the driveway from the back garden so the dogs would remain in the back yard and leave the little bird alone.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I returned home, I headed to the back garden to see if the birds had regrouped. I opened the back door and Pete jumped up to greet me. Annie was lounging on the walkway, sitting like the Sphinx...with her front paws crossed. In between her paws lay one of the baby mockingbirds. Annie looked at me and without thinking, I said loudly, "No, Annie! OOHH!!!" Of course, remorse immediately set in; she didn't know why I was upset. She <u>was</u> taking care of the baby bird. I think she thought it was someone to play with. Unfortunately, the little bird was loved to death. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not sure which bird Annie had, but she was guarding its limp little body as if it were her own baby.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Circle of Life ~ Nature's way of checks and balances...necessary, sure. Still, I was saddened to know one of the birds wad dead. And, my heart went out to the parent birds. They had worked 24/7, flying back and forth with food to the nest. One was always close by, keeping an eye on the kids in the nest.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While we didn't see the remaining two babies again, we did hear them in the distance, peeping their signal to their parents for a few days more. Then, the silence that followed told us that the babies had taken flight. This story, while bittersweet, continues to remind us that there is always something going on in the garden...and we need to take the time to stop, watch and listen. There are many more stories yet to come! </span><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>♥</b></span></div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-14649516842184697232014-05-09T16:34:00.002-07:002014-05-10T15:12:19.266-07:00What Happened to April?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Does anyone know what happened to April? </div>
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Does anyone really know what time it is????</div>
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Shortly after Charlie's big birthday celebration, I had expected to have some down time to work on my blog, catch up on my organizing and work in my studio. Distraction hit in early April and we were off to Tucson for a 50th year celebration of the Kon Tiki Restaurant!<br />
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Four days of party and visiting family. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">My cousin, CB, Leslie, me and my Big Kahuna, Chuck!</span></div>
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After that, things are a bit of a blur.</div>
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So, dear blog friends....don't give up on me! There will be a new post soon!!!</div>
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~ peg</div>
<br />peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-77550618334902625432014-03-20T13:05:00.001-07:002014-03-20T13:05:56.672-07:00Charlie's 55th Birthday Celebration!<br />
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Here it is....March 21st (already)...</div>
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and I just can not wrap my head around how time is flying! </div>
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I mean, really! Warp speed!</div>
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Charlie's 55th Birthday was last week. </div>
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Our son, Whitney, came up to celebrate with us. </div>
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What Charlie didn't know was that Stephanie</div>
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(Whitney's BFF) was coming with him!</div>
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As planned, we poured drinks and then went straight to game time! </div>
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I ran across a vintage copy of Password in the window seat...<br />
and needless to say, it was such a blast!</div>
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Dinner included barbecued fish, steamed broccoli and organic rice. </div>
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Charlie manned the bar-b-cue and Whitney handled the side dishes. Stephanie helped....</div>
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It's always a party when these two get together!!!</div>
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After dinner, it was time for chocolate cake! YUM! </div>
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Then, of course, it was time for PRESENTS!</div>
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A vintage Tiki mug from Whitney & Stephanie.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjybxTVRGpxa1QFTJfY-gExOPQ6bc-qeOoWGFfleDyShq1Y93OD2BA5QVGQErm81ilIyXS5FDm6YAphLUZZhypdjtIhsslaHdOcCs0354qsyh3SDgrl1UWa_g7EzmbITzIGNCFkNW9MDk/s1600/P1180722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjybxTVRGpxa1QFTJfY-gExOPQ6bc-qeOoWGFfleDyShq1Y93OD2BA5QVGQErm81ilIyXS5FDm6YAphLUZZhypdjtIhsslaHdOcCs0354qsyh3SDgrl1UWa_g7EzmbITzIGNCFkNW9MDk/s1600/P1180722.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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A new Charlie Brown mug from Charlie's God Daughter, Mia.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSzlxio3BlA66cQ4pkRRjMmfKoTEi09FDN2kSsKMegR4TG547QdI8CW5TCbR1o2CjnaNesvs1A4BbbCR8No1SB8YX-YoT5MFJFb-N0ZJAqul8YC7MuqVzt1-Kxly_GwL73B0XmVPR1sI/s1600/P1180724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSzlxio3BlA66cQ4pkRRjMmfKoTEi09FDN2kSsKMegR4TG547QdI8CW5TCbR1o2CjnaNesvs1A4BbbCR8No1SB8YX-YoT5MFJFb-N0ZJAqul8YC7MuqVzt1-Kxly_GwL73B0XmVPR1sI/s1600/P1180724.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And, a new hoodie/jacket with a tropical logo to wear </div>
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to the Kon Tiki in April!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsh5rPx6dqWCGmpNrxh-nTVjnQCGEZrovtGVLRAJgNETpBLAuLkE2QhlpEKGNjcvACIYr79PjnPWWMaaJCr3YGjFOOkleNC-bScm3fLF8-im4w9pibIeXhbQqiQ6fgTuD45lO7g6XbaM/s1600/P1180699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsh5rPx6dqWCGmpNrxh-nTVjnQCGEZrovtGVLRAJgNETpBLAuLkE2QhlpEKGNjcvACIYr79PjnPWWMaaJCr3YGjFOOkleNC-bScm3fLF8-im4w9pibIeXhbQqiQ6fgTuD45lO7g6XbaM/s1600/P1180699.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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A great time was had by all! </div>
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Happy Birthday, Charlie!</div>
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<br />peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-3572506676842782052014-03-11T13:25:00.002-07:002014-03-11T13:25:29.434-07:00Sometimes I hate Technology!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dear Blog Followers....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Apparently, there seems to be a blog glitch and I have been unable to upload photos or updates.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Do know that I am still here...trying to figure out why suddenly I cannot post new posts to the Scattered Journalist.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">....film at 11.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">~ peg</span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-37291005775756423522013-11-24T15:05:00.001-08:002013-11-24T15:45:47.074-08:00The Season of Giving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">It's the most Wonderful time of the year!</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the time of year when we count our blessings and plan our gift-giving. It won't be long before Santa begins his annual journey 'round the world! We plan feasts, we bake and create and we shop until we drop (well, almost!). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We think about all of the people who have come into our lives, people who have made a difference in some way during the year...friends, loved ones...strangers. It is during this reflection, interestingly enough, that I find myself wishing that I could give back to each one with a little remembrance. A little thank you for the smile they shared, the phone call they made, the time they took to listen to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was small, gift giving centered around the children. Grandparents, parents, friends and Santa showered us with surprises that were lovingly left under the Christmas tree. My mom always said that Christmas is for the children. Now in my 60's, I continue to embrace the magic of giving. While I strive to work in my studio year-round, I especially love to create at this time of year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Our kitchen is always awhirl with activity!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Trays and trays of shortbread, pounds of espresso chocolate bark,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">loaves of pumpkin bread </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and lots of </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">peanut brittle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> are prepared annually for everyone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Special attention is given to the wrapping to complete the presentation!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The advent calendar reminds us of the approaching celebration.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Nativity is gently unpacked and displayed.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Special <em>♫ </em>notes ♪ ♪ are handwritten inside Christmas cards. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Christmas tree takes its place in the corner of the room and </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">waits to be adorned with colorful lights and decorative treasures. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Art projects of long ago reappear just in time for the holidays!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stocking stuffers are carefully selected for </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">each recipient and wrapped with love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Letters of wishes are written and left for Santa with a cup of milk and </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">homemade cookies. Bits of carrot are left for the reindeer.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like a well rehearsed dance, we repeat each wonderful tradition year after year. Silently, without even thinking about it...the traditions are renewed and embraced with love. These small gestures are gifts from the heart. Many don't cost a dime and yet, they are all priceless. With every ornament we hang, every task we complete, we are giving with love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So, as the season of giving begins, may your preparations be wrapped with love. Give with your heart....it's the thought that counts! I'm looking forward to the hustle and bustle of baking and creating! I hope you are, too! <span style="color: #660000;"><strong> ♥</strong></span></span></div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-70332524580135385802013-09-18T07:44:00.001-07:002013-09-18T11:27:35.804-07:00Autumn Bliss<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We have just bid farewell to a very hot and very humid summer. And, as I went about my errands last week, I noticed that the merchandise in the markets and specialty stores had quietly shifted from beach gear to wool jackets, flannel shirts and faux pumpkins. Swags of decorative synthetic fall leaves are strung up everywhere. Bags of miniature candy bars line the grocery shelves. September's morning sky is streaked with pink as it weaves in and out of wispy clouds. We can feel the shift in the weather....we catch the subtle hint of dampness in the wee hours of the morning. And, we want to bring out the quilts, lay a fire in the fireplace and bake cookies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">What is it about Autumn that reels us in? Acorn fever (the love of Autumn) is stealth in its approach...but even when I am not looking for it, I know immediately when the first hint makes its presence known. It very often times comes on the heels of my birthday in July. Just a hint... Sometimes its the way the gentle breeze switches direction. Other times, its the damp warm September dew that appears on the grass. I can't help but take a deep breath and feel myself re-center. The delicious anticipation of my favorite season sends me to the moon and back. Autumn. When the leaves begin to change...orange, yellow and rust... and acorns begin to fall and scatter on the road.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Children are back in school and I am reminded of a line from You've Got Mail..."Don't you love New York in the Fall? It makes me want to by school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." That is so me. I did that, too, one year. I sent a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils to my husband at work. And, I was thrilled that he knew exactly what I was saying!!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Autumn. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Each year, in early October we return to Yosemite National Park. We honeymooned here in 1985 ~ four nights in a cabin without a bath. We had rain, cold crisp mornings and no crowds. I think we've only missed two years since that trip. This annual trek is a magical time...days without a plan. Nights with starry skies and the sound of owls hooting in the distance. </span><br />
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Fresh air. Bike rides. Lots and lots of picture taking. Like we are seeing it for the first time...again!!!</div>
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In the evening, before dinner (and, sometimes after dinner) we sit out on the porch of our cabin to enjoy the sunset. We are in no hurry. We have a drink, kick back and rediscover what a vacation is really supposed to be. </div>
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Autumn.</div>
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Nature is at its peek in the fall. We take pictures of fallen leaves....every one, a different specimen. Milkweed pods pop open and release their feathery seeds. They sail just above the meadows on the tiniest of breezes. </div>
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Sometimes it takes just one leaf to start the ball rolling......</div>
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An afternoon autumn shower will find us back at the cabin...</div>
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just inside the door...listening to the rain's opus.....</div>
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A walk after the rains brings us to moss covered boulders. The cracks and crevices are highlighted by the light from the overcast sky. </div>
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Here are some of the treasures we found on our walk. </div>
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I love the lacey leaves...</div>
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Can you feel Autumn? See it? Even in black and white, it is so pronounced! </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(I was trying out my 'Ansel Adams' setting on my camera....it came out pretty good, I think!).</span></div>
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As we walked down the bike path towards the Chapel, we noticed a bit </div>
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of color peeking thru the evergreens. </div>
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Oo0oOO0ooo! </div>
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Deep breath..... I did not want to hurry ahead.</div>
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I needed to walk s-l-o-w-l-y.</div>
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...savoring each step as we got closer. </div>
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We walked around the bend....and, then, like the sun after a storm.....</div>
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...Autumn! </div>
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It is overcast this morning....the sky is getting light....time for our morning walk. Roxie stands at the ready as I grab my phone, my keys and the lead. And, this morning, I'm wearing my flannel shirt. </div>
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It's Autumn!!!!</div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-86527390259135804552013-07-30T12:49:00.000-07:002013-07-30T12:49:29.546-07:00Birthday Eve<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Roxie and I walked this morning...and, since we have doubled our route she seems to think we need to do it at double speed! 1.2 miles in just 20 minutes! Holy moly, Lady Poops-a-Lot, let me try to keep up!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Actually, it's a beautiful morning and I have done the basic, daily chores (fill the fountains, p/up random Roxie droppings, emptied the dishwasher, two loads of laundry, pulled some more-than-dead plants from the sizzled-out garden, hauled the trash containers to the curb....oh, and made the bed)...and now, the breeze is sailing through the big pine outside...cool and delicious!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I was going to go down into the studio this morning...but got side-tracked by some packages that came in the mail. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">You see, tomorrow is my 62nd birthday. My family, close friends, and (former) co-workers will tell you that I prefer to be out of the lime-light when it comes to my birthday. It's not that I don't enjoy a celebration....it's just...well, you know....sometimes a bit awkward. So when the packages started to arrive (I do love snail mail, btw!)...I decided not to wait...and opened them up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">First up, a book on 10,001 Easy Solutions to Everyday Problems from my sister, Candy and her family. Truly, a fun collection of household helping trivia!!! Who knew that soaking a baking dish with stuck-on grease can be easily remedied simply by sprinkling with water and a bit of table salt??? This will be a handy, go to book for sure!!!</span><br />
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Then, a well-traveled box arrived with a familiar stamp on the corner ('reuse me')...and I knew immediately that this was from my long time friend and partner-in-crime-during-our-teenage-years, Tisa. (She had reused the box I had sent her birthday gift in!).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgtG0gIa1h4lP30esPQKm0cKjqvGOA3KFp1m1kVL7JmgdrQhY8gYivDUmtZe6IDkqXcDXKsiDJbLoqYSyL8qupvZAB15zFbZ4nCwmukDWXHCKSmYsyIQ1hxw17WUGHH8pM0Y17ZVLeZk/s1600/P1160527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgtG0gIa1h4lP30esPQKm0cKjqvGOA3KFp1m1kVL7JmgdrQhY8gYivDUmtZe6IDkqXcDXKsiDJbLoqYSyL8qupvZAB15zFbZ4nCwmukDWXHCKSmYsyIQ1hxw17WUGHH8pM0Y17ZVLeZk/s320/P1160527.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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What a great blast-from-the-past! Tisa and I had discovered and fallen in love with the works of Rod McKuen during those formative, teenage years. We discovered his poetry and his LPs: The Sea.....The Earth....The Sky. His narratives put to inspirational music. Well loved....well worn...played often! And, still play with just a bit of scattered skips and pops. I will certainly enjoy reading his work again!!!<br />
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A third package arrived (sounds almost like Christmas, doesn't it?). Look what I found inside!!!<br />
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Susan Branch's brand new, hot-off-the-press book, <u>A Fine Romance ~ Falling in love with the English Countryside</u>! Susan and the friends at the studio (Kellee, Sherri, Alfredo and Bonnie) popped it into the mail the day the eleven pallets of books were delivered!!! It even has a little ribbon bookmark!!!<br />
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As the facilitator of the Friends of Susan Branch Facebook page (the gals at the studio call me the 'President'), we (the Susan Branch fans all over the world and I) have been anxiously waiting to see this journal of her 2012 trip to England. A labor of love to be sure and a year in the making...it is so exciting to finally see it up close and personal!<br />
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A card from Dad was in the mail, too, with a wonderful birthday check! This will be earmarked for either additional art tools and supplies or shopping when we are in Yosemite or the central coast this fall. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH_rg6ghoLzy4eItDsvHerPcbMsyFcrqgxEezTt1-oMMGd5NP73wAdQuQVD6LPBm0A7NdKU5jg4HbTuHWnZt7qMNDUsW3-vRkHY0eOXGbRuGFUM1FmUECCYH8TFLcn0xdcg0EgVLewk8/s1600/P1150898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH_rg6ghoLzy4eItDsvHerPcbMsyFcrqgxEezTt1-oMMGd5NP73wAdQuQVD6LPBm0A7NdKU5jg4HbTuHWnZt7qMNDUsW3-vRkHY0eOXGbRuGFUM1FmUECCYH8TFLcn0xdcg0EgVLewk8/s320/P1150898.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dad and me. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">He's been a <u>parent</u> for 62 years!</span></div>
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So, birthday #62 is under way...quietly...with the gentle breeze in the trees outside and surprises in the mailbox from friends and loved ones. Perfect. <span style="color: #660000;">♥</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">...btw....this 62-thing is just that....who feels 62?!!!</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-46739725141724290642013-07-02T14:44:00.001-07:002013-07-02T14:44:25.579-07:00The Fountain of Pearls
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I grew up in South Pasadena. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in the day, the 4th of July was really boring because fireworks were not permitted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> One year, just a couple of days</span> before the 4<sup>th</sup>, my friend, Tisa and I
hopped on our bicycles and rode to Alhambra where the Unimart/Disco Fair/Two Guys,
a membership department store, was (I’m not sure which one it was at the time!). We headed for the fireworks stand that was on the end of the store parking lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> After much window shopping, w</span>e selected a packet of snake pellets and a
Fountain of Pearls. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the 4<sup>th</sup> of July, my grandparents had
come over to our house to play cards and have barbecue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After dinner, the bridge game resumed so I
went outside to meet Tisa. She had her overnight tote, ready for another sleep-over. After depositing her stuff upstairs in my bedroom, I grabbed the bag of fireworks and we went out to the front yard.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While we waited for the sun to set, we lit the
snake pellets and watched as they expanded into a trail of ash. It seemed like
it was taking forever for it to get dark. Just before the sun began to sink below
the horizon, we came up with a scathingly brilliant idea. We thought it would
be funny to paint a ‘stop line’ on the street across from my house. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ran to my garage and found a can of white
spray paint. Back on the street, we carefully painted a line from the curb to
the center of the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We painted the
word “STOP” beneath the line. It almost looked official! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
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Finally, <span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it was dark and
time for the Fountain of Pearls!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We set
the cone-shaped firework in the middle of the street and Tisa lit it. We quickly
sat down on the curb and watched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It began
to spit and sputter and then.....nothing! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
stared in disbelief! We were sure we had been gypped!</span> <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a long, anxious pause the sparks began to
shoot up. A few short, scattered sparks sputtered first...then, the display shot into
the night sky nearly two stories high!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
cone exploded with sparks rocketing straight up, illuminating the entire street!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We started laughing hysterically! The roar of
the firework shower continued for what seemed to be forever! We began to wonder
if it was ever going to stop!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAatuULA2vyxfDccKypawn0P5P4sQqNcdT3qMBH_RXxETWzJRMWs0nj7onnhjc-w2Jes_QNOw1a3X48Xgb3v3KDQeFkDnObVetYwolzJf6wEHE162avXod_rkV4ImRiu-QRGoc0HBuM8g/s377/fireworks.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAatuULA2vyxfDccKypawn0P5P4sQqNcdT3qMBH_RXxETWzJRMWs0nj7onnhjc-w2Jes_QNOw1a3X48Xgb3v3KDQeFkDnObVetYwolzJf6wEHE162avXod_rkV4ImRiu-QRGoc0HBuM8g/s320/fireworks.JPG" width="216" /></a></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hearing the commotion and seeing the bright
‘something’ in the street, my parents and grandparents jumped up, dashed out
the front door and stood on the front porch, watching in disbelief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This made it even funnier!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dad, however, was not amused. A few selective
words were exchanged between my parents before the adults retreated into the
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tisa and I began to laugh
again.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We sat there on the curb, hysterical with laughter,
retelling the story and laughing into the night. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point, a car came down the street and
suddenly slammed on its breaks right in front of us, stopping at our faux ‘stop
line’! Another round of laughter ensued! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, when we had caught our breath and had settled down, we knew it was time to call it a night. When we were sure we were all laughed-out, we returned to my house....via the back door! As we climbed up the stairs, the sound of our muffled giggles indicated to my parents that we were safely inside for the night.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Tisa and me</span></div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-86133504898440632712013-04-25T09:31:00.000-07:002013-04-25T10:28:11.831-07:00Mrs. Wallace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqFXU-PrDj1BeV3MsQsbA41IcKpyMSlgJmNox_A2oKu4Id99Mkb-IJQEHUT3unMrtpp_3Fo72-_ZUvY9dLoczqPUHW-ZpEHI_McpgUr2iOP9dxKjscC7HzqG1sVjWuYrOhMDCYeMwpoU/s1600/Over+the+Moon+2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqFXU-PrDj1BeV3MsQsbA41IcKpyMSlgJmNox_A2oKu4Id99Mkb-IJQEHUT3unMrtpp_3Fo72-_ZUvY9dLoczqPUHW-ZpEHI_McpgUr2iOP9dxKjscC7HzqG1sVjWuYrOhMDCYeMwpoU/s320/Over+the+Moon+2009.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Early one summer night (2010), at 7:45 p.m., I heard a lawnmower fire up. I couldn't determine where this was coming from or who was doing lawn work <u>at</u> dark on a <u>work </u>night. I went out on the front porch and listened ~ . It seemed to be coming from a house around the corner. We hadn't seen the owners in years and I think probably both owners are deceased now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The wife died years ago. I would often see her working in her garden. To the casual observer, the tiny front yard was just a plot of over grown grasses and weeds; dead flowers that were now dry and brittle sticks with heads shriveled and brown leaves scattered beneath ~ remnants of glorious blooms from long ago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Dressed in her down vest, I would see her shuffle up to the tall grass or a petrified rose bush, and slowly work in one area or another. Her gnarled fingers addressed each plant as if it were a prized specimen. I imagine, to her, the garden was in full bloom ~ wild grasses dancing in the breeze and big cabbage roses, fragrant and plentiful. Neat and tidy paths of old red brick led her from plant to tree to bush. She never spoke but quietly pruned and plucked all that did not 'belong'. She would spend hours grooming her tiny garden until it got too cool or the sun began to sink. Then, almost reluctantly, she would straighten her small frame a bit and toddle back to the house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Every so often, a lone sunflower or a stray cluster of morning glories from previous seasons would appear, unannounced and never in the same place. To her, those little sprinkles of color must have been like diamonds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Just recently, I learned the family name was Wallace. I never met Mrs. Wallace; she never spoke or acknowledged me when Annie, Pete and I would pass by on our walks. Yet I think we were kindred spirits...both loving our gardens and the beauty they held. </span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-32388380228128653952013-02-19T10:12:00.000-08:002013-02-19T11:39:20.465-08:00"Tut, Tut! It Looks Like Rain!" ~ Winnie the Pooh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">What is it about dark, cloudy, rainy days? Why do they stir up so many memories...and, the uncontrollable urge to want to bake?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Like this morning...as I was checking email and facebook, I looked out the window and suddenly, I flashed back to Oneonta Elementary school. The old fashioned cast iron heater in the corner of the classroom clicking and ticking as it attempted to eliminate the chill. The coat closet stuffed with jackets, sweaters and rain boots. The BIG windows allowing for a great view to watch the rain instead of listening to the teacher! Oh, and inside games for recess...Head's Up, 7Up and Bacon, bacon, who has the bacon?. If it was pouring (and when you were a kid, it always poured), everyone ate lunch in the Cafetorium, whether you ate the hot lunch or brought a lunch from home. The packed Cafetorium was filled with chit-chat and laughter as we ate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The smell of fresh rain makes me want to bake peanut butter cookies. I have no clue why...but that is the first thing that pops into my head when the rain begins to fall!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I remember Winnie the Pooh as the little black rain cloud. Thanks to videos, we watched the adventures of Pooh and his friends many, many times. "Tut, tut! It looks like rain!" Pooh would declare....and next thing you knew, he'd be sailing into the air on the end of a balloon!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">When I was growing up, we never stayed inside just because it was raining. We built forts, covered them with tarps and hung out until we were drenched or frozen! Our garage never saw a car. The few odd pieces of furniture stored inside were often rearranged for a club house. There was a large, deep, heavy-duty shelf built in the back. We set up a ladder next to it; this was our staircase. Up on the shelf, we moved the boxes to one side, drape them in sheets to make a second floor! Suddenly, our club house became a haunted house! We spent many afternoons mystery-making and adventure-creating, conjuring up all sorts characters and props.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">On rainy Saturday afternoons, we often times would watch Creature Features on channel 9. Black and white murder mysteries and monster movies kept our attention as we munched on freshly popped popcorn. Our favorites included Dracula and the many Vincent Price classics, including ~ The House of Wax and the House on Haunted Hill.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawCs_LJlkRbjqdVKLsT5x-kTqtxI9SWWQYXXZMyj63AxKmv_yGbhhkX848HGeZ_EkNZ-CyuRl_iFhq3HHKewWFD8xsRb-jUv2LBP9OI6Zk6YzqRFnAScJp2dsmNphoviWHmKqLWRw9qM/s1600/Creature+Features.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawCs_LJlkRbjqdVKLsT5x-kTqtxI9SWWQYXXZMyj63AxKmv_yGbhhkX848HGeZ_EkNZ-CyuRl_iFhq3HHKewWFD8xsRb-jUv2LBP9OI6Zk6YzqRFnAScJp2dsmNphoviWHmKqLWRw9qM/s320/Creature+Features.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Board games were a great way to spend a wet afternoon. Monopoly and Clue were favorites. Col. Mustard in the Library with the Lead Pipe....loved that game! Depending on who was home and how many friends were over would dictate who did what. If there was a bunch of us, we would sit around the dining room table and play Hearts or Spades.</span><br />
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The Carpenters used to sing about rainy days.....</div>
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♫ ♪ ♫ Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down. ♪ ♫ ♪ </div>
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I love rainy days. They don't get me down...they are a perfect excuse for slowing down...for reading, baking, cooking, and working in the studio. I like the calming, whooshing sounds cars make on the wet street as they pass by. The tapping of the rain drops on the window is music to my ears. <br />
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There is something quite magical about a walk in the rain (when properly dressed, that is). Watching rain drops dancing on the puddles, leafy vessels sailing down the street's gutters...the cool, crisp dampness kissing my cheek...love it, love it, love it!</div>
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Yes, I love rainy days. </div>
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peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-43894595240399051282013-01-26T07:59:00.000-08:002013-01-26T08:32:42.628-08:00Tea for Two<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is nothing quite like afternoon tea. How this lovely Victorian ritual disappeared from afternoon tradition I will never know. After discovering a Tea Room in Monrovia, I am convinced that we are definitely missing out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It all began with the approach of my dear friend, Joyce's birthday. I wanted to do something different that year (1993); something that maybe would be new to her. I had learned about a vintage clothing shop that had a tea room in Monrovia called <u><strong>Frills</strong></u>. Intrigued, I decided to take a drive and check it out.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JDIL1lvTEF_HbrQg6i_NwwIQR8vfafUol2_SBySYxPTV6Bv336krXn3QomVzjm9pMUfeqh5PH9u32WWQsPtldkIP1474x4B5P1ldsR8Urs3G-lcx-r42_PI8RUBlcVFmVlDX8yhOY_E/s1600/Frills+line+drawing+front006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JDIL1lvTEF_HbrQg6i_NwwIQR8vfafUol2_SBySYxPTV6Bv336krXn3QomVzjm9pMUfeqh5PH9u32WWQsPtldkIP1474x4B5P1ldsR8Urs3G-lcx-r42_PI8RUBlcVFmVlDX8yhOY_E/s400/Frills+line+drawing+front006.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The shop was jam packed with all sorts of vintage clothing, hats, button-up shoes, jewelry, greeting cards and gifts. I wandered through the aisles, taking it all in. Nestled at the back of the shop was this charming tea room.Of course, nothing matched anything and each table had it's own shape and one-of-a-kind chairs. What a <u>perfect</u> place to go for a celebration! I glanced at the menu and asked to make a reservation. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUa4SU2PlM7Ja4M_LoNHwZeVcAT5HT62QiQwGIusI03sGnnjNDvsNtK6EjKVxM7u8yQS32D1IICCm1mv0xiVNnAHAaFieudNVxD1ugAdEa7zQXeZqBRM8okQ7xMKVwl24e-dVok1IXGnU/s1600/Frills+menu001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUa4SU2PlM7Ja4M_LoNHwZeVcAT5HT62QiQwGIusI03sGnnjNDvsNtK6EjKVxM7u8yQS32D1IICCm1mv0xiVNnAHAaFieudNVxD1ugAdEa7zQXeZqBRM8okQ7xMKVwl24e-dVok1IXGnU/s200/Frills+menu001.jpg" width="125" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXbsOj5knwkCpsxNafyVVA5NKy7Hl7D2bFU1T4E5HQplNMN3RQIlJn_YLMSm_7eDhEuulftDb2ft2idirUH4yHpvAKZspsDbwkDE4iNW3GfEHWU2D4PwDPElIq_-jKgD1yNjSFWLbY5k/s1600/Frills+menu002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXbsOj5knwkCpsxNafyVVA5NKy7Hl7D2bFU1T4E5HQplNMN3RQIlJn_YLMSm_7eDhEuulftDb2ft2idirUH4yHpvAKZspsDbwkDE4iNW3GfEHWU2D4PwDPElIq_-jKgD1yNjSFWLbY5k/s400/Frills+menu002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Due to the popularity of the tea room, we had to wait until June! I took this as a good sign and reserved a table. June finally came and Joyce and I went to tea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We met GayleTheilacker, the tea room proprietor and her right-armed gal, Valerie who would soon become treasured friends! </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">A new tradition was born! Frills became our favorite tea room. We returned several times to enjoy tea after an afternoon of shopping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, we tried others ~ and had some great laughs! One tea room, Critters, was down in Torrance. We should have known something was amiss when we called to make reservations. A gentleman answered the phone and I requested the date. There was this pregnant pause...and then, an "Ok." When we got there, we discovered a froo-frooed coffee shop with very few patrons. We were seated and after what seemed to be a very long time, a tiered tray of sandwiches was presented. There were three or four finger treats ~ stale and almost without filling. The tea was your basic Lipton's and dessert...well, I just don't remember. We laughed all the way home over this interpretation of 'tea room'. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The J. Adams Tea Room in Whittier was a great. This was an antique store with tea room towards the back. We were seated on the patio. It was a beautiful day and the garden atmosphere was magical! There were wall fountains and colorful flowers throughout the patio area. The tea was divine...and the quiche was delicious! I returned home, determined to add a wall fountain to our garden!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Frills continued to be our favorite tea room, with the Rose Garden Tea Room at the Huntington Library, a close second.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Then, one day we discovered the Frills Tea Room had unexpectedly closed. We asked what happened. The gal at the jewelry counter told us that the owner of Frills and Gayle (the tea room owner) had a falling out and Gayle had moved. "Where?" we asked. While she didn't give us the address, she gave us enough details to track her down. Arcadia, on Huntington Drive, near an Italian deli. Joyce and I hopped in the car and drove to Arcadia. Once we were on Huntington, we cruised slowly, checking out the store fronts. We found the deli and low and behold, right next door was a building with a 'for lease' sign in the window. We pulled around to the rear entrance and peeked in the back door. Pay dirt! Just inside the back door we saw Gayle's piano. We left her a note, telling her "Yay! We found you!" and asked her to let us know when she opened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It wasn't until the following fall that we received word from Gayle that her new tea room, <u><strong>la TEA da</strong></u>, was opening. We immediately made reservations for that first weekend!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The new tea room was larger, brighter and so charming. Hats and boas hung on the wall, ready for guests to wear! Lots of miss-matched tables and one-of-a-kind chairs graced the room. The menu offered the favorites from Frills and new treats, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the Christmas season came, Gayle decorated her menu and offered vocal entertainment for her guests. Her husband and friends would sing Christmas carols throughout the afternoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, if it was your birthday, Gayle would sing to you. Many times, there were multiple birthdays, and Gayle would come out, and sing her special birthday song, and include each birthday guest's name in one breath as she walked to each table where the honored guests were seated!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Joyce and I enjoyed many afternoons sipping tea over the years at la TEA da. Then, in 2001, we learned that the tea room was closing. Gayle was not well and could no longer keep up with the demands of the business. We went for tea one last time that last weekend ~ a bittersweet time. We had discovered a wonderful past time, made some wonderful friends and were now saying good-bye.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">In the weeks that followed, Joyce and I talked about tea and wondered if we would ever find a tea room as special as la TEA da. Then, out of the blue, just when we thought we would never again enjoy a slice of warm peach crumb cake with Gayle's special la TEA da Cream, we each received a copy of her <u>Recipes of la TEA da</u>. The tea room may be closed, but thanks to Gayle, we can continue to enjoy her recipes and reminisce about all the great times we shared at la TEA da!</span>peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-44972512146725691892013-01-11T08:59:00.001-08:002013-01-11T09:25:48.953-08:00Huell Howser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">On Monday, we learned of the passing of Huell Howser, creator of the California Gold television series on PBS. He was just 67.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm not sure why his passing is affecting me as it is. Maybe it is because for years he was a regular in our home ... sharing his stories and introducing us to places we've never been. Maybe it is because his TV series was home-grown and full of down-to-earth dedication. Maybe ... it is because I actually got to meet him and within a few moments I felt that he was a long-time friend. Whatever the reason, I feel fortunate to have met and chatted with him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Without Huell Howser in our lives, I would not have known about Broguiere's Dairy and their amazing egg nog. I would not have seen the top of Half Dome in Yosemite, heard the inside story about the Fire Fall or 'met' Tom Bopp, the music historian for Yosemite. My son would still be struggling to find something that began with 'Z' for his 4th grade ABC report (All 'Bout California). It was Huell who introduced us to the California Zephyr ~ a train that traveled the coast of California. Thanks to Huell, Whitney wrapped his report with an amazing story!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Huell took us to Oceanic Arts in Whittier, where island themed movie props and decor can be rented or purchased. He was particularly amazed to see the many Tiki items that were available!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">We got to see the inside operation of Ferguson's Marine Specialties in Wilmington, one of the oldest seashell wholesalers, where seashells are collected, cleaned and packaged for sale. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">When the episode about the Tear Drop Trailers aired, we were immediately intrigued about how compact they were...perfect for the nomad who was ready for a endless road trip.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Huell was invited to Hearst Castle by a group of people who had won the opportunity to swim in the majestic swimming pool. Twenty lucky people were interviewed as they swam while the sun began the decent to the horizon. We watched with anticipation as Huell kept the suspense going right up to the end of the story...would he jump in the pool? As the show was just about to end...after a little more hesitation, he finally jumped in! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wherever Huell went, we were right there with him, never knowing what was in store but confident that we would enjoy the ride. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Thank you, Huell, for sharing the stories as only you could. You made us feel truly welcome to come along as you traveled in search of California's Gold. I know that each time we hear the word 'amazing', we will fondly think of you. God speed, Huell. ♥</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-13180537608947401672012-12-27T13:32:00.000-08:002012-12-27T13:32:31.057-08:00Reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Looking ahead....</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like many, I find I do a lot of reflecting at the end of the year. Some years are better than others; some leave us with sobering lessons while others bring us a sense of satisfaction and promise.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2012 will be one of those years that while I will remember the lessons learned, I will not be sad to see it end.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am looking forward to the new beginning. As I hang my new calendar, I am reminded that 2013 is a brand new year ~ with no mistakes (yet)!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">For years now, I have refrained from making new year's resolutions. Not that I can't use improvement in various areas, but to avoid the inevitable opportunity of falling short of my expectations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">This year, I am stepping into 2013 one step at a time...one day at a time. It is my hope to spend more time in the garden... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> ....in my studio...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> .... and with friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will stop and take in more sunsets...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will slow down and enjoy my morning walks...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My New Year wish for you, dear blog followers, is to do what makes you happy. Make time for yourself ~ indulge in your passion...whatever it may be. Time is elusive...and there is no way to get it back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">May 2013 be the year you rekindle your interests...whether it be reading, hiking, cooking, art, crafting, sewing, gardening, scrapbooking....give yourself the gift of time for you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Then, at the end of 2013....let's compare notes and see how we did!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Happy New Year!</span></div>
peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15653705517327593089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026964213537592911.post-33511834261887892702012-10-30T12:02:00.003-07:002012-10-30T12:02:49.143-07:00Autumn Leaves<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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About this time every year, the leaves begin their farewell soiree. The deep greens begin to fade and the yellows, golds, reds and rusts slowly emerge in magical patterns. And, just before they take to the wind, just when you think you've seen the best color ever, Mother Nature takes the display up one more notch.<br />
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And it is a bittersweet time. We wait for the fall and the cooler weather ... we wait with delicious anticipation for those crisp, blue skies and for the trees to don their autumn wardrobe. Then, in a blink of an eye (or, so it seems), the winds come, the leaves dance and flutter to the ground in a grand finale.<br />
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When Roxie and I take our morning walk, I watch for fallen leaves that I can bring home and display on the mantle and bookcase. I think this is my way of holding on to autumn ... not wanting to let her go just yet.<br />
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During our walk, we pass a magnificent Sycamore tree that has leaves that are as big as a dinner plate! The leaves from this tree turn from green to yellow/rust and then, a soft sienna. Some have holes in them while others have variegated tones....each one has it's own character.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakeyuKlDMigsSGrr50rl7Zqhhb1qQHB3a5Dn49e3hAhJnBiUpqqVxhLeZTPfkPPZrZLNegLCIFfLXy64pqCPZiVE4TsKQGMw0Y-6tKgggxj76-13D6quW9keivtyHdrscagAF_jul1N8/s1600/Fall+Leaves+2000+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="165" qea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakeyuKlDMigsSGrr50rl7Zqhhb1qQHB3a5Dn49e3hAhJnBiUpqqVxhLeZTPfkPPZrZLNegLCIFfLXy64pqCPZiVE4TsKQGMw0Y-6tKgggxj76-13D6quW9keivtyHdrscagAF_jul1N8/s320/Fall+Leaves+2000+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2000 ~ before our official mantle, we had just a warm, chunky shelf...perfect <br />
for autumn displays!</td></tr>
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So, I bring them in and add them to the mantel. If they survive, I add a little sparkle to them and often times, they find a spot on our Christmas tree! I thought maybe you might want to give this a try...it's really quite easy!</div>
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Supplies: sponge brush, Elmer's glue, iridescent clear glitter, a small pie tin, a bit of water and some newspaper to place on the work space. </div>
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Put a blob of glue in the pie tin and add a bit of water. Mix with brush. If too thick, add a little more water. The glue should have some body; you don't want it too watery. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfR48zJCTAat8e97OH1tmIJJUx9OPllJhepyQwi7asEthvHx0HJTnfn1tjzNBbmCMUB-vMdEy5ppnr2vxtPWgxpiIM6LjND0C2eRS71C1Ny0J4FZpxoly2eu6LVmGfI3iFrNUYJq8un-Y/s1600/P1130404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfR48zJCTAat8e97OH1tmIJJUx9OPllJhepyQwi7asEthvHx0HJTnfn1tjzNBbmCMUB-vMdEy5ppnr2vxtPWgxpiIM6LjND0C2eRS71C1Ny0J4FZpxoly2eu6LVmGfI3iFrNUYJq8un-Y/s320/P1130404.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Brush the glue on to the leaf. I usually start with the edges. Then, I brush the parts of the leaves that are raised and contoured. I try to think how the leaf might look if it was in the snow, and apply the glue accordingly. Remember, leaves change color, shape and dry randomly...so there is no wrong way to do this! </div>
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Sprinkle with glitter! Shake off excess and return to container. Let dry. </div>
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They look like they have been found in the snow! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgpn6mMAMsRBYaoJ8pLRb34p1kDtbTiqFvPbLPN2yxq6n20PtuqHh5RHxc2fTDL9IoK4pu0ClqK3ljyf64qaVoOVvwYVmPrUz1jsb3wxttvSwNrYpmiTL1Jvf8MJkJF4gXsFCQELpu1o/s1600/P1130418ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgpn6mMAMsRBYaoJ8pLRb34p1kDtbTiqFvPbLPN2yxq6n20PtuqHh5RHxc2fTDL9IoK4pu0ClqK3ljyf64qaVoOVvwYVmPrUz1jsb3wxttvSwNrYpmiTL1Jvf8MJkJF4gXsFCQELpu1o/s320/P1130418ed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
If it is snowing in your neck of the woods right now, add just a few snow-kissed leaves to your mantle suggest a hint of the changing weather!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijoyb6OMsdxAF2ZOLxMltdKf0Yb_ugRahEcKBjgwjN0vRdJ1GYRPpleYLLvKjneoiTAyPfVjOccsHPW4gC1a7pwsSXqdPp_WMVMTC0E2dak154CC_LvI41wkT4JBD7m_7-X7Dn2uJFFlk/s1600/P1000456ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" qea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijoyb6OMsdxAF2ZOLxMltdKf0Yb_ugRahEcKBjgwjN0vRdJ1GYRPpleYLLvKjneoiTAyPfVjOccsHPW4gC1a7pwsSXqdPp_WMVMTC0E2dak154CC_LvI41wkT4JBD7m_7-X7Dn2uJFFlk/s200/P1000456ed.jpg" width="184" /></a></div>
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...I just can't get enough of Autumn!</div>
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C'mon, Roxie! Do you want to go for a walk?!!!</div>
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(You know what she said, don't you?!)</div>
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