tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56484496115839465352024-03-19T04:13:51.038-04:00Galloping InsanityTWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-46023391744929955752011-02-13T10:32:00.000-05:002011-02-13T10:32:27.704-05:00Valentine's From AfarHappy Valentine's Day, Dear Reader! Here's hoping that you're having a wonderful time with your significant other... filled with chocolate, roses, and candlelight. Personally, Yours Truely is hoping for something a little more practical... like a teleportation device. This Valentine's Day My Darlin' is a whopping 750 miles away... and the distance has never felt longer then it does today. <br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7T61yVY_azLkpSJBLXPoDPAG8lTHCyIqHniuT-cUjlGNrz-rIx3EFXx-XC5mAHrZMNMIlm7gqPFsSS2cNhKtZHPJGqo3BdWuO58x3TINvuxdRvTlpcugWmQegznIZyvw8yeobX8WRVbP/s640/card-front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7T61yVY_azLkpSJBLXPoDPAG8lTHCyIqHniuT-cUjlGNrz-rIx3EFXx-XC5mAHrZMNMIlm7gqPFsSS2cNhKtZHPJGqo3BdWuO58x3TINvuxdRvTlpcugWmQegznIZyvw8yeobX8WRVbP/s320/card-front.jpg" width="320" /></a>Ever been in a long distance relationship, Dear Reader? They are not for the faint of heart, the jealous type, or those who are overly clingy. Yours Truely has found that it can increase the relationship's depth of communication... but only to the level one commits to really listening to their significant other. My best advice... Spring for that unlimited phone plan and use it liberally! Talk... text... flirt... discuss... or just be there in silence with each other... Use the time you're apart physically to foster the friendship and closeness that will provide the foundation for a lifetime. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This is a time to learn about each other... to find out some of their likes and dislikes... their foibles. During Christmas, we discussed decorating for the season. Yours Truely, having been an apartment dweller for over a decade now, has almost gotten out of the habit. My Darlin' laughed as she exclaimed "You are soooo screwed!" and cheerfully related how she loves to decorate for the season... inside and out. <span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>(Yours Truely secretly misses the ritual and is soooo looking forward to sharing that with her this year.)</em></span><span style="font-size: small;"> We've discussed everything from pets to parenting to politics. We've surfed the web together... and listened as The Boy serenaded us on his guitar.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yours Truely enjoys listening in to My Darlin's daily life as well... lurking electronically in the background as My Darlin' welcomes her son home from school, helps with the homework, and yells for him to quit bouncing on the couch. She's mystified as to why Yours Truely does so, but it's amazing how much you learn about a person from the way they deal with their children. One cannot keep up any sort of reasonable facade for long around their children... they'll rat you out everytime! As a parent myself, Yours Truely is able to relate to all the trials and tribulations she's going through too.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A long distance relationship is difficult though. It will test your resolve... your patience... your love. Still, Yours Truely does not regret a moment of it... and will gladly wait for you, My Darlin'. After all, when you've been waiting your whole life to find your other half, what's a little longer.</div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-16252312725816839642011-02-06T23:54:00.001-05:002011-02-06T23:55:32.255-05:00New Horizons...Well, Dear Reader, it's finally official... in an unofficial way... Yours Truely got the promotion! Actually it's been kinda anti-climatic around here. Everyone assumed ages ago that Yours Truely was being earmarked for the position and it has yet to be "officially" announced at large...so there's not much of a congratulatory mood really. Still, Yours Truely is all excited!<br />
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<div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Now the fun really starts! Yours Truely has a blank slate to play with.... a new plant and a blank system waiting to be created.... literally. But wait... There's more! Not one.... Four databases await Yours Truely's input before the plant starts up. Can you say "pressure", Dear Reader. Needless to say that in addition to being excited, Yours Truely is a wee bit nervous. Luckily I have a lot of support... including from my current team... which will be invaluable.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://geek.co.il/wp/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/bumper-sticker-zoom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="71" src="http://geek.co.il/wp/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/bumper-sticker-zoom.jpg" width="200" /></a> </div>So, Dear Reader, begins the whirlwind as Yours Truely prepares for a new job in a new state with a new team. Wish me luck!<br />
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<div> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-35033801359048787772011-01-30T14:28:00.000-05:002011-01-30T14:28:23.305-05:00Barbie?... Seriously?<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Admittedly, Yours Truely has never been accused of being fashionable... in fact, G-Ma has always cringed at my choice of attire. Part of it stems from my total aversion to shopping. Yours Truely doesn't dislike shopping... but rather abhors it. Shopping is a necessary evil only.... which produces anxiety and headaches within short order. As has been pointed out many times.... Yours Truely also spends more then needed when shopping by not preforming the ritual known as "shopping around" or "bargain shopping"... <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">*shudder*</span></em> ... More shopping?... <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">You're kidding, right?</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Luckily for me, My Darlin' loves to shop...<span style="font-size: x-small;"><em> thankfully</em></span> she has a Master's in the Art of the Bargain too. Can't tell you how thrilled Yours Truely was when she offered to take over all my shopping needs once she's moved in. "You just need a Personal Shopper", she told me.... "I'd be happy to... ummmm... apply for the position." Dear Reader, let me tell you that was pure music to my ears! <span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>(Especially when she followed it with that cute little giggle... sigh...)</em></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Personal Shopper... just what Yours Truely has always needed... right?... well... maybe... <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In a later conversation, My Darlin' started talking about being my "Personal <em><strong>Stylist</strong></em>"... Ok. Yours Truely had to ask... What's the difference between a "Personal <em><strong>Shopper</strong></em>" and a "Personal <em><strong>Stylist</strong></em>"? My Darlin' explained that, in her opinion, a "Personal Shopper" buys what you ask for... whereas a "Personal Stylist" buys what <em><strong>they</strong></em> think you'll look good in. <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Uh huh.... Ok.</span></em> Yours Truely was ok with this concept until My Darlin' came out with... "It'll be so fun! You'll be like my real live Barbie doll to play dress up with!" </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Dear Reader.... can we say<strong> "Oh... HELL NO!!"</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">For those of my Dear Readers who haven't guessed by now... Yours Truely is not the... ummmm... feminine side of this relationship. My current wardrobe mainly consists of blue jeans, polo shirts and steel toed workboots... Oh, and a ballcap on bad hair days. Yours Truely is what's commonly described as Butch... albeit of the Soft Butch variety... and gets called "Sir" at least a couple of times a week (occasionally even by my manager). Never will words like "dainty", "frilly", "girly" or the like come to mind when thinking of me.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.totallypimpedout.net/Graphics/Lifestyle/images/butch_barbie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" s5="true" src="http://www.totallypimpedout.net/Graphics/Lifestyle/images/butch_barbie.jpg" width="160" /></a>My actual response to My Darlin' that fateful day?... "Ummmmm.... Hope that's a Butch Barbie you're thinkin' of, Darlin'!" I mean Barbie's been almost everything else hasn't she? Sure enough, Dear Reader, a quick search turned up a few varieties of Barbie all butched out... though I'm not sure they're officially sanctioned. Who knew... Barbie obviously had a bit of a.... shall we say... experimental phase... </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-64276383061432075502011-01-16T10:03:00.001-05:002011-01-16T21:44:14.925-05:00Moving Miscellania<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1YpMZY3uey_E1a2efGmdGKKNZxhG1RpLgT4DBgNn4ZMxvzI9DXTSPox1uG30WRzHm-XGHkfaTmoq6VpSfjbJ7yXs4fKZDemDrHPTDalyTWMBgBXvNL3DKuToptvo4dMaHUUNcMA9lO0/s1600/04+Jan.+08+09.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1YpMZY3uey_E1a2efGmdGKKNZxhG1RpLgT4DBgNn4ZMxvzI9DXTSPox1uG30WRzHm-XGHkfaTmoq6VpSfjbJ7yXs4fKZDemDrHPTDalyTWMBgBXvNL3DKuToptvo4dMaHUUNcMA9lO0/s200/04+Jan.+08+09.11.jpg" width="195" /></a>Well, Dear Reader, Yours Truely is spending her free time packing away.... when procrastination techniques run dry at least. One mustn't rush into these things after all.... Weekend mornings are best savored slowly over a cup (or three) of coffee allowing one to <strike>dread</strike> contemplate the task ahead at one's leisure. With gentle prodding from my friends as to the progress of my endevour and encouragement from My Darlin'... boxes are slowly stacking up with the assorted flotsam of my life.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Which leaves me to ponder upon one of life's true mysteries... Just how does one accumulate all this... stuff?!? Does it multiply when we're not looking? Does it sneak into the junk drawers/corners/rooms while we're asleep? Sorting through the odds and ends has lead to several discoveries of things forgotten though... from a T-square... to a picture taken when The Boy was just days old... to a Tickle Me Elmo... How have these things escaped notice in this small apartment? Truely amazing what emerges from the back of that closet when you dig far enough! </div><br />
The task has also lead Yours Truely to wonder... if my domicile is taking this long to sort through, how in the world will we ever cope if something happens to G-Ma? She is the true Collector Queen in our fractured family. Spread through her home are collections reflecting her many interests over the years... ranging from ceramics... to reams of information on the family tree... to woven baskets. She borders on hoarding... filling any space to an overflowing, precariously balanced pile with ease. At some point, the treasure trove of her life will become my overwhelming task. Wonder what <strike>skeletons</strike> memories we'll find in there?<br />
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<img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" />TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-22201750165877254152011-01-04T22:12:00.002-05:002011-01-08T20:28:06.422-05:00Is My Southern Showin'?<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://humptysdump.com/design/images/sheet16/thumbs/dixie_darlin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://humptysdump.com/design/images/sheet16/thumbs/dixie_darlin.jpg" /></a>Southerners have a way with words. Dripping with honey... lubricated with sweet tea... drawn out through a velvet drawl... Our vocabulary is as colorful as our heritage and applied with molasses liberally over all we come in contact with. Only a Southerner can get by with calling both their waitress and their mechanic "Hon" without drawing so much as a raised eyebrow. "Hon" is just our way of politely acknowledging you. Yours Truely cannot imagine a day going by without uttering "hon" at least a half dozen times through the course of day. What else would one say? "Hey you" is just so common, not to mention rude... </div></div><br />
To Yours Truely, however, while "hon" can be applied to anyone from birth to grave.... "darlin'" is reserved for those especially close to your heart... The Boy may occasionally cringe, but receives the coveted term from Yours Truely on a semi-regular basis... <em>at least when he's on good behavior</em>. The only other person currently eligable for the honor is my girlfriend. She is my darlin'... a term she hears daily from Yours Truely. <em>(After all, "Absolutely, Darlin'" and "Yes indeedy, Darlin'" are two terms any Southerner who hopes to keep their gal happy should learn and apply liberally...)</em><br />
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In a recent <a href="http://twolf2u.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-here-i-come.html">New Year's post</a>, Yours Truely spoke of the need for a proper pseudonym for my girlfriend... after all, <a href="http://twolf2u.blogspot.com/p/cast-of-characters.html">The GF</a> is already in use. We tossed around a few ideas, including MML for My Main Lady that was suggested by a friend... but nothing felt right to me. It had to be just right.... she was my darlin' after all... and then the lightbulb went off! So Dear Reader... without further ado, please allow Yours Truely to introduce... My Darlin'. <em> </em><em>(The following has been added to the Cast Of Characters for future generations edification and enlightenment.)</em><br />
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<strong>My Darlin'</strong> (Yours Truely's girlfriend) - A bubbly, passionate personality equally at home on horseback or poised on high heels. She's been accused of resembling Sandra Bullock... but Yours Truely see a wee bit of Claudia Christian in her as well. An animal lover, her household includes... a horse, a bearded lizard, a raccoon, and two dogs.... Oh, and a six year old son. She's a patient, loving mother... a hard task with any energetic, young child. Just the sound of her voice lifts Yours Truely's spirits and fills my heart.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-23325417909007201582011-01-01T14:33:00.001-05:002011-01-02T14:27:05.990-05:00New Year, here I come!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.hubnights.com/wp-content/themes/yamidoo_pro/scripts/timthumb.php?src=http://www.hubnights.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/new_year_2011.jpg&w=170&zc=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://www.hubnights.com/wp-content/themes/yamidoo_pro/scripts/timthumb.php?src=http://www.hubnights.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/new_year_2011.jpg&w=170&zc=1" /></a>Yours Truely has been waiting in breathless anticipation for this New Year to finally arrive... So much to look forward to! Let's catch you up on what's in store for the upcoming year, Dear Reader, shall we....</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Behind Door Number One....</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A brand new job! This isn't a certainty... yet... But I should find out within the next week or so whether I'm being offered a promotion and position at our new plant. Yours Truely has been chomping at the bit and gnawing at her nails over this one for awhile now, Dear Reader...Sure it would mean more money, but it also comes with a lot of work to be done before the plant opens and means I'd have to move to another state. For someone who loves her ruts, this is a wee bit intimidating in and of itself.... Combine that with having to leave The Boy behind and it's enough to give one pause. Yours Truely has received nothing but encouragement though from all concerned.... including my management. So here's hoping for good news on the job front to share soon!</div><br />
<strong>Moving On...</strong><br />
Yep, Yours Truely is finally going to crawl out from her personal purgatory of apartment dwelling and become a home owner once again. My mind's made up... whether the aforementioned job comes through or not, it's on to greener pastures and quieter domiciles! Though an online comment about having a vibrating couch (due to my downstairs neighbor's cranked up stereo) did lead to a wonderful, unexpected relationship... The ambiance has primarily led to an increased feeling of dis-ease on my part... playing havoc with my bouts of agoraphobia. (Even harder to convince yourself to walk out that door when someone suddenly starts screaming in the hallway, believe me!) So regardless of whether its across town or two states away.... UHaul here I come!<br />
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<strong>What does a Lesbian bring to the second date?....</strong><br />
Couldn't resist... tried... couldn't... forgive me....But speaking of UHauls... as mentioned in a previous post, Yours Truely has become involved recently in a long-distance relationship. During this New Year, we're hoping to change that however... <em>she says with a huge ear-to-ear grin plastered on her face</em>. To say Yours Truely is smitten would be a dis-serve to smites the world over... Yours Truely is full-bore head-over-heels in love, Dear Reader... much to The Boy's personal amusement. He approves completely.... as though he had a say in the matter... She's won him over.. whether it was her sense of humor or how much we obviously care for each other... of course the Christmas gifts didn't hurt either! Young and naive we're not though... we both realize that the hard work of the relationship lies ahead, but we're looking forward to facing it together.... Oh, and she has a six year old... Yours Truely is looking forward to starting a new family in more ways then one! This year will be an exciting time indeed!<br />
<em>(Hummmm... will have to think of a good pseudonym for her soon... Any suggestions?)</em><br />
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<strong>Stand By Your Man...</strong><br />
That's right... Yours Truely was honored when one of my best online friends requested that I serve as his Best Man... ummm... make that Best Person at his wedding this year. He and his fiance met and courted each other in the same online forum where I met my own love. We all excited as many of our online friends will be traveling to help celebrate their new life together.... and, dadgum it, Yours Truely is going to rock a tux! <em>(I'll post pics too... just for you, Dear Reader)</em> <br />
<br />
So there you have it... the main events of the New Year in a nutshell. Of course, its yet to be seen what other surprises the New Year has in store as it never comes without a gift or two in hand... being a considerate guest. The gift isn't always what we asked for... and may appear to be more curse then present... But given the distance of time we usually find the New Year's gift was just what we needed, when we needed it. <br />
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Here's wishing you a wonderful New Year, Dear Reader... filled with surprises and gifts galore!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-31945785711338202502010-11-25T11:16:00.000-05:002010-11-25T11:16:38.410-05:00Giving Thanks...T'is the season yet again... and I've been sorely neglecting my duties as a blogger. Lately I've been receiving some gentle prodding to get back to writing... <em>yes, you! </em>I really have missed sharing and venting with you all. Not going to make any promises... but I'll attempt to keep you all updated and amused on a more regular basis from now on.<br />
<br />
<strong>What I'm thankful for this year...</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Becoming an Ex-Smoker...</strong> I'm still vaping away on my eCig (electronic cigarette) and loving it. Finally I can smell / taste / breath again... without hacking up a lung daily. I haven't felt this good since I was a teenager! <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://i602.photobucket.com/albums/tt101/paintedacres_photos/49-77087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://i602.photobucket.com/albums/tt101/paintedacres_photos/49-77087.jpg" width="149" /></a><strong>New Friends and Unexpected Family...</strong> While transitioning from smoking to vaping, I joined a couple of forums... for support and information. There I found a new online home with some of the most wonderful, caring people I've had the pleasure to meet... I found family. We all check in on each other... rejoicing in each other's victories, sharing in the sorrows and lightening the load of the daily grind. A couple of my online friends are getting married next year... Guess who got asked by the groom to be the Best Person... <em>big grin....</em> I'm going to look good in a tux!</div><br />
One of my favorite authors, Richard Bach, said it best in his book <em>Illusions - The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah</em>... "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof." <em>(</em><a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/r/richard_bach.html"><em>More quotes from Richard Bach</em></a><em>... If you've never read this one, you really should... it's fun and offers some wonderful insights! He's best known for writing "Jonathan Livingston Seagull") </em><br />
<br />
<strong>Rediscovering Love...</strong> Not only did I find friends and family on the forums... I found a wonderfully, amazing woman to share my life with. <em>(Now you know why I've been neglecting you all... but I'm sure you understand... don't you...)</em> While our's is still a long distance relationship at this point, we're making plans to change that. Meanwhile... thank god for unlimited phone plans! My fondest memory of the year... meeting her for the first time... losing myself in her smile... and realizing just how much I do love her. <em> (I know... I know... more another time...)</em><br />
<br />
<strong>Family... Issues and all...</strong> About to undergo a 6 hour round trip to eat Thanksgiving dinner with G-Ma and the Brothers at Shoney's <em>(G-Ma's choice what can I say)... </em>They may be quirky and make you cringe at times, but I love them dearly just the same. <br />
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<strong>Happy Thanksgiving to you all!</strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-17951456750970403402010-10-13T22:08:00.000-04:002010-10-13T22:08:43.222-04:00Cha.. cha.. cha... Changes...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><object height="172" style="clear: right; float: right;" width="212"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zbnJo88kuP8?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zbnJo88kuP8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="212" height="172"></embed></object>Life rarely stands still.. but this year has been full of change for Yours Truely. For someone who is much more comfortable on solid land... wallowing in a well-worn rut... it's been a challenge to keep my equilibrium in the midst of the swirling seas. </div><br />
3 years of spending all my free time working for The Boy's marching band as both a parent and member of the board.... starting and maintaining the website..... setting up a volunteer database.... running fundraisers.... playing band photographer..... <br />
Done and over. Website re-written... database tossed.... no more weekends devoted to band... no trace that I was there....<br />
<br />
12 years of The Boy's schooling.... watching him take those first steps away from me into the wider world.... pulling my hair out over last minute projects.... helping him struggling with homework.... cringing at his sometimes embarrassing antics... proudly watching him grow....<br />
Done and over. The Boy graduated.... not with honors... but with his dignity intact and a college acceptance in hand....<br />
<br />
18 years of playing mother.... and father... the ultimate dicotomy... either kiss away hurts or tell him to suck it up.... showing him how to do his own laundry and how to throw the football in a tight spiral.... teaching him to hold the door open for others and to stand up for yourself.... advising him on work and on women...<br />
Done and over. The Boy's moved out... stretching out his wings... hesitantly poised on the verge of manhood....<br />
33 years of smoking... sneaking dad's non-filtered Pall Malls cause mom counts hers.... slipping into the restroom of the middle school for a smoke break... loving the habit.... knowing it's killing me... coughing so much it scares me... never wanting to quit....<br />
Done and over. Discovering electronic cigarettes.... finding that I've quit without trying.... breathing easily again... <br />
So many changes. I'll admit I became a bit depressed coping with it all.... my agoraphobia kicked in again as well... but life goes on.... and this too shall pass... is passing. Friends have stepped in, dragging me out of my cacoon, fussing at me about being the lone Wolf for too long. I am working on it... as best I can. Getting used to the empty nest... getting out some.... discovering that I don't want to be alone.... and working on that too.<br />
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Change is as inevitable as the wind... blowing through our lives. Hopefully this year's winds of change sail me in a good direction.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-1834687448020039312010-09-29T01:08:00.000-04:002010-09-29T01:08:51.871-04:00Remember me?Welcome back, Dear Reader... and my sincere apologies for keeping you waiting. I've spent the last few days practicing my deep breathing... gathering my courage to jump back into the blogsphere once again. It's been awhile... so let's catch up some, shall we....<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/TKLHI5Aw27I/AAAAAAAACmI/4OBxyFRwEbU/s144/SAM_0336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/TKLHI5Aw27I/AAAAAAAACmI/4OBxyFRwEbU/s200/SAM_0336.JPG" width="200" /></a>The Boy has gone off to college... about 10 minutes down the road. He's enjoying his freedom and seems to actually be attending class. Once a week I get a call asking if I'd like to go to dinner and catch up. <em>(Translation for the childless: Feed me and bring cash)</em> At least he holds up his end of the bargain by regaling me with tales of college life... like how they discovered neither one packed a can opener. I understand his pool game is improving too.</div><br />
Brother1 has finally moved out of G-Ma's house. He was able to obtain a three bedroom goverment subsidized apartment once he convinced his ex to sign papers granting him half custody of his kids. Since then his kids decided they'd rather not move in, he's lost yet another job, and G-Ma's starting to get concerned that he'll be moving back in before the holidays. Don't know what he's going to do with the leopard skin couch and matching chair if he loses the place. Such a shame.<br />
<br />
Brother2 recieved a summons the other day naming him in a paternity suit. He helpfully explained to the officer that maybe they had the wrong person.... after all he has a twin... and a cousin with the same name... and he didn't even recognise the gal's name. He's since placed a face on the name and is now just keeping his fingers crossed. <br />
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G-Ma has been staying busy between volunteering with the Red Cross, taking Brother1 and kids on vacation, and fumigating her place. Seems Brother2 found a wonderful used couch for his apartment... infested with bed bugs. Eventually he brought enough of them over to G-Ma's to start an outpost there. <span style="font-size: x-small;">*shudder*</span> We've kept visits with G-Ma limited to day-trips lately. She's making headway against them though... hopefully.<br />
<br />
And what of Yours Truely?... well as you'll recall I switched from cigarettes to an <a href="http://twolf2u.blogspot.com/2010/02/miracle-of-miracles.html">electronic cigarette</a> back in Febuary. Since then I've been quite active in the forum community and helped start an e-cig group in our state. We get together once or twice a month to visit, share new flavors, and have fun. Since The Boy has moved out, I've been battling a bit of depression and a slight resergance of agoraphobia. Makes each of these get togethers it's own little victory. Meanwhile, some friends have begun fussing at me for being such a "lone wolf". One buddy of mine recently declared that he'd be my wing man... he's sure his wife won't mind.<br />
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That brings you up to speed a bit at least. Promise we'll chat again real soon, Dear Reader....<br />
<br />
<img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" />TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-17980983374501531982010-06-10T22:50:00.000-04:002010-06-10T22:50:57.107-04:00The Milestone of Matriculation<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/TBGiumMpaII/AAAAAAAAB3s/WsNUz-7w-OI/s1600/IMG_7786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" qu="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/TBGiumMpaII/AAAAAAAAB3s/WsNUz-7w-OI/s200/IMG_7786.JPG" width="200" /></a>Well, The Boy and The GF have finally matriculated. They are currently in that starry-eyed limbo between high school and college... between PlayStation and summer jobs. Yours Truely and G-Ma are just beginning to recover after having sat through two ceremonies... in a row. Thankfully, The GF's mother surprised us all with a celebratory cake inbetween, which gave us enough of a sugar surge to deal with the next round of speeches. You could tell how excited The Boy was. All you had to do was watch him spring to his feet when they asked the graduating class to rise. You'd of thought someone stuck him with a pin the way he popped out of that chair!</div><br />
Today The Boy struggled through the obligatory Thank You cards that follow graduation giving. Of course, family rules of etiquette had to be hammered out first...<br />
<blockquote>"No, you don't have to send a card to Brother1 for the '<em>I took an IQ test... and it came back negative'</em> ballcap that he sent along with G-Ma. You should, however, mention it in your card to G-Ma. This will assist in keeping the level of negativity at G-Ma's house to a minimum. </blockquote><blockquote>No, you don't have to send a card to Brother2 for the Graduation 'Smiley' he texted to you. A simple 'ty' should suffice. Please send the "ty" now, however, as he's already texted me several times to ensure you did indeed receive his "gift".</blockquote><blockquote>Please write legibly... in complete sentences. Each card must include more then "Thank you for the money. Sincerely..." You must include at least one sentence about how this gift will help with college purchases. Again, legibly... other people should be able to decipher the message... without requiring a translator."</blockquote>After looking over the completed cards, The Boy and I had a discussion on the importance of handwriting in a technical society. He insists that keyboarding skills are all that one needs in this day and age. Meanwhile, I'm trying to resist the temptation to re-write a few of the (non-family) cards myself... especially those to co-workers. The fact that each is identical should speed the job along, though. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-44038498554428226372010-05-09T09:55:00.000-04:002010-05-09T09:55:30.872-04:00Happy Mother's Day!This year will break a long standing Mother's Day tradition for Yours Truly and The Boy. For the past ten years we've out for a movie and dinner for Mother's Day. Today though I volunteered with his high school band to work the concession stands at the local minor league ballpark. So we'll be spending the majority of our Mother's Day serving up hot dogs and drinks to the locals. Thankfully it's supposed to be a beautiful day for a ballgame!<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">While I don't mind giving up my Mother's Day for the cause, I was feeling a little guilty until I found out that G-Ma wasn't going to be home on Mother's Day either. She's off on her own volunteer adventure with the Red Cross helping out tornado victims. I completely forgot the time difference there and accidentally woke her up to wish her a Happy Mother's Day this morning. Felt even worse about the time when she told me they'd given them a half-day off today in celebration. Sorry, Mom!</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S-SxCTAFOTI/AAAAAAAABqA/_1TZ4C7t54A/s1600/IMG_2680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S-SxCTAFOTI/AAAAAAAABqA/_1TZ4C7t54A/s200/IMG_2680.JPG" tt="true" width="163" /></a>I had to send G-Ma a picture of The Boy and the GF all dressed up for their senior prom. It's hard to believe how quickly time flys when you have a child! Any mother can tell you to savor all these moments while you can. The Boy and GF let it drop this weekend that they are considering moving away to a college out of state in a couple of years to support her choice in majors. Ok... so marine biology is best studied near a body of water, but she could change her plans by then... right? Guess I'll just have to take a few deep breaths and get ready for that inevitable point when all children develop an autonomous life. He'll soon be waking me up with a long-distance call just to make sure I know he's thinking of me on Mother's Day. Meanwhile, I'm going to enjoy his company as long as I can.</div><br />
Off to the park! Have a glorious Mother's Day however you spend it!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-10097740313166475022010-04-27T23:15:00.001-04:002010-04-28T17:52:58.117-04:00For Your Viewing Pleasure...The Boy trys to block my view... focus my attention elsewhere... physically steer me away, but I'm drawn to that huge bin of low priced videos at the store. Yep... That's me pawing through multiple copies of "Twins", flipping past the "George of the Jungle", frantic to see what's under that copy of "Speed" always searching for that one gem that always hidden somewhere in there. I know it's there... I have faith it's there.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Harvey-James-Stewart/dp/B0000549B0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1272424186&sr=1-1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhX5dDMpsNyIzHN9wKQk5fjFDiPUddRMDLhPqgj2q_pYcR9l18XbeHIK2WHHH7IieA9JkA73Zb-xyxfzy4ZIkNY0tV2resl3O2QPTAvQPvjacIlSx31jSMvWIiqVzhndd8cmOtbVXOkRY/s200/01+Apr.+27+21.29.jpg" tt="true" width="142" /></a>For years now, Yours Truly has been on a video treasure hunt. It all started back when I realized how many wonderful movies that The Boy would miss out on if I didn't take matters into hand and expand his viewing horizon. He wasn't very appreciative at first... You should have heard the whinning..."It's black and white! I can't believe you're making me watch this old thing!" I finally got him to agree to watch the first 10 minutes of Jimmy Stewart in "Harvey"... and he was hooked. Of course, who wouldn't fall for an invisible, 6 foot tall rabbit hanging out with a family almost as odd as our own.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Slowly we've crossed movies off the master list... from the oldies to more modern fare. We've run the gamut in a noble quest... for I truely believe that our youth should be exposed to more then just the latest fad. Call it my version of a classic education, be it movies, books, or music.<br />
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I'll never forget dragging The Boy to see "Lord of the Rings" when it first came out. "Just consider it my Mother's Day present... dinner and a movie." The Boy watched wide-eyed as the tale unfolded... leaping onto his knees in the seat to loom over me when the credits began rolling... "It <strong>can't</strong> end there!! What happens next!!" That evening we dug out my old, dog-earred copy of the second book in the trilogy, "The Two Towers" and he took up the quest anew... struggling a bit over the vocabulary, but enjoying the tale all the more for the effort. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">To that end, I'd like to share a list of my top ten, must-see movies. Yours Truly and The Boy agonized over which of our favorites to include. I was shot down on "Breakfest at Tiffany's" and used my veto power for his suggestion of the movie version of "Rent". Let us know how the following matches up to your top ten.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/What-Dreams-Come-Robin-Williams/dp/B00007GZR5/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1272424237&sr=1-1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje0DNyXsIewJgmnsTr76HJ7bf0l2Gj5BMlWQznhv0jYzUjozDcjxTyUrtLYSMi1fxAqPRDQw_3fmCcp0Osdeo0q9KY3GFtar5kLeWIltCKvywPjNl2rfuTPwBr_1btavkZMXS8345WQ74/s200/02+Apr.+27+23.11.jpg" tt="true" width="138" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Movies: </strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"To Kill a Mockingbird" </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"Cool Hand Luke" </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"The Godfather" </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"Arscenic and Old Lace" </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"Star Wars" (Originals only, please!) </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"2001 - A Space Odessey"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"Schindler's List"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"What Dreams May Come"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"Lord of the Rings"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"It's a Wonderful Life"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-50267458860113993502010-04-18T09:56:00.000-04:002010-04-18T09:56:49.142-04:00Mullet Season Approaches!Ahhh, Spring! Time for flowers, baseball, and mullets! Ah yes... As the Mullets start emerging to enjoy the Spring weather, it's almost time for our annual Spring Mullet Hunt! This is a new tradition that started with a few friends at work and now includes a growing circle of enthusiasts in our area. Last year I came in second place, beat by less then 10 points. I'm a hunter on a mission this year!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/%3Ctable%20style=%22width:auto;%22%3E%3Ctr%3E%3Ctd%3E%3Ca%20href=%22http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4S0ZVaf6D8znGdzuHIwCrHi3r0ZdilTWDYWeg2Bg8a0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7HtmUnycNMUPlwKj0tIXMIERe8NA1holZJkrwWCZ4Mrl1eSj0yesybEVa_lJr5hRkmbkmMDMGK_gMhLgxxFT8L5IP3Bf60rnSe1E6mp-w2vvnlbJMOB760Arw_XQJBZarI73UusHXwY/s144/billy-ray-cyrusmtgzoa.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/TWolf2u/GallopingInsanity?authkey=Gv1sRgCIirxIO80qmGPg&feat=embedwebsite">Galloping Insanity</a></td></tr></table>" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7HtmUnycNMUPlwKj0tIXMIERe8NA1holZJkrwWCZ4Mrl1eSj0yesybEVa_lJr5hRkmbkmMDMGK_gMhLgxxFT8L5IP3Bf60rnSe1E6mp-w2vvnlbJMOB760Arw_XQJBZarI73UusHXwY/s200/billy-ray-cyrusmtgzoa.jpg" width="194" wt="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Billy Ray Cyrus' well-known Mullet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Never heard of a Mullet Hunt!?! Well, of course, you're familiar with the mullet itself aren't you? That long-flowing mane so popular in the states back in the 80's.... "Business in the front... Party in the back!" It's still to be found today sprouting up around beer taps, racetracks and Walmarts everywhere! If you are quiet and approach stealthily, you can snap a photo of these oddities in their natural habitat. Hence the Mullet Hunt was born!<br />
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Our hunters must follow some basic rules. First and foremost, no hunting at your workplace. I don't know about you, but we know where all the Mullets at work hang out making this very unsporting indeed. Also, HR might frown upon it, so.... Mullets must be hunted in the wild. Check your neighborhood Walmart, the line for lottery tickets or any party involving a keg... They seem to be drawn to them.<br />
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Second, no photos where the Mullet is covered by hat or scarf. You may have witnessed the full glory of the Mullet, but the judges have to be fair here. It's hard to determine whether it's truely a mullet or just a bad hair day going on under there.<br />
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Third, all photo must be taken on your cell phone's camera. Use of telephoto lens would be unsporting as well. You must get up close and personal with your prey. This may be checked upon request by producing the cell phone with photos in situ should anyone doubt the varacity of the Hunter.<br />
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Fourth, all photos are judged by a point system based on angle of view with extra points given according to a list provided. By our agreed upon point system, the Holy Grail of Mullet Hunters would be a group-shot of Mullets, all facing the camera with an old pickup, beer can(s) and the Mullet Hunter themself clearly visible in the photo touching one of the Mullets.<br />
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I'm at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to getting shots with myself in the photo as The Boy refuses to assist in the hunt. I have been known to hand friends my cell though to get that perfect plumage pic. One friend had a great idea that I may try out during the upcoming hunting season. She suggested carrying around a fake scavenger hunt list with one item listed being "Photo of yourself with a man with long hair". Might have to change the wording a bit, but it could work. I'm thinking of making it a birthday scavenger hunt and adding "holding a Happy Birthday sign" to the item. Then I can see how many pics I can get with Mullets holding a sign saying Happy Birthday to one of the judges. Bet I can garner a few extra style points for that one!<br />
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Happy Hunting!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-65413230979856515852010-04-11T23:01:00.000-04:002010-04-11T23:01:04.219-04:00DC in the Springtime<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kT-EApugI/AAAAAAAABcM/k227K9AGyuM/s1600/IMG_1989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kT-EApugI/AAAAAAAABcM/k227K9AGyuM/s200/IMG_1989.JPG" width="200" wt="true" /></a></div>Even though we've been back home from vacation for over a week, I can still close my eyes and smell cherry blossoms! The Boy and The GF were anxious to see the National Zoo, so I ventured out solo for a contemplative stroll amongest the trees along the tidal basin. It was still early in the day and, while many were out, most were observing this Springtime rite with a kind of quiet reverence and consideration for others, as evidenced by those that paused to allow photographers to complete their shots before passing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kZOE5ArcI/AAAAAAAABfU/eV-YdhJR3GU/s1600/IMG_2233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kZOE5ArcI/AAAAAAAABfU/eV-YdhJR3GU/s200/IMG_2233.JPG" width="133" wt="true" /></a>A group of monks clad in brilliant orange were capturing closeups of blossoms and a few shots of each other against the soft pink of the blooms to show those back home. Further along, an artist has set up her easel to capture Jefferson's profile with a floral foreground. Several people stop to watch her deftly stroke the painting to life. One young man rotates through three different cameras trying to capture the view from a precarious slope for everyone in his group. A young couple capture an angelic photo of their baby girl against a cloud of petals. Ducks and paddleboats float lazily through it all. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">After strolling around all morning, stretching out on the grass in the shadow cast by the Washington Memorial for a few minutes was heavenly. A few kids were flying colorfull kites nearby providing some entertainment while I caught my breath before visiting the Reflecting Pool and the War Memorials. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kdUxE8PqI/AAAAAAAABjw/urVQO6m-kjo/s1600/IMG_2454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kdUxE8PqI/AAAAAAAABjw/urVQO6m-kjo/s200/IMG_2454.JPG" width="200" wt="true" /></a></div>I've always found the Vietnam Memorial a very powerful, emotional tribute... but I was impressed by my first visit to the Korean War Memorial this trip as well. Statues of a patrolling troop make their way through the grass reflecting against a dark wall etched with images of their breathern. The artist captures the determination and fear on the faces of the soldiers in a way that will move you.</div><br />
Yours Truely has always been a sucker for photography... and I happily snapped pic after pic from all angles searching to capture that perfect iconic image. I was able to cull it down to slightly over 200 of the best pics to share with you. You'll find images from the Smithsonian's exhibits, Memorials, Monuments.... and Cherry Blossoms galore! Just wish I'd snapped a pic of the fellow practicing Tai Chi on the moving Metro car while holding a couple of donut boxes... Definately a novel exercise program, but I don't think it will catch on. Enjoy the show and let me know what you think!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<tr><td align="center" style="background: url(http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left 50%; height: 194px;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/TWolf2u/DC2010?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="160" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7i1l2onG2E/AAAAAAAABoM/soEgxXKT46U/s160-c/DC2010.jpg" style="margin: 1px 0px 0px 4px;" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/TWolf2u/DC2010?feat=embedwebsite" style="color: #4d4d4d; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">DC 2010</a></td></tr>
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</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a></div>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-58138208669055624482010-04-04T23:07:00.000-04:002010-04-04T23:07:32.808-04:00Hanging at the Hilltop HostelThe Boy, his girlfriend (aka The GF), and Yours Truly fled the state this past week for some long overdue downtime. We hit the road to Washington DC… home of monuments, museums, memorials, and the Cherry Blossom Festival. I considered seeing if The Boy would like to try his hand at interstate driving, but was dissuaded from the idea by the three car wreck in my rearview at just that moment. Nothing like hearing a “whoompf” and seeing bumpers flying in the air to wake you up in the morning! We were stopped for another wreck at the time, but luckily had just enough room to pull up and avoid being the fourth car in the stack. At least we got our close call for the week over early! <br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kfOx2U7cI/AAAAAAAABlU/XOjUVww1xSE/s1600-h/IMG_1826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" nt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kfOx2U7cI/AAAAAAAABlU/XOjUVww1xSE/s200/IMG_1826.JPG" width="200" /></a>After a long (9 hr) drive, we arrived at the Hilltop Hostel in Tacoma just outside DC. Our first hostel experience was definitely a fun one! The hostel is in an older, three-story house with tons of character. We were given a brief tour of the facilities, sheets for our beds and shown to our rooms. When I first made our reservations they were for just The Boy and myself, so I’d booked us into a private 2-person room. Since The GF was joining us, we’d kicked The Boy out into one of the co-ed dorm rooms. If you can handle walking up stairs to your room, bunk beds, and a relaxed college dorm like atmosphere complete with classic rock playing from the speakers, you'll love this place! The Boy and The GF especially enjoyed the game room downstairs where it's a tradition for guests to write or draw on the walls. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7lG_ccSbcI/AAAAAAAABmg/g3frbBQjj-w/s1600-h/IMG_1821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" nt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7lG_ccSbcI/AAAAAAAABmg/g3frbBQjj-w/s200/IMG_1821.JPG" width="193" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Menus, souvenirs and thank yous <br />
from guests festoon the wall</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Over the course of the week, we hung out with fellow travellers from all over the globe... kinda a surreal extended family feel to it in a way. There was the Japanese historian in town to explore documents at the National Archives for his next book in a spirited conversation with the out-of-work mason from the midwest about role of oil resources on World War II. Over here we have two groups from the UK, both traveling around the US but in different directions, comparing notes on various cities' hostels and social scenes. The young man from Germany here for an internship shared his bottle of wine with myself and a couple of the staff. The au pair who was going back to Sweden in a couple of weeks talked about how she'd miss the family she'd been with the last two years, but was looking forward to going to university on her return. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">One visitor was there from my hometown looking at apartments as she had accepted a job in DC and another was in town for an interview. There was the young man from Korea that watched "Gran Torino" with me one evening, laughing at the interplay between Clint Eastwood and the Hmong grandma. A couple of girls from China laughing with a staff member in the dining room and the mother of one of the staff shared memories of her life with me on the back porch one sunny evening. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kf_Rbd14I/AAAAAAAABmA/ZaRJlBucNmQ/s1600-h/IMG_2545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" nt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9QyrsvTMurw/S7kf_Rbd14I/AAAAAAAABmA/ZaRJlBucNmQ/s200/IMG_2545.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The last morning at the hostel I was debating on getting up, listening to the early risers moving around when I heard the shower in the bathroom next door to us turn on. Suddenly the air was filled with exuberant, full-throated song! I'm still not sure what language it was in, though it sounded slightly middle-Eastern. The GF and I both started giggling as we gave up on sleeping in. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Easter decorations were starting to spring up all over the hostel by the time we left. "Leaving so soon? Awww, you're going to miss the Easter Egg Hunt!" Next time I'll have to stay longer obviously... and there will be a next time. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Next Post:</strong> DC in Springtime</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-67753387878061226382010-03-28T22:20:00.000-04:002010-03-28T22:20:36.452-04:00BRBHow hectic has your life been lately? Mine's been non-stop! Never would have guessed from my recent lack of posts would ya. Never fear, dear reader, more tales are forthcoming... starting next weekend. Now that we've survived a recent round of school play practice and performance, work projects, regular car repair, emergency car repair, The Boy being sick, and then being sick myself.... we're off on a much needed vacation.<br />
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So I'll be back next weekend to describe the beauty of the Cherry Blossoms in Washington DC and what it was like to stay in our first hostel. I'll try to get a couple of good pictures to share as well! <br />
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Whew! Time really does fly by! Before you know it the Spring Mullet Hunt will be upon us.... but that's a whole other story.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-42711895891061191292010-03-03T23:23:00.000-05:002010-03-03T23:26:35.341-05:00Black PlasmaThey say the the human body is made up of over 55% water. My chemistry is a little more high-test then most, being composed mainly of thick, unadulterated java. My father worked for the railroad, a job which demanded that a pot of black coffee be brewing 24/7. I sure it was in the Transportation Union's rule book somewhere. And we’re talking railroad coffee here… Strong enough to remove any stray rust from the tracks. That’s what I was raised on and still require on a daily basis to lubricate what brain cells I have left.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOG3lh182ZUw3E0le3SMzlMjCJEhSC9258X8yLRufBAzEZN6G0UlQOn0Ay7f7yC7f1miLJdn8Nflch_tk-SXE3VHUCu4mSemKH8xCt6kaTMargSQa4_6sVJbm7lvWzb9Mgz9aW09hiZEQ/s1600-h/coffee%20kills.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOG3lh182ZUw3E0le3SMzlMjCJEhSC9258X8yLRufBAzEZN6G0UlQOn0Ay7f7yC7f1miLJdn8Nflch_tk-SXE3VHUCu4mSemKH8xCt6kaTMargSQa4_6sVJbm7lvWzb9Mgz9aW09hiZEQ/s200/coffee%20kills.jpg" width="200" /></a>At work the rule is that everything must be labeled on your desk. Ergo… I have a prominent spot on my desk marked off for my coffee cup. Being a bit of a wisenheimer, I thought long and hard over how to label my lifeline before narrowing it down to three choices. So I carefully folded some cardstock into a flip-able tri-folded sign bearing the labels “Java Chalice”, “Elixir of Life” and “Black Plasma”. Then because my favorite cup has become a permanent appendage, when removed from it’s place of honor you'll find a small label that reads… “Twolf is out of the office”. (I debated on placing a similar label on the seat of my chair, but thought better of it.)</div><br />
Recently a new food service vendor took over the cafeterias at work. I strolled in one morning to refill my cup, took a sip and shuddered. Someone in their management had the audacity to replace the brewed coffee machine with one that serves instant! We’re talking terrible instant coffee. Their brewed coffee was barely strong enough to begin with, but this swill is more akin to mop water then to coffee. Why the vending machines serve better! I couldn’t drink it… which lead to a sharp drop in my productivity that day.<br />
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Coffee for me is honestly medicinal. My blood pressure runs so low that without a good dose of caffeine my entire system threatens to shut down. If I accidentally run out of coffee at home, a ultra-sonic signal proceeds my vehicle down the interstate to work forcing the other drivers to give wide berth for their own safety. Well… it would probably be a valuable safety option when you think about it.<br />
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This leaves me in a quandary. Unfortunately the rules don’t allow me to bring in a coffee pot. I tried to bring a thermos, but it was obviously too early in the morning (4:30) for my brain to remember a new step in its usual auto-piloted routine. The thermos sat on my counter several mornings. A couple of times I did remember to fill it, but it never made it out the door. Finally I broke down and brought in a (slightly) more palatable instant coffee to use… leaving it in the car so that it would actually make it to work. (I’m not mentioning the two days that it took for me to remember to take it to my desk.) <br />
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Remember my new toy… the personal vaporizer (or electronic cigarette) that I recently took up instead of smoking that I mentioned in a <a 02="" 2010="" href="http://draft.blogger.com/”" http:="" miracle-of-miracles.html”="" twolf2u.blogspot.com="">previous post?</a> Thankfully the cafe mocha flavored nicotine juice that I’ve been puffing away on is full-bodied and flavorful. If I close my eyes, take a puff and then quickly slurp down some of what passes for coffee, maybe I can fool myself long enough to make it through a few more days. If you see a story on the news about some loony holding hostages in a factory lunchroom demanding a keg of Starbucks and a straw… remember me fondly.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-52166705024355792462010-02-25T23:16:00.003-05:002010-02-25T23:19:50.407-05:00"I see!" Said the Blind Man<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXqHXSjhk5x6grnXczD5YW6HmEi7ubrr-ORvP8Yegjq5_soWjPVxbRmK9XJHTaaCaYoOsnPsO5HRmtwVZLi7OnGV4vGak9f7iOqe2vKleLmsKglrcaJ1boiXgZ7TGHPn8NzI7D6qaPvgk/s1600-h/01%20Feb.%2025%2022.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXqHXSjhk5x6grnXczD5YW6HmEi7ubrr-ORvP8Yegjq5_soWjPVxbRmK9XJHTaaCaYoOsnPsO5HRmtwVZLi7OnGV4vGak9f7iOqe2vKleLmsKglrcaJ1boiXgZ7TGHPn8NzI7D6qaPvgk/s200/01%20Feb.%2025%2022.11.jpg" width="200" /></a>Back in the stone age when Yours Truly was fitted for her first pair of glasses, the style choices were fairly simple.... black cat eyeglasses. Think I had the choice of red or tortoise shell later on, but black was the only option for the first pair. G-Ma had never realized just how bad my eyesight was until that ride home on a fine Tennessee day with my first glasses. I had never known that we lived near mountains or, for that matter, what billboards were. Talk about an eye-opener!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">When you're truly blind though, I don't think style is as much of concern. Function over form is my rule of thumb on such matters. I've worn glasses held together by duct tape and superglue. I've "repaired" glasses with paperclips in place of lost screws. Necessity isn't just the mother of invention... She's the embodiment of pure creative force. It's amazing how creative you can get when your toddler proudly holds up something resembling a pretzel, proclaiming "I get your glasses, Mommy!" and you've got to be at work shortly.<br />
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Eventually I progressed into the wonderful world of bifocals. If you've never worn these gems, let me tell you the first few days will have your head spinning. Just walking from the parking lot at work to my desk made me a wee bit seasick that first morning. As mentioned before, I work in an automotive plant. Cars are moving on carriers overhead, tow motors loaded with parts are passing by, the assembly line is in constant movement... in short, not much stands still there and you have to keep an eye on your surroundings to navigate safely throughout. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that any movement of my head resulted in the wavering of my vision. This is what I imagine that "drunk glasses" must be like. By the time I reached my desk, I was ready to hang on to something solid and see if I could just ride out this storm for the day. Of course, this would be the day that I was asked if I'd like to go for a ride along at the test track. That's the first and only time so far that I've been given the opportunity. If I'd only thought to bring along my old glasses, I'd of been on the track in a heartbeat! <br />
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I told my boss at the time that I blamed her for my failing eyesight. She scrawled itsy-bitsy notes in pencil as she reviewed material. I actually purchased a large magnifying glass with a light that attached to my desk to be able to read her writing. Once I had a question about a notation she'd made and asked her about it. The note in question consisted of two minuscule scrawls, almost short wavy lines really, that were totally illegible. She glanced at it and said "That says 'bumper at headlamp levelness'". Incredulous, I blurted out "Oh... Now you're just making something up! Even you can't read that mess. Either make an effort or you're buying my first seeing eye dog!" She laughed, but at least all future notes bore a closer relationship to the English language.</div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-13521832001438009642010-02-21T17:53:00.000-05:002010-02-21T17:53:14.357-05:00Miracle of the Olympic Spirit"The important thing is not to win, but to take part" - Pierre de Coubertin, IOC Founder<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The Olympic spirit is alive and well in our household. We've delighted in the opening ceremony, held our breath through close calls and falls, exclaimed aloud at amazing feats, cheered on our favorites, and reminisced on past Olympics. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Since ancient times, the Olympics were a time of truce amongst nations. This year's Olympic experience has brought it's own renewed sense of peace and sharing into our lives.... Just in time to spare The Boy from himself.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Beginning just a week or so before his 18th birthday, The Boy literally lost his mind. Everything became an argument... any remark a point of contention... any question met with a curt "that's not your problem any more." In short, I was beginning to debate the pros and cons of retroactive abortion. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The real breaking point came when I received a call at work from an irate parent about a derogatory comment that The Boy had posted online. While The Boy insisted that he couldn't understand what all the fuss was about, he did remove the comment and apologize to the person in question. As a result, he was grounded on his 18th birthday with his cell phone, computer, and iPod confiscated. This, of course, lead to our small apartment becoming a veritable battleground with heated debate over whether I had the right to impose such penalties now that he'd come of age. Much to my anguish, the words "there's the door" came up more then once. Over the next several weeks, we progressed into a stony silence broken only if absolutely required. I'd begun to despair that our relationship would ever be quite the same again.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Then came the Olympics. The Boy decided, rather then holing up in his room, he'd venture out to watch with me. Before you knew it, we were holding civil conversations again. We were able to find a common ground over competition. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXuMGjhJBi9HBKY0fouL_KbbFdXFk6Jx8EWpigsB6hJWS3C3IN92CephtGZeiRuojsGWCvtJugRH26_NuPjku783C3Ojr1MXYIlWXtTpwRxfFnHq0Zio4AU5JFcf3daF6Wt3FgFfMFs4/s1600-h/swhite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXuMGjhJBi9HBKY0fouL_KbbFdXFk6Jx8EWpigsB6hJWS3C3IN92CephtGZeiRuojsGWCvtJugRH26_NuPjku783C3Ojr1MXYIlWXtTpwRxfFnHq0Zio4AU5JFcf3daF6Wt3FgFfMFs4/s320/swhite.jpg" width="256" /></a>We watched Shaun White take the gold in snowboarding and talked about how star-struck The Boy had been when he gotten Shaun's autograph on his skateboard a few years back during the Dew Tour. He couldn't even stammer a response when Shaun had commented that he used to have the same Tony Hawk Birdhouse design. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We laughed remembering how his friend who'd joined us at that Dew Tour had laid down right in front of the Mad Magazine stand like he was taking a nap while waiting on The Boy to get a caricature drawn. The guy manning the stand had lined his body with Mad Magazines in a strange crime scene parody. I've got a picture somewhere of a <strike>midget</strike> little person leaning over to see if this was some publicity stunt dummy. Strange child, but a hilarious moment!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Then it happened... The Boy apologized for being so hard-headed and asked if we could put it all behind us. Take about relief! Since then The Boy has regained his common sense and settled back down into his usual, easy-going self... always ready with a grin and a funny quip to brighten the day.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, Dear Reader, forgive me for updating sporadically of late... I've been too busy enjoying having The Boy back. Who knew the healing power of the Olympic spirit could effect such a miracle!</div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-37288604648471269892010-02-14T01:23:00.001-05:002010-02-14T01:24:32.133-05:00Bad Hair DaysWhat's the worst haircut or style that you've ever been subjected to? Did it really seem like a good idea at the time? Yours Truly has had her share, believe me! G-Ma loves to pull out a few old pics of me just for a laugh that display some regrettable choices over the years. I'll admit a 'fro was not the best look for a geeky, teenaged white gal. Not all of the bad styles were of my choosing though.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYO9HE8hdNg0qtiHlCAJr0LTBgGKP1JmSfvzz6Mxq3qWCWmw_C4cocURwdJnxGZllLhcAufdabjjjXGLOvYZlqYL-5YRoU-hBLI3zM_O1TO2DMMi39LoYr6zOozHGjtPLkXYZHMuFSWg/s1600-h/09%20Feb.%2014%2000.23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYO9HE8hdNg0qtiHlCAJr0LTBgGKP1JmSfvzz6Mxq3qWCWmw_C4cocURwdJnxGZllLhcAufdabjjjXGLOvYZlqYL-5YRoU-hBLI3zM_O1TO2DMMi39LoYr6zOozHGjtPLkXYZHMuFSWg/s200/09%20Feb.%2014%2000.23.jpg" width="147" /></a>I was always a wee too butch for G-Ma's liking. She spent the better part of my early childhood trying to force this tomboy into her feminine ideal of a daughter. For example, for my first grade photo she insisted on teasing my hair up into an authentic 50's beehive hairdo complete with a little bow. Remember that style? If you can tear your eyes away from that billowing mass of hair to look at my face, you can easily tell how thrilled I was. Jeez! It was a pink bow too! The Boy finds this photo particularly hilarious.</div><br />
A few years later, G-Ma owned a hair salon and wig shop located in an A-framed building that she named "The Wig-Wam". It was about this time that she decided, after having watched the stylists that worked for her, that it couldn't be that hard. Why not save some money and cut our hair herself. I was the lucky guinea pig for this little experiment. <br />
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She happily clipped away, but then noticed that one side was a wee bit shorter then the other. Oh well, just shorten the other side to match. Hummm... now that side is too short. Let's just shorten it up a bit more.... Get the picture? She finally admitted defeat and called one of the stylists out of desperation. By that time, my hair was fairly chopped up. I ended up with the first pixie hairstyle ever seen in that neck of the woods. Think that Twiggy made the style popular in the sixties. Now the style is fairly popular with everyone from Ellen to Pink sporting it. At that time, not so much. G-Ma has a pic of Yours Truly in full Brownie uniform with that pixie cut barely poking out from under the beanie. I loved it myself and was sporting a silly grin in the photo. G-Ma was, of course, suitably embarrassed for us both.<br />
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I've been sporting a short, almost pixish style for most of my adult life as well. Often it's hiden under ballcap. A great strategy for bad hair days. The Boy, of course, gets suitably embarrassed for us both when anyone addresses me as "Sir". Doesn't usually bother me though... unless it's followed by "That's the <em>Women's</em> restroom!"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-44074509332641869822010-02-12T23:12:00.000-05:002010-02-12T23:12:30.581-05:00Miracle of Miracles!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFQ7loJ3alJCrhgfzzeBv6qfxMOyiY1CbKXm6KVI5f0HMKZ8G2eZ3c01R_yb3sgC4f5WET5bjKDEeiRY_j3CQsdUWfKOkWTKxKisn7-ltyqX-9QwDo11qu6nujRqd9uxPhmC2P7mDU0U/s1600-h/smoke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFQ7loJ3alJCrhgfzzeBv6qfxMOyiY1CbKXm6KVI5f0HMKZ8G2eZ3c01R_yb3sgC4f5WET5bjKDEeiRY_j3CQsdUWfKOkWTKxKisn7-ltyqX-9QwDo11qu6nujRqd9uxPhmC2P7mDU0U/s200/smoke.jpg" width="200" /></a>Yours Truly has experienced an absolute miracle this week! First let me share that I've been a smoker for over 30 years now. I know.... nasty habit, terribly unhealthy, and I was totally addicted. Today for the first time, I've seen a light at the end of that tobacco tunnel... and it's not emanating from a Zippo!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yesterday, after weeks of researching, I received my first personal vaperizer (PV), a Janty eGo, and have only smoked 3... count 'em!... 3 cigarettes since then! This is a pure miracle for someone who usually puffs through almost two packs (roughly 36-37) cigs a day. I'm excited and The Boy is tickled pink that I may quit stinking up the place. G-Ma, who quit several years ago, is thrilled too... Though she's going to miss pilfering the occasional cig from me to hide for those stressful times. Who'd of thought it! I can still get my nicotine fix, but without the tar, the 4,000+ cancer causing chemicals, or spreading second-hard smoke in a cloud around me!<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8QARrDlJSDoGduo9qC91lpGSdFosCG-khVzs1MN0-tZY9cZ0uFVcb4YDJvmVcqsUYeoHNtpP1WVvYwi_4wF42eVgS0aULipRIJ93l8P6VLZKwKCWuJhKmZWmM2C3g8kSuCMIC-x4zhx4/s1600-h/ego.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" ct="true" height="48" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8QARrDlJSDoGduo9qC91lpGSdFosCG-khVzs1MN0-tZY9cZ0uFVcb4YDJvmVcqsUYeoHNtpP1WVvYwi_4wF42eVgS0aULipRIJ93l8P6VLZKwKCWuJhKmZWmM2C3g8kSuCMIC-x4zhx4/s200/ego.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Once my taste buds come back, I'm going to have to try some of the flavors that the e-juice (nicotine liquid) comes in. Wonder how good that Banana Split juice is? Don't think I could handle the Bacon flavor though! Anyway, just had to share my joy with you all.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>Note: If you or someone you know is interested in getting off the cancer sticks, I'd advise doing your own research first. The </em><a href="http://www.e-cigarette-forum.com/forum/"><em>E-Cigarette Forum</em></a><em> is a great place to start with a lot of information.</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a></div>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-52197407750430567852010-02-06T22:58:00.002-05:002010-02-06T23:06:51.018-05:00Happy Award!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPmXX0L0Kmy2W2IPwQyH0ewwSF798_jpAUP5CmiMITAOf8aoxBayCh5BOfCki4_Q9WE6KE_3NkIId7J-NF4PEpdDq-ADZmS0Xqoz6Wb_kRttbPW95Y6UVxPirBjwYbqhsFLJZGpvlyUYU/s1600-h/happy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPmXX0L0Kmy2W2IPwQyH0ewwSF798_jpAUP5CmiMITAOf8aoxBayCh5BOfCki4_Q9WE6KE_3NkIId7J-NF4PEpdDq-ADZmS0Xqoz6Wb_kRttbPW95Y6UVxPirBjwYbqhsFLJZGpvlyUYU/s1600/happy.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Thanks to Aion at <a href="http://iblogyourprofile.blogspot.com/">I Blog Your Profile</a> for presenting me with the Happy Award! I feel so honored considering that I've barely begun my journey into this great, wide world of Blogging. I was actually having a fairly stressful week, so his announcement came as a wonderful surprise to bright my outlook.<br />
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Visit <a href="http://iblogyourprofile.blogspot.com/">Aion and Nicole</a> for great reviews of the myriad blogs and bloggers out there. You may find a few gems that you'd overlooked!<br />
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Here's how it works: List 10 things that make you happy and then pass this award along to 10 bloggers that make you happy. So.... Here goes!</div><br />
<div></div>10 Things that make me happy are...<br />
<ol><li>A steaming, unadulterated mug of strong coffee</li>
<li>Relaxing beside a creek in the mountains listening to the water play over the rocks</li>
<li>Curling up with a good book... preferably sci-fi</li>
<li>When The Boy breaks out of teenage stoicism into in a full-blown, ear-to-ear grin </li>
<li>Rediscovering my artistic streak through photography </li>
<li>Feeling useful to others... whether it's holding the door for a neighbor or building an application to make life a little easier for a co-worker</li>
<li>Winning our daily Scrabble game at work... especially since I'm by far the worst speller</li>
<li>Watching The Boy's marching band perform... or any marching band for that matter!</li>
<li>Indulging my sweet tooth with some of G-Ma's homemade pumpkin rolls</li>
<li>Introducing The Boy to any of the great old(er) movies that are on my "must see" list </li>
</ol><br />
<div></div>And the Bloggers who make me happy, in no particular order, are.....<br />
<ul><li>Maureen at <a href="http://www.ratherbeblogging.com/">I'd Rather be Blogging</a></li>
<li>Mr. Stupid at <a href="http://stupidation.blogspot.com/">High Radiation of Stupidity</a> </li>
<li>Don at <a href="http://www.beyondleftfield.net/">Beyond Left Field</a></li>
<li>Peach Tart at <a href="http://thepeachtart.blogspot.com/">The Peach Tart</a> </li>
<li>Wide Lawns at <a href="http://widelawns.blogspot.com/">Wide Lawns and Narrow Minds</a> </li>
<li>Tina at <a href="http://thecleanwhitepage.com/">The Clean White Page</a> </li>
<li>BabblinBob at <a href="http://plainolebob.blogspot.com/">Plain Ole Bob</a></li>
<li>Fish at <a href="http://plentymorefishoutofwater.blogspot.com/">Plenty More Fish Out of Water</a> </li>
<li>Lesley at <a href="http://lesleymodallas.blogspot.com/">My Turn to Talk</a> </li>
<li>Larry at <a href="http://thekingsarse.blogspot.com/">Your Favorite Neighborhood Pub</a> (The Pub just opened, but I'm already a regular!)</li>
</ul><div> I hope that the Happy Award adds some joy to your day, too!</div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-1755806532606020682010-02-03T23:22:00.000-05:002010-02-03T23:22:23.566-05:00G-Ma's JourneysAfter five years as caregiver to my bed-ridden grandmother, surviving cancer, raising four children, and spending numerous years explaining the concept of self-sufficency to the Brothers; G-Ma has been fullfilling a life-long dream the past couple of years.... as a disaster relief volunteer with the Red Cross. Everytime she's called the last few weeks, I've had a moment's panic that I'd find out she'd volunteered to go to Haiti. I'd be a nervous wreck worrying about her if she did considering the conditions in the aftermath of the earthquakes. Keep in mind that she's almost 70 years old and long past her "roughing it in a tent city" days. <br />
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I mentioned my irrational fear to her the other day only to be told that 1) the Red Cross hadn't sent out a call for volunteers in her area and 2) she was already tentatively scheduled for a mission trip to Haiti in May.... By the way, when's The Boy's graduation date as she may be out of the country if she still plans on joining the group. After all, conditions should be better there by then, shouldn't they? <em>*deep, calming breaths.... breath in.... breath out.....* </em>I swear she's intent on giving me gray hair now too!<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezEJc6L3Jaw6DMUGgDnzQXNk1eAQxE0gMk6Pq5zUNfb_oAE2laZIYNdrBOcX5ehVDR0cUtDvE-WjxMrfJ72h9D0MMBh5YZOlAW2-P4i0dBeJ9EQwtTsNS5skCV_o18qC4juKz9Kjj5Jo/s1600-h/checkpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezEJc6L3Jaw6DMUGgDnzQXNk1eAQxE0gMk6Pq5zUNfb_oAE2laZIYNdrBOcX5ehVDR0cUtDvE-WjxMrfJ72h9D0MMBh5YZOlAW2-P4i0dBeJ9EQwtTsNS5skCV_o18qC4juKz9Kjj5Jo/s200/checkpoint.jpg" width="200" /></a>Her volunteer trips have been relatively uneventful, other then the occassional traipse through flooded houses to evaluate damages. There was that time in Texas though.... It was her first trip for the Red Cross as well as her first time flying. G-Ma had been working with flood victims a few hours south of Houston and was heading back home. To catch her flight out of Houston, she had to leave before dawn. She hadn't seen another car for quite awhile when she sees what she takes to be a toll booth up ahead. Nope, G-Ma discovers it a checkpoint as she pulls to a stop for the Officer. As he walks around her car, she rolled the window down.... "Morning! I wonder if you could tell me where I am and how much futher it is to Houston. I have to catch a flight there this morning." The Officer replied in a thick accent, "Senorita, you are going the wrong way. You are in Mexico." G-Ma was definately awake now! She must have taken a wrong turn in the dark... she'd never make the flight.... didn't own a passport... What was she going to do!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">G-Ma's panic must have been written all over her face as the Officer laughingly waved her fears away... "No, no! I'm sorry, Ma'am! You're heading in the right direction. Houston's about an hour away. I was just kidding." I guess checkpoints can get a wee bit boring. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Since then she's traveled to several other states with the Red Cross and embarked on a short mission trip to Guatamala. Hopefully she'll listen to reason and not trek off to anywhere too dangerous though. Don't think I could take the stress. Sometimes I feel like I'm the parent... waiting up to hear that she's home safe. Strange how the lines blur over the years.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a><br />
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<em><span style="font-size: 85%;"></span></em>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-53344116332906767892010-01-31T13:30:00.000-05:002010-02-25T21:10:50.277-05:00Atta Boy!Though Yours Truly is pet-less at this time due to the rules of my current abode, I've owned both dogs and cats over the years, usually raising them together. Today I thought I'd share with you some tales of my favorite furry friends from years past...<br />
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Once while G-Ma was cat-sitting for Yours Truly, she was startled awake during the middle of the night by the sound of her doorbell. Peeking out the small window in the door, as well as through the front curtains, she didn’t see a soul. G-Ma figured that some teenagers were having fun at her expense and went back to bed. About 10 minutes later, the doorbell rang again. This time G-Ma thought she could catch them if she was quick about it, so she rushed to the door and flung it open. Imagine her surprise when there sat my cat on the ledge beside the door. She said that the cat “jumped down to the stoop, and, when I opened the screen door, gave me a piece of his mind as he walked past me…. fussing at me for not letting him in the first time he rang! I didn’t even know the cat was outside!”<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">G-Ma used to freak out when Midnight and King would start play fighting. She never got used to watching the huge dog take the entire cat's head in his mouth, shake him around and then toss him aside. Of course, Midnight loved it! He'd roll to a stop and be ready to pounce back in a heartbeat. G-Ma was just sure his neck was going to get broken eventually. I think it was all part of their plan to entice G-Ma to once again fly out of the house with a broom to stop the fight. They'd dodge around her with huge grins everytime.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOMe-AVV6OxGZANJYha_A4aVxPJolC9I4rQOSdfl2NHki4_dYfXiCIO9sdNC56r7CpsVa7Ff655SrUjalHLVX4-ZQR3V_LfGtF-_9x86k-d3VnFzteMDZeaLDrNwLsMRX0lMhSBFqerI/s1600-h/dog-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOMe-AVV6OxGZANJYha_A4aVxPJolC9I4rQOSdfl2NHki4_dYfXiCIO9sdNC56r7CpsVa7Ff655SrUjalHLVX4-ZQR3V_LfGtF-_9x86k-d3VnFzteMDZeaLDrNwLsMRX0lMhSBFqerI/s200/dog-cat.jpg" width="150" /></a>I heard a bunch of dogs barking and growling in the backyard one day. Reaching the back of the house, I opened the door to find myself face to face with my cat, clinging to the screen door with all his might. Just behind him on the back porch paced my dog, ferociously daring a large pack of neighborhood canines to step any closer. It's always good to know that family has your back!</div><br />
King was a very patient fellow. He was a mix with the coloration of his German Shepard side and the long-haired size of the Sheepdog side, which gave him the look of a Collie. G-Ma used to lay a large quilt in the backyard for the Brothers to crawl around on while she was doing yardwork. She'd lay the twins in the middle of the quilt and call King over. "Watch the babies", she'd instruct him and off she'd go. King took this task very seriously. He'd lay down on the quilt with them, allowing them to crawl over and around him while he watched.... Eventually one of the twins would start crawling toward the edge of the quilt. King would gently grab hold of the adventurer's diaper and slowly pull him back to the center of the quilt. The twins loved this and would giggle their delight each time. <br />
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I'd had Cuddles for a few years when The Boy was born. Needless to say, it took awhile for Cuddles to come to gripes with this annoying, little being I'd brought home. Cuddles would loudly meow his displeasure at first, but slowly began to be won over. Cuddle always slept burrowed under the covers with his head resting right beneath my chin. One night, The Boy was restless and I laid him in bed beside me. As I lay there on my side with a hand resting over the baby, Cuddles jumped up to lay down. He promptly burrowed in between us to his usual spot without disturbing The Boy, then gently rested his paw on the baby's side as well. Being a single parent can have its drawbacks. I really wish someone else had been present with a camera to capture the serenity of that moment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s1600-h/wolffooter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcqGO_scUskdLOM2rVBURLLFFtVMWvnjTN_XXDG6gD6hfxeL1Xxsm4r2aHHeHNyF0wHc2dSS4SbJ9UuJRj98PNIoP-TqsolWxEUuCoDZq4fxeWXOHasjOWHjLbUHt3_plpUejnTRN9PM/s320/wolffooter.gif" /></a><br />
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<em><span style="font-size: 85%;"></span></em>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648449611583946535.post-22453855453990712502010-01-25T21:06:00.001-05:002010-01-25T22:17:44.440-05:00Nip it in the bud!The Brothers have run through several jobs over the years. The list includes numerous fast food positions. I don’t think there’s a fast food joint within 10 miles of G-Ma that hasn’t been graced with the presence of one of the Brothers over the years. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjU0CgRci_XVF9_2lAK8Irx5J6Nf_GA1SKH8dNRa2o4idhT5jD9S3mOnmsmN_u8wprb5VkuZR5fTABa6J-ok4hI8lmnn5z1qzarsH4Bew9xXbNM6qi8j2SXvdGsCzUiwuOVyWE8JzKq7c/s1600-h/barney_flag_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjU0CgRci_XVF9_2lAK8Irx5J6Nf_GA1SKH8dNRa2o4idhT5jD9S3mOnmsmN_u8wprb5VkuZR5fTABa6J-ok4hI8lmnn5z1qzarsH4Bew9xXbNM6qi8j2SXvdGsCzUiwuOVyWE8JzKq7c/s200/barney_flag_0.jpg" width="200" /></a>Brother2’s love of uniforms has lead to a rash of security jobs. Even his email address begins with “Officer”. Thankfully, he’s not qualified for jobs that require a firearm. Recently he’s not been scheduled for more than three nights a week though, putting him in financial straits. Yours Truly asked if he was looking for additional work over the holidays only to be told that he couldn’t risk a second job as he’s on call 24/7. Translation: They might call me in if the stars are aligned just right.<br />
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G-Ma tells me that Brother2 has finally realized that he has to find an additional source of income. Of course, this comes after a few weeks after she finally admitted to having bailed out his over-drawn bank account and having bought him a used car when his died. “He was talking about how he was going to lose his job and apartment! I couldn’t handle the thought that he might need to move back in too!!” <br />
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Brother2’s master plan has Yours Truly a bit concerned though. According to G-Ma, he’s found out that he can sell plasma four times a week at $25 a visit. Now there’s a brilliant idea. First, I don’t think they allow you to sell plasma more than twice a week, not to mention potential health issues. It could also affect his main source of income. I mean, imagine Barney Fife sporting a ghastly pallor, listlessly wondering around your place of work at night. Not a pleasant thought.<br />
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Meanwhile, G-Ma’s busy looking up horror stories of blood donors to confront him with. I’m betting after he passes out the first time from low blood he’ll start working on Plan B.<br />
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<em><span style="font-size: 85%;"></span></em>TWolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05782339585482812312noreply@blogger.com0