<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965</id><updated>2011-07-08T05:47:03.992-04:00</updated><category term='boo'/><category term='house'/><category term='baseball'/><category term='sanity'/><category term='dad'/><category term='alcohol'/><category term='birds'/><category term='hubby'/><category term='girls'/><category term='work'/><category term='books'/><title type='text'>PTOOIE on you too.</title><subtitle type='html'>adventures with 2 toddlers, a spouse working nights, and buying a house.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6194406898798953982</id><published>2010-02-26T12:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T12:24:43.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>upgrade!</title><content type='html'>I have a new phone!&lt;br /&gt;Well, technically, it's an old phone but it's new to me! Father got himself infatuated with the Droid Eris a couple weeks ago, so he went out and bought one. Unlocked, for to stay on his current plan. That was about $500.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Clearly, father has too much money. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he was raving about the specs of the Eris, sounding more and more like he would indeed be getting it, I told him if he did get it, I wanted his current phone, an EnV Touch.&lt;br /&gt;FedEx left it at my door yesterday.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.verizon-phones.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/verizon-lg-env-touch-cell-phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 570px; height: 395px;" src="http://www.verizon-phones.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/verizon-lg-env-touch-cell-phone.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;photo borrowed with thanks from &lt;a href="http://www.verizon-phones.org/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must hand it to Verizon- they make it quite easy to swap phones online. Much easier than I remember it being with Sprint, who I was with for 9+ years. Enter the ESN, wait about 5 minutes, and poof! Good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting all my ringtones on the new phone was a joy, as always. Save everything onto hubby's SD card, then send them all to myself attached to a picture message, then save them all as ringtones on my phone. Actually, that is easy when doing 1 or 2. I was doing 15.&lt;br /&gt;At least this time I didn't make hubby help. I've done that before when he's at work and I'm at home playing with sound editing software. He gets tired of it quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to decide if I want to keep my Voyager around as a backup or offer to sell it to a guy at work who's son has broken 2 yes TWO Voyagers in the past year. His first one was replaced under warranty, the second was out of warranty so he's back on an older phone for now, until he's due for an upgrade in about a year.&lt;br /&gt;I am also impatiently waiting on screen protector and case to arrive. Can't believe father didn't have a screen protector on the thing, especially since he left the factory protector thing on the inside screen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6194406898798953982?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6194406898798953982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/02/upgrade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6194406898798953982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6194406898798953982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/02/upgrade.html' title='upgrade!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-1503106871107490228</id><published>2010-02-20T11:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T11:59:52.812-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>friggin cheapskate kids</title><content type='html'>So my children were downstairs playing. Suddenly they came running up, saying "oh here's the store, let's get some fruitsnacks." They opened the pantry and stared longingly up at the fruitsnacks (on the top shelf, for what should be obvious reasons). Then they came to me, sitting on the couch reading. "We want fruitsnacks! We want to get some fruitsnacks!" I made them each ask nicely (adorable from the 2year old), and went into the kitchen. As I was getting down the fruitsnacks, I asked "How are you going to pay for these?" and the 4yo instantly answered "well, this is back to being our house now, not a store."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-1503106871107490228?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/1503106871107490228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/02/friggin-cheapskate-kids.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/1503106871107490228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/1503106871107490228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/02/friggin-cheapskate-kids.html' title='friggin cheapskate kids'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6610328747854143283</id><published>2010-01-22T11:36:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T12:16:40.017-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alcohol'/><title type='text'>good tidings to you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nWaLtEXXI/AAAAAAAAAFw/3bOwbKxC0Bs/s1600-h/DSCF0925.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nWaLtEXXI/AAAAAAAAAFw/3bOwbKxC0Bs/s200/DSCF0925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429606571078606194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For Christmas, the hubby gave me a 12 bottle wine cooler. He was quite pleased with himself. I was pleased also, though it is not quite the version I had envisioned when originally planning to get one. Naturally, on the 26th I had a fun time stocking up on wine now that I had somewhere to put multiple bottles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nW3DhZcFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/yvpRRBjQMos/s1600-h/DSCF0928.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nW3DhZcFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/yvpRRBjQMos/s200/DSCF0928.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429607067098378322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... I have 6 in the cooler and 1 open up in the kitchen (or 'chitchen' as Boo says). What do I have? I will happily show you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top row:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nXRsBP4EI/AAAAAAAAAGA/_JkhsHg20Zk/s1600-h/DSCF0929.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nXRsBP4EI/AAAAAAAAAGA/_JkhsHg20Zk/s200/DSCF0929.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429607524645986370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lindemans Bin 50 Shiraz, 2008. Dad enjoyed something else, possibly the Merlot, so I decided to try this. Also Lucky Duck Malbec, 2008. This is from Argentina, however Cahors wines are pretty much Malbec so I'm taking a chance on this. (Keep reading for Cahors.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Middle rows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nX2lpUV0I/AAAAAAAAAGI/IHo_sytj43g/s1600-h/DSCF0930.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nX2lpUV0I/AAAAAAAAAGI/IHo_sytj43g/s200/DSCF0930.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429608158590162754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chateau Greysac Medoc, 2005. I saw this on special in the grocery store and texted my dad "Where's Medoc?" He replied it was "north of Bordeaux, try it you'll like it". So I got it. On the right is my ever faithful ever present Little Penguin Shiraz. I love this stuff. Their Merlot is very good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom row: the good stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nX9Mm50II/AAAAAAAAAGQ/M-bqIZ5JYyo/s1600-h/DSCF0931.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nX9Mm50II/AAAAAAAAAGQ/M-bqIZ5JYyo/s200/DSCF0931.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429608272128233602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cahors wines!! YUM! On the left is Chateau Grezels Prestige, 2004. I have a special place in my heart for Cahors wines and Grezels in particular. My aunt lives in Cahors. I've been there. Even better, my aunt is friends with the couple who own Chateau Grezels. I've been there. Dad and I were sent home with a case of their wine when we visited in 2003.  The bottle on the right is something dad picked up in a Paris store during one of his visits a couple years ago. I consider Cahors wines my 'special occasion' stuff.  (French geography lesson: &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=cahors&amp;amp;oe=utf-8&amp;amp;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&amp;amp;client=firefox-a&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;hq=&amp;amp;hnear=Cahors,+France&amp;amp;gl=us&amp;amp;ei=tNtZS6DBCpHCNa2HgYQP&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=geocode_result&amp;amp;ct=title&amp;amp;resnum=1&amp;amp;ved=0CAwQ8gEwAA"&gt;Cahors&lt;/a&gt; is in south-western France on the Lot river, about an hour (40miles) north of Toulouse. From there you can easily drive to visit &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=toulouse&amp;amp;oe=utf-8&amp;amp;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&amp;amp;client=firefox-a&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;hq=&amp;amp;hnear=Toulouse,+France&amp;amp;gl=us&amp;amp;ei=69tZS92eF5XYNffk8IIP&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=geocode_result&amp;amp;ct=title&amp;amp;resnum=1&amp;amp;ved=0CAsQ8gEwAA"&gt;Toulouse&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rocamadour"&gt;Rocamadour&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.quercy.net/pechmerle/index.html"&gt;Pech Merle&lt;/a&gt;, and other lovely places.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the kitchen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nYCM7WzdI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wGNC8axqUHg/s1600-h/DSCF0923.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nYCM7WzdI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wGNC8axqUHg/s200/DSCF0923.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429608358113365458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Coppola's Syrah-Shiraz. I admit, I bought this for the novelty of who makes it. But this is GOOD. Really really GOOD. Typically a bottle of this lasts me 2 days. I've stretched this one, I've drunk from it 2 days and I have a small glass worth left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, for the evenings when wine just doesn't go well with dinner (like taco night), there is always always this in the fridge:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ratebeer.com/beerimages/full_size/909.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 547px;" src="http://www.ratebeer.com/beerimages/full_size/909.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;photo borrowed from&lt;a href="http://www.ratebeer.com/beer/shiner-bock/909/"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Because you can take the man out of Texas but by golly, you better be able to get him his beer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6610328747854143283?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6610328747854143283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-tidings-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6610328747854143283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6610328747854143283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-tidings-to-you.html' title='good tidings to you'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/S1nWaLtEXXI/AAAAAAAAAFw/3bOwbKxC0Bs/s72-c/DSCF0925.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2302931863953153725</id><published>2010-01-18T06:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T06:24:12.979-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>power issues</title><content type='html'>The streetlights in front of our house (and in the whole back section of our neighborhood) came on for the first time Friday night. They came on Saturday night at dusk, but around midnight they were off. In fact, all the streetlights in the whole place went off. They've stayed off since.&lt;br /&gt;Hubby reported our power blinked 3 times Sunday while I was at work. I staggered downstairs a few minutes late this morning, calculating quite how long I could nurse my cup of coffee before leaving the house, and stared blankly at the coffeemaker blinking "12:00" at me. No coffee. That's not good.&lt;br /&gt;I quickly set the clock(s) in the kitchen and hit Brew Now, but it's not the same. I feel rushed. I like to savor the morning coffee.&lt;br /&gt;And to just top off this morning, my boss is gone. Starting his new position in Dallas.&lt;br /&gt;Blah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2302931863953153725?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2302931863953153725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/power-issues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2302931863953153725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2302931863953153725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/power-issues.html' title='power issues'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-5748893047390247561</id><published>2010-01-13T18:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T18:30:06.853-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>I think that went well...</title><content type='html'>It's nice to be home.&lt;br /&gt;I spent the day in Chicago O'Hare- fly in, wander for a half hour, have an interview for the Supervisor position at home, wander for another couple hours, fly home.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like doing interviews. I don't like selling myself, I prefer to let my actions speak for me. This wasn't so bad, the hiring manager has known me since I started with the company almost 9 years ago, and she knows I know my stuff. The issue is can I control my mouth (I didn't, until a few years ago). The other manager she had sitting in was a maintenance supervisor, who had no idea who I was at all. That was almost a good thing. I think I gave good answers to the questions, as odd as they were. (Personal favorite: What level supervision are you comfortable working with? which at first I thought meant how close did I want someone looking over my shoulder, but turned out they meant am I comfortable working with base managers, regional managers, VPs, etc. Since the 'Managing Director of NorthEast Maintenance' is based in Columbus, and he &amp;amp; I get along fine, I said I'm good with most anybody, though the CEO is still a little intimidating.)(actually, his position and title are intimidating. The actual man doesn't impress me at all.)&lt;br /&gt;There was one other interview today, and there are 5 tomorrow, and that's all. Our current supervisor's last day is Friday, then Monday he starts his new position in Dallas. The hiring manager hopes to select somebody and get them in right away, which in our company's timeline is about a month.&lt;br /&gt;The flight home was fun, I was sitting next to a pilot who was picking up a plane in Columbus and taking it to Nashville. He and I spent a while discussing why on earth a plane would go from CMH to BNA, finally settled on something must be broken in Nashville and they need to cover a flight. Then he and I traded company gossip, because different departments hear different things. Then we just bullshitted for a while. On approach, we peered out the window looking for Les Wexner's house. Wexner owns the Limited Corp (Limited, Express, Bath &amp;amp; Body Works, etc). Seems every plane coming into Columbus has to do this huuuuge circle to avoid New Albany for noise issues, and flight crews have heard it's so Wexner doesn't have to hear airplanes. I can find the house (the driveway is all you can see) from the road, but we were too far south to see it from the air. I did see my house!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-5748893047390247561?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/5748893047390247561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-think-that-went-well.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5748893047390247561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5748893047390247561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-think-that-went-well.html' title='I think that went well...'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-5445772662564521912</id><published>2010-01-07T21:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:18:17.784-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>back to the routine</title><content type='html'>Gymnastics started back up today. We switched to the class just before the one we had been in (11:15 vs noon) so that Munchkin could be in the experienced 3-4 instead of new 3-4.&lt;br /&gt;There's alot more kids now.&lt;br /&gt;Last session, it was Munchkin &amp;amp; 1 other girl, and just Boo in the parent-tot class. Now, there are 4 parent-tot sets, while Munchkin still only has 1 kid with her (a boy, this time). I heard the coaches saying there were supposed to be 3 kids in the 3-4, no idea where the third one was.&lt;br /&gt;Boo doesn't like crowds much. Or loud children running around (though she &amp;amp; Munchkin do it often enough). So she was a bit shy, but still did some great forward rolls. She did good on the balance beam too. I got to sneak some glances at Munchkin, and she was doing great on her stuff.&lt;br /&gt;After gymnastics we went to Target for some supplies. I only spent $37!!! Woohoo!! $20 of that was a box of pull-ups, so I think I did good. When we came out of Target, the snow had started. Holy crap did it snow. We got 3-4 inches today, from 12:30ish through 5pm. It's still snowing now, though not as aggressively. Hubby had local news on when he got up, the weatherman announced this was our 12th consecutive day of snow.&lt;br /&gt;I like snow, but enough already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-5445772662564521912?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/5445772662564521912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/back-to-routine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5445772662564521912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5445772662564521912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/back-to-routine.html' title='back to the routine'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-484530030117172359</id><published>2010-01-01T10:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T10:18:03.379-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>20010</title><content type='html'>Sorry, that was the subject on a mass email at work and it made me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;It continues to snow, and be kinda cold. That's not much fun. I suspect there is ice under the snow on the streets, which means when I give in and take the dog out it will require much effort to not fall down. This will be a slightly different type of not fall down effort than last night, which was caused by one big glass of wine. Wine made from Concord grapes. I'll not be buying it again. My brain had a hard time with tasting grape juice &amp;amp; getting sloshed at the same time. Kinda like I used to be with all yogurt (now I can eat the whipped ones or the mix-stuff-in ones). There's sweet taste but a something underneath that just isn't right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father (who eventually made it home to his place in Texas late Monday night)(yea, only 4 days after he left France) texted at 12:42 talking about how he'd been playing Wii at his friend's place. Glad someone was having fun. I drank, and I read more of Under the Dome (that there new Stephen King book). Yee haw. Such an exciting life I lead. And I am so just rambling right now, aren't I? I should stop. Munchkin (with her hair cut!!! It's a little past her shoulders now) has claimed my recliner again, but has not turned on the massaging stuff yet. Oh, she's drawing patterns in the plush with her toes.&lt;br /&gt;sigh. Happy New Year to all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-484530030117172359?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/484530030117172359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/20010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/484530030117172359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/484530030117172359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2010/01/20010.html' title='20010'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-1622953744223903826</id><published>2009-12-25T09:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T09:48:10.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>Whee.... hubby &amp;amp; I were up until about 1am, him building gifts from Santa and me filling stocking and wrapping smaller Santa gifts.&lt;br /&gt;My father spent the past 9 days in Paris (just as a way to burn up his vacation time from work), as he flies standby on my benefits he somehow got bumped off the direct to Dallas flight and wound up in Chicago last night. Then he got stuck. After an hour or so, as the snow came down like mad in Texas, we figured out there was no way he was getting home. So he talked to a nice gate agent and got put on the standby list to come here. He spent the night at some nice hotel in Chicago (on a distressed passenger rate), and is back at the airport this morning. The last agent he dealt with last night said it didn't look good for getting to Columbus, but Ohio looked better than getting to Dallas. So he's already on his second gate to try and get here. Supposedly his luggage went to Texas last night and will get sent up here this morning. I have my doubts on that, but we'll hope for the best.&lt;br /&gt;Hubby &amp;amp; I got up around 7am, he got the girls up at 8. They had a blast. Everything from us &amp;amp; Santa was opened within an hour. There's a few gifts under the tree still, those will be going to my mom's house in a couple hours for the larger family event. (Not much larger, just adds mom, stepdad, aunt, and will possibly be crashed by an old family friend.)&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone has a wonder-filled day. Look through the eyes of a child if you need to. It's there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-1622953744223903826?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/1622953744223903826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/1622953744223903826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/1622953744223903826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-7971105305395139178</id><published>2009-12-13T10:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T10:29:04.521-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>we're back</title><content type='html'>It's nice to be home... where the weather station thingy on the desktop says 36, "Not As Cold".&lt;br /&gt;Actually, that was yesterday. Today it's 35, cloudy with a bit of rain. I heard rain at some point early this morning, it's still raining now so I'm trying to convince the dog he doesn't &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; need to go out right now.&lt;br /&gt;We made it to the grocery store, restocked all our staples that had expired while we were gone, and I made it through 5 or 6 loads of laundry. Everything but the towels. Yay me. Still need to figure out dinners for the week... ick.&lt;br /&gt;My mom stopped by yesterday, gave back our garage door opener and chatted with the girls because they just had to show her their new toys and dvds. She said our dog was very well behaved and walking him all week wasn't bad, there was only 1 day that was icy but that darn portapotty across the street from our house blew over twice. I can't wait for that darn thing to go away, but if they intend to leave it until all construction is done it'll be here a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-7971105305395139178?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/7971105305395139178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/were-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7971105305395139178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7971105305395139178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/were-back.html' title='we&apos;re back'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4212371098905819644</id><published>2009-12-12T06:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T07:02:48.676-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>time to go now</title><content type='html'>It is 5:54am Central Time. We are up and moving. (well, 3 of us. We haven't gotten Boo up yet.)&lt;br /&gt;We are checked in for our flight, hubby is about to get in the shower, Munchkin &amp;amp; I are dressed. I guess I should go raid the coffee (for me) and chocolate milk (for her).&lt;br /&gt;This here new computer turned out very nice. We successfully networked them together yesterday, so all of MIL's pictures are now moved over. She didn't lose anything! YAY!&lt;br /&gt;Hubby snapped at his baby sister yesterday, actually he didn't really snap she just took it as snapping and went out to the garage (where we smoke down here) to call middle sister "He says I'm gonna have parental controls on the new computer and&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; he's&lt;/span&gt; an administrator and blah blah"&lt;br /&gt;She never said anything to his face, but shortly after she left she called MIL to gripe some more.&lt;br /&gt;For the record, baby sis is 2 or 3 years OLDER than I am. Plus she spent a couple evenings "Oh, I won't need to use mom's computer. We have 2 over here." (at her boyfriends place, where she pretty much lives, much to MIL's relief.)&lt;br /&gt;yeah. Drama. Huzzah for going home!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, when hubby noticed Munchkin was waking up and went to give her a hug, she asked "is it time to go back to Ohio now?" he told her yes, and she said "Oh good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4212371098905819644?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4212371098905819644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/time-to-go-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4212371098905819644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4212371098905819644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/time-to-go-now.html' title='time to go now'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8887605902559098873</id><published>2009-12-08T23:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T23:10:14.242-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ooohh- technology!</title><content type='html'>We are in Texas. Got here early Sunday morning, and the breakfast at Denny's almost made it worth getting up at 4:15. Not quite, but close.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my father kindly agreed to drive out here to Mesquite (about 35-40 minutes from his place in Irving) to deliver our gift to my M-I-L. A new computer! and monitor! and printer! [Dad kindly agreed to purchase the set down here on Black Friday and we paid him back so that we wouldn't have to ship the darn things from Ohio.] Last night hubby, father &amp;amp; I spent 90 minutes trying to get MIL's firefox profile and her saved pictures off the old computer. Couldn't do it. Wouldn't recognize USB port (even after downloading 3 drivers it claimed it needed), downloaded 4 CD burning programs only to have the 1 that worked on that ancient system claim "no media installed" in the drive. Today hubby &amp;amp; I got it up and running. Tomorrow father will come over again and we'll try to network the systems to get her stuff moved over. She's so tickled at the modern system she doesn't care if she has to start over. She just leapfrogged from WindowsME to Windows7 (64bit). From a 10Gb harddrive to a 320GB. From 128mb ram to 3Gb. and from a cruddy old tube monitor to a 18.5" widescreen lcd.&lt;br /&gt;Hubby went through and created multiple users- us and MIL as administrators, niece, nephew, and hub's baby sister as users. All 3 user accounts have parental controls turned on. Ha ha.&lt;br /&gt;eeek, it's late. must get children to bed. we suck at bedtimes while down here. when you factor in the timezone change it's even worse. ooops!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8887605902559098873?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8887605902559098873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/ooohh-technology.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8887605902559098873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8887605902559098873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/ooohh-technology.html' title='ooohh- technology!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8562120105462532781</id><published>2009-12-04T21:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T21:39:42.295-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>I am doubting...</title><content type='html'>I was just browsing some things on Amazon. My recent history now shows 2 versions of Into the Woods (London cast &amp;amp; Original Broadway cast), plus some "Legends of Broadway" Bernadette Peters album. The 'picks' based on what others with my recent history have bought?&lt;br /&gt;4 count em 4 fantasy/erotica novels.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know they are fantasy/erotica novels because I already have 3 of them on my Kindle. As the Kindle is still tied into father's credit card (thanks again Dad!) my weird-ass literature choices show up in HIS history. I feel bad about that sometimes. For a while. Then I buy another MaryJanice Davidson book and laugh until I forget. (Seriously. Her stuff cracks me up. The Queen Betsy series, the Fred the mermaid stuff, even Hello Gorgeous is funny.)&lt;br /&gt;We fly to Texas stupidly early Sunday morning. Let's see, scheduled departure is..... 35hours and 6 minutes from now. I think. It's 21:34 Friday night, we leave at 06:40 Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I think the hubby's on crack thinking we'll get us AND the girls up and to the airport that early. He's trying to bribe me by pointing out we'll get to Mesquite around 9:30am so we can stop for breakfast at Denny's. I love Denny's. There are no more Denny's anywhere around central Ohio. They all left. It makes me very sad.  Also making me sad, my dumbass put the rental car reservation in my own name, meaning I'll have to drive. I hate driving in Texas. I can do it, I just really really don't like it. (I will not ever try to drive in NYC. That I flat out refuse. Or LA. Dallas &amp;amp; Seattle were bad enough.)&lt;br /&gt;OK, time for a different holiday beer (Shiner "Cheer" is awesome!!! Buy it if you see it!)(tonight I'll try the one from Columbus Brewing Co) and then crash. Trying to shift bedtime earlier in preparation for Sunday. ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8562120105462532781?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8562120105462532781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-doubting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8562120105462532781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8562120105462532781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-doubting.html' title='I am doubting...'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3465178772417789955</id><published>2009-11-25T21:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T21:22:37.343-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>dinner conversation</title><content type='html'>Boo: Mommy how old is you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Twenty nine.&lt;br /&gt;Boo: Mommy how old is Daddy?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Forty.&lt;br /&gt;Munchkin: Wow that's BIG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps luckily, Daddy was not in the room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3465178772417789955?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3465178772417789955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/dinner-conversation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3465178772417789955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3465178772417789955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/dinner-conversation.html' title='dinner conversation'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-7778090722557118284</id><published>2009-11-21T00:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T00:48:48.088-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><title type='text'>hope we can put it back together....</title><content type='html'>So we noticed a few weeks ago the truck has a leak. Hubby identified it as the water pump. This is a bad thing (I'm told) because while the parts are not terribly expensive to replace it, it is a very labor-intensive task. (translation: he's semi-scared to do it, but it would cost a gazillion dollars in labor fees to have a shop do it.)&lt;br /&gt;So, now that the puddle on the garage floor is larger each day, today he started tearing my precious truck apart. I dutifully helped [hold flashlight, read manual, hand him tools, occasionally suggest different method to get STUPID plastic hose clamps off, and oh yea the unspoken task: be ready to call 911 if he gets hurt].&lt;br /&gt;My truck's engine is in many more pieces now than it was 3 hours ago... the radiator shroud is off (both pieces, not just upper as expected), the fan is off (now we need to find a 1 7/16" crowsfoot to put it back on), and since for some STUPID reason the radiator does not have a drain valve (seriously GMC, what the fuck???) he had to cuss a previously-mentioned plastic hose clamp off to drain the booger. Now he's out there flushing it [supposedly I am searching for stores that carry the crowsfoot since we really want to put this back together tomorrow so I can drive it to work Sunday].&lt;br /&gt;All this fun.... and I've only barely gotten through grown-up laundry this weekend so far. I haven't started the girls' stuff. Ick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-7778090722557118284?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/7778090722557118284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/hope-we-can-put-it-back-together.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7778090722557118284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7778090722557118284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/hope-we-can-put-it-back-together.html' title='hope we can put it back together....'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2963034218100344728</id><published>2009-11-14T00:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T00:58:56.760-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>AUGH!</title><content type='html'>After an oh-so-fun evening feeling like crap, I eventually chugged a glass of wine I'd nearly forgotten I had poured, laughed heartily at a Dirty Jobs shark week episode, and headed to bed. I was in the bathroom doing what I do, when CHIRP! the smoke detector announced the battery was low.&lt;br /&gt;I was less than pleased.&lt;br /&gt;I headed downstairs, rummaged in the junk drawer, found a 9volt battery, got the roughly 2ft stepstool from the garage, went back to my room (furiously texting hubby who is at work on overtime) and stretched as tall as I could- to discover I had NO IDEA how to change the battery in the damn thing. I finally found the battery compartment, but I was just a teeny bit too short to get the old battery out. Stupid 9ft (or is it 10ft?) ceilings.&lt;br /&gt;So I took the stepstool back down to the garage and retrieved the ladder. Which hangs on the wall. In front of the truck (hubby took car to work). Above the lawnmower.&lt;br /&gt;That sucked.&lt;br /&gt;Almost as much as getting the ladder up the stairs without damaging myself or the walls.&lt;br /&gt;By the time I was setting up the ladder, I had hubby on speakerphone going "what's happening? It's doing what?" and I managed to get the old battery out, put the new one in, and the damn thing STILL CHIRPED so I had to go back up the ladder (which hurts in bare feet, btw) and jiggle the battery some more.&lt;br /&gt;I got it to stop chirping. I got the ladder back downstairs. I told hubby HE could put the darn thing back on the wall I was NOT climbing over the lawn mower again tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Now I am all fired up, no longer sleepy at all, and it is very nearly 1am. If left alone, I get up at 9. Somehow, I was awake at 6:30 and off and on until getting up at 7:30 this morning. I am very tired, but still ALL TICKED OFF and thusly not ready to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;bleah.&lt;br /&gt;Why yes, I am willfully ignoring the load of whites in the dryer ready to be put away, thank you very much. I am also not going back in the garage in search of the small bucket to drain my washing machine, which yesterday developed a musty odor. Yes, the load of whites in the dryer is the last load of laundry in the house, I washed everything else over the last 2 days. (For the record, the washer smells LESS now than it did before I did laundry. I did run it through it's "Tub Clean" cycle, which took 1hour 9 minutes, holy crap.)&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, this morning before the children got up I watched the doe eat from my birdfeeder to the point I opened the back door and told her that wasn't her food. She didn't run as fast as I expected. She looked up when I undid the deadbolt, looked harder when I opened the door, but only backed off when I stepped outside and spoke. Didn't see the buck today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2963034218100344728?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2963034218100344728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/augh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2963034218100344728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2963034218100344728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/augh.html' title='AUGH!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2666353012083167761</id><published>2009-11-12T18:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T18:57:28.010-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>not what we expected to be feeding...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/Svyf9QPg6CI/AAAAAAAAAFk/YyAfPst0FEw/s1600-h/P1050113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/Svyf9QPg6CI/AAAAAAAAAFk/YyAfPst0FEw/s200/P1050113.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403369527618627618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvyfznzmIkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/NPTI23qRg3I/s1600-h/P1050109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvyfznzmIkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/NPTI23qRg3I/s200/P1050109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403369362145288770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvyfsPH3nDI/AAAAAAAAAFU/usZK3GKOfIY/s1600-h/P1050105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvyfsPH3nDI/AAAAAAAAAFU/usZK3GKOfIY/s200/P1050105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403369235260349490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How cool is this? I finally was home during daylight to refill the birdfeeders this morning, and this afternoon I glanced out the window and was shocked to see these two.&lt;br /&gt;Explains a few things about our seed usage, and why the tube feeder was on the ground this morning...&lt;br /&gt;I hope the buck doesn't wander in the wrong areas, it's currently hunting season here. He'd make a nice trophy for someone inclined to those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got over my surprise (and got my pictures) I just kept thinking "I love where we live!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2666353012083167761?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2666353012083167761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-what-we-expected-to-be-feeding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2666353012083167761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2666353012083167761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-what-we-expected-to-be-feeding.html' title='not what we expected to be feeding...'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/Svyf9QPg6CI/AAAAAAAAAFk/YyAfPst0FEw/s72-c/P1050113.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8642683004278815633</id><published>2009-11-06T11:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T12:03:45.452-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birds'/><title type='text'>if you feed them, they will come</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvRU7dD2sxI/AAAAAAAAAFM/T4Bm5jTgrlY/s1600-h/P1050087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvRU7dD2sxI/AAAAAAAAAFM/T4Bm5jTgrlY/s200/P1050087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401035233513878290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many do you see in this picture? I've spotted 4 on the tube feeder, 1 on the suet, 1 on the lamppost feeder, with 2 more enroute &amp;amp; 1 just watching from the background.&lt;br /&gt;There were a good 2 dozen more in the background. It's ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;My bluebirds stopped by this morning, had me quite excited, as well as a few woodpeckers again- 1 we hadn't seen before with an excellent scarlet cap (according to my book, he'd be a Red-bellied). We have a pair of Downy woodpeckers, the female cracks me up because she comes up to the house much more often- I spotted her on a deck balustrade, and as I called the girls to come see, she hopped over to a handle of the grill, then to the deck rail and finally flew to the woods.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen the male cardinal today, but the female has been out quite a bit.&lt;br /&gt;I must remember to buy more food when we're out this afternoon- emptied the bag without totally filling the feeders this morning. Once I realized just how many birds are coming, I'm no longer surprised at the amount of food we go through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8642683004278815633?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8642683004278815633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-you-feed-them-they-will-come.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8642683004278815633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8642683004278815633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-you-feed-them-they-will-come.html' title='if you feed them, they will come'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvRU7dD2sxI/AAAAAAAAAFM/T4Bm5jTgrlY/s72-c/P1050087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-5087839534611403351</id><published>2009-11-05T10:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T10:55:27.033-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>watch the birdie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvL1RenNuwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/zf1qzmCbVvc/s1600-h/P1040969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvL1RenNuwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/zf1qzmCbVvc/s200/P1040969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400648583794768642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apologies for not having pictures of actual birds at our birdfeeder- It now gets dark as I arrive home, and I didn't think last weekend to sit with camera at the ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvL0IA_oqXI/AAAAAAAAAE0/w5qK2A8va7k/s1600-h/P1040970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvL0IA_oqXI/AAAAAAAAAE0/w5qK2A8va7k/s320/P1040970.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400647321713682802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the birdfeeder was erected in hopes of keeping the bluebirds around. Husband swears he saw them during his weekend, right after we put up the feeder, but I haven't seen them yet. I did enjoy lying in bed this morning, wishing I didn't have to get up, watching the birds come to the suet. I saw a bluejay, a woodpecker, and some other little things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-5087839534611403351?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/5087839534611403351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/watch-birdie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5087839534611403351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5087839534611403351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/watch-birdie.html' title='watch the birdie!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SvL1RenNuwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/zf1qzmCbVvc/s72-c/P1040969.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-465972552493196788</id><published>2009-11-01T17:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T17:53:37.008-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>chirp cheep tweet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/Su4QcsT_c8I/AAAAAAAAAEs/5KlXPDZVg8g/s1600-h/P1040967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/Su4QcsT_c8I/AAAAAAAAAEs/5KlXPDZVg8g/s320/P1040967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399271088381195202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Twice now I've seen blue birds (Eastern Bluebirds, specifically) sitting on the railing of our deck. Yesterday I sweettalked the hubby into putting up a birdfeeder. He surprised me by willing to put up a larger feeder than I had envisioned.&lt;br /&gt;We set it up late yesterday evening, right about at sundown. It looked like this picture.&lt;br /&gt;He texted me early this afternoon to say the tube feeder was empty and the top thingy was under half. By the time I was leaving work, he had refilled them, so I got to take what can pass as a 'before' picture. I did get to see a pair of cardinals already. Hubby reports there was a woodpecker, lots of my bluebirds, the cardinals, and he has no idea what else found the seed already but there were "A LOT OF BIRDS".&lt;br /&gt;I'm pleased.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-465972552493196788?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/465972552493196788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/chirp-cheep-tweet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/465972552493196788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/465972552493196788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/11/chirp-cheep-tweet.html' title='chirp cheep tweet!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/Su4QcsT_c8I/AAAAAAAAAEs/5KlXPDZVg8g/s72-c/P1040967.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3480315449261470439</id><published>2009-10-18T19:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T19:41:02.311-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boo'/><title type='text'>my little grape</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/StunTebgiNI/AAAAAAAAAEk/z_cGV3PbAlc/s1600-h/P1030610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/StunTebgiNI/AAAAAAAAAEk/z_cGV3PbAlc/s320/P1030610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394088931734096082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. I commented to her on how lovely all her purple was or how she was all purple, something like that, and she responded "Yea I is a grape!"&lt;br /&gt;Now I wonder if her Daddy jokingly told her that earlier today or if she came up with it herself. 50/50 chances.&lt;br /&gt;and doesn't she look lovely sprawled on the dog's bed (which is more often the cat's bed, but we figure if the dog ever actually wants it, he's big enough to claim it).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3480315449261470439?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3480315449261470439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-little-grape.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3480315449261470439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3480315449261470439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-little-grape.html' title='my little grape'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/StunTebgiNI/AAAAAAAAAEk/z_cGV3PbAlc/s72-c/P1030610.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6944518802668750669</id><published>2009-10-09T11:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T11:27:11.316-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>in which I have no money...</title><content type='html'>Gah. I am broke for the next two weeks. Payday was today, and while I have not quite $600 coming into my account, I have bills due totaling $500 (and that's just the ones I remember!) due before the next payday. Sadly, I also very much want some new winter boots (waterproof, easy on/off, for use at work and when walking the dog). We did a family outing to the shoe store yesterday so I could look for some, and I did find some shoes that would suit my purposes but they did not have them in my size. We did not leave emptyhanded (or footed, actually, as the girls both left the store wearing the new boots they each got. Our bag contained the shoes they had worn into the store and 2 sets of Hello Kitty socks for Boo). &lt;br /&gt;Today is a miserable dreary day. I can hear airplanes flying overhead but cannot see them at all. We are only 5 miles from the end of the runway, so normally we get an excellent view of all aircraft whether they are going in for landing or heading out. (We both work for an airline, and somehow both still enjoy the magic thousands of pounds of thrust can work to send a metal tube hurtling through the sky.)&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I managed to get the girls' clothing through the washer and dryer, but simply dumped it all out of the dryer into a basket. I hate folding their clothes. It's numbing and awkward and takes forever. I don't mind doing the grownup clothes at all, and got all of our jeans washed (put away while the girls ate breakfast). It would be wise of me to wash the towels too, but the motivation just isn't there.&lt;br /&gt;Late last night when walking the dog I noticed flickering light in the house next to us (which is not completed, scheduled for the lovely couple and their infant son to move in by the end of next month). I stood outside in the drizzle for a while watching, decided it was indeed firelight I was seeing, and debated going through the mud to see why there was fire and was it contained. I went back inside, washed the dishes, fed the pets, and decided I really needed to check on the flames. So I put on my ultra-muddy tennis shoes (muddy from checking out 3rd house down's terrible furnace location last weekend) and clambered through the mud up to the front window. I discovered a gas-fed space heater type device sitting smack in the middle of the living room. Having satisfied myself that their house (and ours) would not burn down during the night, I slid back down the mudpile to my grass and noticed my feet felt like they had 5 extra pounds each. So then I spent 10 minutes (in the rain, by now) trying to scrape most of the mud off.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. I had a fun evening. I kept thinking there was something else I had meant to get done before going to bed and thought of it as I pulled back the blanket to climb in- I meant to change the sheets to a flannel set. Darling husband helped with that this morning while I emptied the dishwasher.&lt;br /&gt;I need to go do something fun. All this dutiful housewife stuff is smothering me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6944518802668750669?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6944518802668750669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-which-i-have-no-money.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6944518802668750669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6944518802668750669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-which-i-have-no-money.html' title='in which I have no money...'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-605030319102125170</id><published>2009-09-28T18:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T18:16:07.889-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>so far s'ok.</title><content type='html'>Well, after a lazy 3 day visit with my father, the inlaws arrived and the next day was Munchkin's birthday party. That went well. Everyone was thrilled to see our new house, all adults were suitable jealous of our master closet, we had enough food &amp;amp; drink, and it actually managed to stop raining for the duration of the party. Huzzah!&lt;br /&gt;Munchkin got some cool stuff, especially the bike from her daddy (and me, though he was out shopping with them when they picked it out) and some shirts she really likes (SpongeBob &amp;amp; FreshBeatBand). Boo was not left out (by grandparents), she got a few toys &amp;amp; clothing &amp;amp; another Hello Kitty Pez dispenser. Dad &amp;amp; I found the elusive 2T/3T Hello Kitty panties when we were at the grocery store getting the cake, so I graciously let mother-in-law add them to her bag o' stuff to Boo. She was thrilled to get her kitty panties.&lt;br /&gt;So now I only have what, 5 more days until inlaws go home? At least I'll be at work for 2 more of them....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-605030319102125170?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/605030319102125170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-far-sok.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/605030319102125170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/605030319102125170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-far-sok.html' title='so far s&apos;ok.'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2433261749065713561</id><published>2009-09-25T12:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T12:41:09.362-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boo'/><title type='text'>gah. visitors.</title><content type='html'>So my father has now been in town for 2 days. He's staying at his brother's house, though the brother is in Vegas this week. (My aunt's at home. Not quite clear on why she didn't go to Vegas too except she did mention it just doesn't hold the same allure for her, been there too many times or something.)&lt;br /&gt;The in-laws arrive tomorrow. This is much more stressful as they will actually be staying &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; us, most likely the m-i-l upstairs in our spare bedroom and f-i-l on my wonderful recliner in the den. (Bless him, he's kinda frail these days, but he's still a tough old coot. I love my f-i-l. M-i-l's ok, I just get tired of hearing the same stories about her daughters or people I don't know 4 times in quick succession.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, while out running errands with father in tow, we bought Boo the Dora potty seat she'd been asking for. Turns out she really wanted it to begin using the potty. As soon as we got home and took it out of the bag to show Daddy, she set it on the floor and sat on it. We had to convince her to get up off it so we could open the packaging and put it on an actual potty.  Then we sat on the little seat on the potty a couple times diaper still on, and finally bare tush. After a couple moments bare tush, she looked at me (where I was negotiating something with Munchkin) and said "my peepees is coming out now" and 20 seconds later, there was the noise of peeing into the potty.&lt;br /&gt;There was much rejoicing.&lt;br /&gt;So then right before bed, she wanted to sit on the potty again. 15 minutes later, still nothing had come out, I'm trying to convince her she's made a great try and we'll try again in the morning, and she's close to throwing a fit because she wanted to stay there until something came out. When I did get her to her bed, read the story, sang the songs, and was almost out her bedroom door, she got up out of bed saying "want to sit on potty again".&lt;br /&gt;She did sit there again this morning, no success. But we're quite amused that Munchkin never wanted to sit on the potty and Boo just doesn't want to get off of it. She &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; wants to wear panties, the sweet dear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2433261749065713561?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2433261749065713561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/gah-visitors.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2433261749065713561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2433261749065713561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/gah-visitors.html' title='gah. visitors.'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-5094003475847770622</id><published>2009-09-20T19:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T19:46:40.857-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>and the fun never stops</title><content type='html'>Today while I was at work, Grammy and my Aunt borrowed my children to take them to a family reunion. Grammy picked them up about 11am, and I'm told they arrived home about 20 minutes before I did (shortly after 6pm).&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, nobody's had a nap.&lt;br /&gt;So girls are running around terrorizing each other and the cat dumb enough to not be hiding, hubby is cranky from cleaning all day (but the bathrooms look great!), and I'm cranky from an oh-so-fun day at work with weather rolling in messing with my sinuses.&lt;br /&gt;I've had 2 good spots in my day, first was my high-school boyfriend answering an email I sent him about bizarre programming on one of our music channels on the tv, he appreciated what had struck me as odd and informed me he and wife are expecting a child in January.&lt;br /&gt;This is an earth-shattering event, given his previously stated view on having children.&lt;br /&gt;The other fun thing was my father texting me to ask if it was safe to give Munchkin a Hello Kitty shirt. (Would the girls fight since Boo is the one who loves Hello Kitty?) I told him they'd just get confused. Hubby &amp;amp; I can both picture Munchkin opening that gift and saying "Look Boo, you got a shirt!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A plus for the week has been hubby started hanging pictures on the walls in our home, makes it feel more real to me. (He is way too much a perfectionist for me to drill any holes in the walls. I hung the tp holders cause he was too tired of stuff to do it, but he commandeered the towel bars from me when I started them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downer (kinda) for the week is now I'm only 6 days away from the visit of the inlaws. They'll stay a week. My dad's coming up Wednesday and leaving Monday, he'll be staying with his brother as our spare room (and most likely my fabulous recliner in the den, given how my f-i-l sleeps at his own house) is claimed. I took Sunday off work, for the birthday party. I do not intend to take any other days off. (Is it bad to escape to work when family visits? I do it every time....)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-5094003475847770622?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/5094003475847770622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/and-fun-never-stops.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5094003475847770622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5094003475847770622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/and-fun-never-stops.html' title='and the fun never stops'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8345546084463082792</id><published>2009-09-19T10:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T10:08:45.472-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>out of the mouths of  babes?</title><content type='html'>Putting away dishes from the dishwasher with older daughter's help. (Younger daughter &amp;amp; their daddy still asleep.)&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy I want to drink out of that milk cup today" (points to one as we get it out)&lt;br /&gt;"Isn't that Boo's cup?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes"&lt;br /&gt;"Won't she be upset if you use it?"&lt;br /&gt;shrug "Only one way to find out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 on Tuesday. And that little blurb was all daddy shining through!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did move into a newly built for us home. It's great. It's huge, like double the square footage we had before. Stairs are a bummer somedays, fun most of the time. Neighborhood still has many lots to be built (and a whole nother section of road going in at the end) so we'll be listening to construction for quite some time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8345546084463082792?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8345546084463082792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/out-of-mouths-of-babes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8345546084463082792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8345546084463082792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/09/out-of-mouths-of-babes.html' title='out of the mouths of  babes?'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8175448454625354619</id><published>2009-04-30T22:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T23:18:50.332-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boo'/><title type='text'>been blah</title><content type='html'>Again. What's wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;House is flying along- they started putting up drywall yesterday. Siding's up, garage, basement, and porch stoop have been poured. (still no steps UP to the stoop, so it's a tall step, but it is there.)&lt;br /&gt;Boo turned 2 yesterday. Her party will be Saturday. My dad flies into town (state) around 1pm tomorrow, my mother in law at 5ish. Dad leaves Tuesday (my birthday, and the day I go back to work after taking a couple vacation days), mother in law leaves... oh wait, that's right. My darling wonderful husband doesn't bother to decide ahead of time when his mother leaves. He waits until day 6 and then starts picking flights, leaving me in the agony of suspense THE WHOLE FLIPPIN WEEK and wonders why I never take more than 2 days off work. hmmm... let us think why I might do that...&lt;br /&gt;Remember, we work for airline. We fly standby. Truthfully, the closer to departure time, the better idea if we can get on the flight. We only have to list ourselves (or parents, friends, whatever) 4 hours out. Company claims they want us to do it 24 hours before departure, but that's mostly for figuring out meals for first class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a 30 minute interruption talking to my hubby about a union issue in LAX. For a guy that used to work here, transferred there, and doesn't trust any of the union stewards there. So he asks my opinion alot. Gotta love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blah. I gotta wind down. And I'm out of my cheap good Australian wine, all I've got in the house are 2 Cahors wines (town in France where my aunt lives) and I'm not sure I'm ready to open either of them yet. Maybe it's a beer night. sigh. Dumb 5 hour rainstorm! Keeping me from doing as many errands as I intended! (didn't want to have girls in too many parking lots- they're awful fond of puddles and I'm not awful fond of getting splashed then having wet legs &amp;amp; shoes on me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8175448454625354619?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8175448454625354619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/04/been-blah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8175448454625354619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8175448454625354619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/04/been-blah.html' title='been blah'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8293400327701875159</id><published>2009-04-18T20:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T20:23:43.906-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><title type='text'>Bwah ha ha ha!!</title><content type='html'>That is exactly the text I sent a buddy from work Thursday, just after my darling Grady Sizemore hit a grand slam (the first in the new Yankee Stadium) against his Yanks. By the time I hit send, another home run. 9 run inning. Gotta love it.  (Coworker told me to enjoy it, as it would probably be the highlight of my season.)&lt;br /&gt;Friday the Tribe lost 6-5, but that's ok- it was close. It was a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; close game.&lt;br /&gt;Today... oh beautiful day. 22-4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;TWENTYTWO&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FOUR&lt;/span&gt;. Tribe had a FOURTEEN run inning. Ties team record. Set new Yanks record for most runs &amp;amp; hits allowed in an inning. (Coworker sent me a text about 5th inning "what? no world series cheers from the Indians fans?" to which I replied "I was being polite and waiting until the whuppin was over")&lt;br /&gt;I'm just kinda ticked I didn't get to see the 14 run inning happen. Girls and I were at a friends house for her little girl's 3rd birthday. Glorious day here, mid-70s, clear sky, not humid. This was only half the party (the cake and run around be stupid half). Friday we will meet up at the snooty mall and go to Build-a-Bear. All the children are quite excited.&lt;br /&gt;Boo's birthday party is 2 weeks from today. Nothing has been done except mailing invitations (and clearing use of Grammy's house with Grammy). Still need to figure out where to get a 'purple cow' birthday cake and buy farm or cow themed plates or something.&lt;br /&gt;The more pressing issue tonight is Sissy's refusal to calm down. She power-napped in the car on the way home, and has been a hellion since 3 minutes after we got in the house. She has been sent to sit in her room twice (once by me, once by daddy). At the moment she is telling her sister to FREEZE while they eat dinner. They have almost finished, which means my smidgen of peace is nearly at an end.&lt;br /&gt;The husband? He flippin ducked out to the grocery store, the wuss! He stayed home from the birthday to unearth the back bedroom for his mom's visit (for a week, for Boo's birthday). But somewhere around 3:30 he took a nap, because his mom called me at 4 (2nd time ever, I think) to check on what size clothing she should be buying the girls and he wasn't answering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8293400327701875159?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8293400327701875159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/04/bwah-ha-ha-ha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8293400327701875159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8293400327701875159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/04/bwah-ha-ha-ha.html' title='Bwah ha ha ha!!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6922426137252931358</id><published>2009-04-10T00:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T00:16:52.592-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>fire!</title><content type='html'>No, not really. Just a Kindle.&lt;br /&gt;Father the techno-geek has had a Kindle for what seems like ages. When the Kindle 2 came out, naturally he had to upgrade. Nobody at his work was serious about acquiring his old one from him, so he shipped it to me. He even left it on his account, so I just choose "shop in Kindle store" from the menu, decide which of my (heavy on the paranormal/vampires/erotica) books I'm willing to have show up on his computer screen, and get me something to read.&lt;br /&gt;So far, I've gotten 2 books. Both are horror/paranormal anthologies, both cost under $1.50 from the Kindle store. I'm such a wuss.&lt;br /&gt;Although, once I charge this sucker overnight, I fully intend to buy Body Movers 4. (Stephanie Bond)(no paranormal/vampire stuff)(just almost always set in Atlanta, and sex scenes tend to start on the floor in this series.)(it's the couch in another series)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for jibberish. I realized the time and practically chugged my glass of wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning (oh shit, I gotta get up in about 6 hours... oops...) we meet with the electrician and then the 'pre-wire' people. (pre-wire installs phone/cable outlets)&lt;br /&gt;Last week's Brinks and closet meetings went well. The closet was better than expected, since after the Brinks meeting we were standing in what will be our bedroom realizing there simply is NO SPACE for my long dresser. (this sucks as I really like what used to be grandma's dresser that grandpa installed lights on.) So the closet people design and then build (from 1" particle board in a shop onsite) drawers and adjustable shelves and hang racks. It'll be cool. The lady asked each of us how much stuff we fold, hang, how many pairs of shoes we have, they MEASURED our shoes to see how much space they take up, she asked how many long items I hang... it was detailed. All told, I wind up with 3  9" drawers, 3  7" drawers,  2 chunks of shelves, 3 chunks of half-height racks, and 18" of long hang rack. My side of the closet is 96" long. (his is 84" or so due to an air vent running up the wall in the back.)&lt;br /&gt;Dresser? We don' need no steenkin dresser!&lt;br /&gt;Well, hubby promised me we can stuff it in 'bonus' room for visiting parents to use if they're staying a long time which actually has me really worried cause his momma already stays a week at a stretch.... (my dad tends to come up for 2-3 days, every other month. His momma comes up for a week, twice a year on girls' birthdays.) He's also promised I can put grandma's old kitchen table up there as my craft table (currently I got nothing to sew on, so my sewing machine lives at my mom's house and I just use it there whenever possible). That room is gonna get crowded fast. Good thing it's like THE BIGGEST ROOM IN THE HOUSE! Not really, but close. It's bigger than the master bedroom, it just doesn't have a 7' long closet and attached bathroom. Playroom is bigger, and great room too I think but that's it. It is (by far) the largest bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crud. Typing skills have gone from buzzed to garbage. Plus that wake-up time edges ever closer, especially with having to backspace and fix spelling errors like every third word.&lt;br /&gt;goodnight anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6922426137252931358?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6922426137252931358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/04/fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6922426137252931358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6922426137252931358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/04/fire.html' title='fire!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2514389205630889918</id><published>2009-03-30T21:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T21:53:49.322-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>finally!</title><content type='html'>Alot has happened since I've bothered to post.&lt;br /&gt;Our house is nearly done framing, roof should go on this week, weather permitting. We're a little concerned because one transom window is not framed in, and our shower in the master bath looks like they've framed it for the small version when we requested the larger one. Saleslady promises that will be fixed, she says they can't pass inspections to go to the next step unless everything matches the plans. But we're keeping our eyes on it.&lt;br /&gt;AND!&lt;br /&gt;Sissy is catching on to the potty training thing. She did not have any accidents today, made it to the potty each time she needed to pee. To our delight, Boo is trying it out as well. She still isn't comfortable sitting bare-tush on the potty, but a couple days ago she ran down the hall, sat on the little potty with pants still on, and a moment later announced "my peepees come out! my peepees come out!". So my 42 and 23 month old daughters may well potty train at the exact same time. It'll be nice to not buy diapers anymore... Sissy has been wearing pull-ups at night and at naptime, but when she's awake we've had her in training pants (the kind with a vinyl outside)(and I somehow melted one in the dryer, luckily it peeled right off). We've told her if she makes it a couple more days doing as good as today, she can start wearing her 'real' panties- Dora and Curious George and pretty flowers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2514389205630889918?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2514389205630889918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/finally.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2514389205630889918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2514389205630889918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/finally.html' title='finally!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6064038210815505399</id><published>2009-03-20T11:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T11:57:20.368-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bleah.</title><content type='html'>Here we are, back in burn-out mode.&lt;br /&gt;I have a perpetual project at work (shelf assignments- keep your section neat, orderly, and most importantly, make sure we actually have the quantities indicated in the computer!!!), but kept blahing around on the few news websites we can get to in my spare moments.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a union steward meeting/training. We've had a little influx of fresh blood, one of whom has YEARS of experience so he helped us all get motivated... that'll last for a month or so.&lt;br /&gt;now husband is putting around getting antsy... oooh, we might actually get out of the house as a family group! WOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6064038210815505399?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6064038210815505399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/bleah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6064038210815505399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6064038210815505399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/bleah.html' title='bleah.'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-1128652351634790522</id><published>2009-03-12T12:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T13:10:04.609-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a brave woman</title><content type='html'>A dear friend of mine just had her first child last Monday. I asked her how delivery was- better or worse than anticpated, etc- and her reply email told me to sit down.&lt;br /&gt;30 hours.&lt;br /&gt;30 loooong hours, 20 of it back labor.&lt;br /&gt;The 30 doesn't even include 12 hours of pre-labor.&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got a birth announcement in the mail. She had her baby at home, assisted by a couple of midwives. Her husband was right there and caught the baby as she came out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blown away. Now, my second was born at home, but that was BOO's choice, not mine at all. I felt the first (what I thought was random) contraction at just past midnight, didn't decide something-might-really-be-happening-so-maybe-I-should-wake-up-hubby until 1am, and at 1:30 as paramedics are walking up to our door, my husband was catching Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always respected this friend, she is even the originator of 'ptooie'. It was her word of general mild disgust or frustration, similar to 'phooey'. We were first and second chair bass in high school orchestra, plus had german and some other classes together. She's the tallest woman in her family at 5' 1.75".  We are both only children raised by single mothers who all happen to be cat people, though my mom and I only had 3 and they had something like 7.&lt;br /&gt;I am at a whole new level of repect now.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I get to go visit. I asked what I could give them to welcome the bundle of joy, and was told "NO CLOTHING! We have been innundated with onesies!" so I suggested giving them our pack'n'play, jumparoo, and swing. That struck her as a fine way for them to not have to spend money on larger items, so that is my gift to welcome little precipatation (fancy name for child's first name).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-1128652351634790522?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/1128652351634790522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/brave-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/1128652351634790522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/1128652351634790522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/brave-woman.html' title='a brave woman'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2936449305838178363</id><published>2009-03-09T17:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T17:54:45.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>puhple caar! puhple tuck!</title><content type='html'>Boo has a fascination with all things purple (and green, to a lesser extent). She is always on the lookout for purple cars when we're going someplace.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, she would have loved to be with me on my drive home.&lt;br /&gt;First, I was behind a purple minivan. Then I caught up to a purple Pontiac Vibe (and I thought they were freaky looking just white). Then I passed a purple Ford Ranger, then an F150, both going the other way. Next I saw a purple Cougar (parked), and a lovely lavendar Corolla (also parked) then 3 Chevy Aveos at a dealership. Last was a purple Cavalier.&lt;br /&gt;She would have loved it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2936449305838178363?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2936449305838178363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/puhple-caar-puhple-tuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2936449305838178363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2936449305838178363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/puhple-caar-puhple-tuck.html' title='puhple caar! puhple tuck!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2780201410006854240</id><published>2009-03-05T11:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T11:12:11.533-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>a brighter day</title><content type='html'>Literally and figuratively!&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday went well, all in all. Did fabulous on the last 2 tests for training class (well, duh, I only use the stuff maybe every other day at work so I'm gonna be familiar with it!), finished class with a 99%. Got out of there in time to not only get the oil changed in our truck but also stopped at the bank and finally deposited the $100 my mother gave me for Christmas (that would be approx. half a second sink in our master bath. The teller was chuckling as I peeled off the picture of half a sink my mom had taped on the bill). Came home, ate a quick sandwich on bagel, found my insurance card, and left in the car. Dragged Sissy from hiding in a bed at Grammy's (she had put herself to bed for a 'rest' at NOON, tell me my kid feels good if she's doing that!) and we went to the Children's urgent care. 2 hours later we left, having been told we had double ear infections and the freaky eye thing is still unknown but as it was much improved from the night before, go to our own doctor today to follow up. The urgent care doctor was super nice, she did a little neuro exam on Sissy (follow my finger with your eyes. move your head up, down, side to side. make a big smile. make a sad face. make an angry face.). The eye was still noticeable, and when Sissy did the big smile, the doctor thought that side of her face may have been lagging some, but she wasn't sure if that was related to the eye or just part of how everyone's face is asymetrical. I had Sissy smile big at me and couldn't decide if it was because it was a forced smile or because of whatever made the eye get weird.&lt;br /&gt;Today the eye is WAY better, it's almost back to normal. Still no clue what could have caused it, perhaps a little palsy of some sort but Sissy's awful young for that. We go to our doctor in a few hours, so we'll see what she says.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2780201410006854240?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2780201410006854240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/brighter-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2780201410006854240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2780201410006854240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/brighter-day.html' title='a brighter day'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3450282499105929678</id><published>2009-03-03T18:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T18:14:29.672-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>ta da!</title><content type='html'>That last little blurb was done on my cell phone, while being bored stupid. Pretty cool that it worked.&lt;br /&gt;I have now completed 2 days of my 3 day annual shipping class. Got a 96 on the first (of 3) test. Passing for the class is a 90. The other 2 sections are much easier because we use the material much more often at work.&lt;br /&gt;Went past my new house on the way home and the blocks are all in, there's some insulation-looking stuff around some of it, so maybe we'll have a basement floor poured soon. Once that's in and dry the fun will really start- framing!&lt;br /&gt;Sissy's got us a bit worried tonight. This morning when I got them up, she was crying and said her head hurt. Since I was ready to bash my own head in from sinus pain, I thought maybe she had some too. Warned Grammy the babysitter when I dropped them off, and went to class. This afternoon, Sissy told me her head was all better now, and she smiled at me, but she was moving kind of slow and her right eye won't open all the way. It's not goopy or tearing, and maybe just a teeny tiny bit puffy, but it won't open up fully. I'm not sure what the heck to do about it. She does not have a fever at all. The other odd thing about her tonight at Grammy's is she was sitting with me being pleasant, then got down from the couch and announced she was ready to go home. Right now. Want to go home.&lt;br /&gt;To say that never happens is an understatement. Typically I have to coerce my girls to leave my mother's house.&lt;br /&gt;So we found Sissy's socks, shoes, and coat, and by then Boo was mostly awake and down from Papaw's lap where she had been snoozing. Poor thing, she was caught off guard by the wake up instantly put on shoes &amp;amp; coat. But they both stayed pleasant on the way home, even with the sun shining in their eyes a good chunk of the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3450282499105929678?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3450282499105929678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/ta-da.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3450282499105929678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3450282499105929678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/ta-da.html' title='ta da!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3231891250654799966</id><published>2009-03-03T11:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:14:25.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'>stuck in a training class</title><content type='html'>stuck in a training class for work and it SUCKS. at least I know the material already so I don&amp;#39;t have to pay attention...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3231891250654799966?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3231891250654799966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/stuck-in-training-class.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3231891250654799966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3231891250654799966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/03/stuck-in-training-class.html' title='stuck in a training class'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4431217690969139187</id><published>2009-02-27T11:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T11:34:51.347-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>I've been slacking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SagTHmZhGPI/AAAAAAAAAEU/355zz1tlKK0/s1600-h/0224091833.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SagTHmZhGPI/AAAAAAAAAEU/355zz1tlKK0/s320/0224091833.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307513182143715570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual. We have a hole! We have stacks of cinder blocks! Soon (sooner if it would quit raining!) we might have a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;basement&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;I'm sort of looking forward to this week at work. Sunday I'm pulling a double (which I have not yet informed the husband about... dreading that), but Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday I'm in a training class. The major highlight to this is sleeping in by at least an hour each day.&lt;br /&gt;But before that fun starts, tomorrow we attend a birthday party for my friends middle child. He will be 5. I know Sissy's fast approaching 4, and Boo's even closer to 2, but I can't believe he will be 5. Where has the time gone? When he was born, hubby had just moved up to Ohio the month before, my friend still worked with me and made the job so much more entertaining... now we have sporadic phone calls. More during the spring, as 3 of the combined 5 children have birthdays close together. (Our youngests are 355 days apart, so we have to coordinate the parties carefully.)&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get much done yesterday. Perhaps my body is trying to pick up whatever garbage has already attacked the girls and hubby. I just felt 'off'. I'm better today, to hubby's surprise I got out of bed and immediately put a load of laundry in the washer. I have a 2nd in now. I also got a teeny bit creative and put dried blueberries in the 'add water and shake' bottle of pancake mix so the girls had blueberry waffles for breakfast, which they enjoyed.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also somewhat more pleasant because I finally figured out how to get different ringers on my phone without buying them from the carrier. It's not a pretty process- I use wavepad to edit a song down to manageable size, put that on hubby's microSD card, and send the file to myself as an attachment on a text message. I'm not going to complain too much, as it is TOTALLY FREE, but it is a bit of a pain to go through all that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4431217690969139187?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4431217690969139187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-been-slacking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4431217690969139187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4431217690969139187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-been-slacking.html' title='I&apos;ve been slacking'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SagTHmZhGPI/AAAAAAAAAEU/355zz1tlKK0/s72-c/0224091833.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-7381836705487760867</id><published>2009-02-20T11:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T11:08:15.228-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>truth in advertising</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SZ7U9ImqsuI/AAAAAAAAAEM/BFi2re9aBTU/s1600-h/P1010478.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SZ7U9ImqsuI/AAAAAAAAAEM/BFi2re9aBTU/s320/P1010478.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304911557835797218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 2 behind this car coming home yesterday. They were going depressingly slow on a section of road that is lots of fun when you go fast (hills, turns, it'd be like a roller coaster if it was a longer stretch of road). When we got through one stoplight and the car in front of me turned so I could see this one, I laughed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-7381836705487760867?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/7381836705487760867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/truth-in-advertising.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7381836705487760867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7381836705487760867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/truth-in-advertising.html' title='truth in advertising'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SZ7U9ImqsuI/AAAAAAAAAEM/BFi2re9aBTU/s72-c/P1010478.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-7025405823160996593</id><published>2009-02-20T10:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T10:24:10.404-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>I'm still alive</title><content type='html'>I'm the only one of our little family that hasn't gotten the runny nose bug going around. Lucky me, I get to attempt to take care of everyone. Luckily hubby hasn't gotten it bad, and Boo is starting to get better (she still has a scary cough) but Sissy just started getting sick 2 days ago. She's fine part of the day, but usually around lunchtime she starts fading and just wants to go to bed. She perks up again after she naps, once we convince her to get out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;We &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; don't have a hole in the ground for our house. There was a survey crew on our section  of street yesterday, which hubby &amp;amp; I hope was a good sign. 2 different cable companies had multiple trucks in the neighborhood too.&lt;br /&gt;The new phones (and new phone service) are very cool. I'm enjoying chatting (via text) baseball with my cousin in Seattle. In another 15-30 minutes I'll send her Happy Birthday wishes. I did try to set up the mobile-blogging thing, but the only thing I've tried to send is a photo and it doesn't seem to have worked. Guess I'll type something a little later and try that. And, after nearly 9 years, I've finally put the house phone in my name (rather than my grandfather, who passed away in 1994). Now I can adjust the long distance service- now that hubby has a local phone number!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-7025405823160996593?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/7025405823160996593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-still-alive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7025405823160996593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7025405823160996593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-still-alive.html' title='I&apos;m still alive'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4146782932958528851</id><published>2009-02-13T00:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T00:45:36.662-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>blurgh</title><content type='html'>I had a rough day.&lt;br /&gt;Dunno what happened. The whole first part of the day (up to naptime) I just couldn't cope with my children. Sissy ate great all day, just like she's been doing for the past several days, but had continuous potty problems. Boo just wouldn't eat. She kept tossing food onto the floor or over to Sissy and kept messing with the placemats. I didn't start feeling like myself until they were supposedly napping and I was downstairs putting laundry in and jogging. Just before lunch, I was so stressed I seriously debated calling my mother to rescue me.&lt;br /&gt;Got an update on the house last night, our saleslady emailed to say she had noticed there was no hole on our lot (gee, really?) and had asked the construction dude about it. They (the two of them on behalf of the company) apologize for the delay but blame the backlog on the funky winter we've had. They also really really hope we'll dig today (Friday). Hubby and I aren't so worried now, with the new stimulus plan nearly passed. That takes away the July 1 cutoff for the homebuyer credit, which was our deadline.&lt;br /&gt;My new cell phones have arrived at and then departed the facility in a nearby suburb, so I'm rather curious as to where they are headed now. I thought the next step in the tracking would be 'on vehicle for delivery'. They are in town, so they better be here tomorrow. I spent a good chunk of the morning (while trying to feel normal so I could cope with my kids) browsing eBay for cases, and found one I really liked. Bought it, paid for it, and the seller contacted me that as she (he?) was packing it, noticed it broken. Last one she (he?) had in stock. Refund or choose another? I went refund, and was somewhat glad I had also bought a 2 pack of silicone cases in addition to the one hard case. Bummer though, it was a pretty case. White with some blue butterflies- almost like a china pattern. Very much the simple but elegant style I tend to favor in all my accessories.&lt;br /&gt;I did good tonight after hubby left for work- not only did I get my lazy arse back downstairs to get the laundry out of the dryer and switch over what was in the washer, I put the dry stuff away &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; washed the sinkfull of dishes. Yay me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4146782932958528851?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4146782932958528851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/blurgh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4146782932958528851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4146782932958528851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/blurgh.html' title='blurgh'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8228587873261158915</id><published>2009-02-12T11:07:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T11:21:20.929-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><title type='text'>I got nothin'</title><content type='html'>No ideas. No energy. No signs of activity on our lot (which supposedly would begin digging MONDAY).&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, I also don't have any large branches down on our vehicles, or even in the yard from the high winds that came through last night. Power must have blinked at some point, but couldn't have been off long because no clocks needed reset this morning.&lt;br /&gt;The only interesting thing going on (since I STILL DON'T HAVE A HOLE FOR MY NEW HOUSE) is getting new cell phones. They should arrive tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;After more than 9 years, I finally got tired of my current cell provider. The service is ok, the price ok, but the choice in phones and the price to get a new one just started to stink. So I found a good deal and ordered 2 free phones online, and hopefully just after they arrive our numbers should be ported over to the new company. I'm still not sure what's going to happen with husband's phone, one page of the order confirmation says the number will be (614)xxx-xxxx, but I requested to port his (214)xxx-xxxx, and part of the body of a confirmation email mentions that number and how once it is ported it will not work on the current (old) phone.&lt;br /&gt;We're rather ambivalent on which number he winds up with. The (214) is fine, he's had it for years, we kept it when he moved up here so his mom could call him from her house phone if need be (though she never has). Also, I doubt he would bother to tell his old friends if he got a new number, he's been very blaise about talking to them during this past year. I'm pretty sure I've talked to one of them (via email and messenger) more than he has. The (614) was a neat number, easy to learn, and then I could call him from OUR house phone, which I've never been able to do because it's easier to call him from my cell rather than giving the long distance company a reason to charge me a little more.&lt;br /&gt;Urgh. I must remember, once the phones are switched over, I need to cancel the long distance on the home phone or at least find a different provider. Currently, my fee is waived because I have cell service with the same company. Once they realize I don't have the cells, there's another $7 a month I don't need to spend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YEA- Pitchers and Catchers reported today! First Spring Training game in 2 weeks! WOOHOO! and I can't believe Dunn went to the Nats. They need a hitter like him, but it seems like he's slumming. Maybe he'll be good for them and help them improve. I don't think they could get much worse. Hopefully we'll get to more Clippers games this year, the roster should be more interesting now that we're affliated with the Indians.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8228587873261158915?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8228587873261158915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-got-nothin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8228587873261158915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8228587873261158915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-got-nothin.html' title='I got nothin&apos;'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6113365473100730298</id><published>2009-02-05T19:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:21:03.340-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>Whew!</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to get back into my jogging habit. It's not very scenic, I jog in place in the laundry room (upstairs the floor squeaks alarmingly). Today I managed an hour. I'm quite pleased with myself. I've almost worked off the Whopper I had for lunch. (But not the fries I had with it.)&lt;br /&gt;Since I've been downstairs jogging, I've even gotten some laundry done today.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea- the house meeting Monday!&lt;br /&gt;We were informed of the general order of events/ stages of construction, when inspections are required, etc. We went over our selections again to make sure everything we wanted made it onto the blueprints. I think I'm supposed to contact our design center lady but I can't remember what for... maybe it was to verify the trim on the stairs will match the kitchen cabinets.... and we need to make sure we get the 4ft shower not just the 3ft. The highlight of the meeting was they hope to start digging this week! (Nothing happening as of last night, the girls and I drove past on our way home from Grammy's house.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6113365473100730298?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6113365473100730298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/whew.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6113365473100730298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6113365473100730298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/02/whew.html' title='Whew!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3826670330362774369</id><published>2009-01-31T01:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T01:08:26.148-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanity'/><title type='text'>oh happy day</title><content type='html'>Here I am, getting home at 1am. I can't type for shit right now, which is kind of fun but also very annoying as I am picky about spelling and grammar. Thank you, mother the english major.&lt;br /&gt;We had girls' (Mommy's) night out, and it was FUN. 7 ladies, all but 1 is actually a mother. We started at a bar near my mother's house, which I drive past at least twice a week and was only in once 10 years ago when I needed a pay phone because my truck broke down in the intersection. That was a nice place. Had a guy doing live music that we decided was country-flavored rock, but it was OK. Cheap food and beer. That was great. I had 3 draft Killian's and a "Santa Fe Chicken Sub" with fries instead of chips for $16.50. Can't beat that. Then we went to some strange place in another suburb (4 of the 7 were close to home then, and 2 hubbys joined us) where there was VERY loud music and a wider selection on tap but higher prices. I had a Bass draft ($6!!!!!!!!) and 2 bottles of MGD ($2.50 each, decent price)(and wonderful Bean bought one of them for me, I owe her but she wouldn't take my 5 as I was leaving) and embarrassed myself attempting to dance to a couple songs. My ears are still ringing. The radio wouldn't cooperate on the way home (meaning: no songs I wanted to sing along to) so I fumbled for a CD once I hit the part of the freeway that actually had lights. Made it home in one piece, everyone is asleep (yay!), and found an email from our saleslady that it's time to schedule our builder conference!!! YAY!!! WE GET A HOUSE!!!&lt;br /&gt;OK, time to pee and sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3826670330362774369?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3826670330362774369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-happy-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3826670330362774369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3826670330362774369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-happy-day.html' title='oh happy day'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4172577935785684472</id><published>2009-01-28T21:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T21:46:09.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another fun filled day...</title><content type='html'>We were under a Winter Storm Warning from Monday evening through noon today. Tuesday brought us 3 inches of snow, then a couple hours of sleet in the late evening, followed by rain. All night it rained. I scraped nearly an inch off the car this morning. Sissy and I went splat in the driveway (she's fine, I bled from my knuckles). At daybreak, the rain switched to snow, and we got a good 4 or 5 inches to cover the ice. Luckily, the snow stopped in the early afternoon so the drive home wasn't too bad. Actually, it was kind of nice because so many people had stayed home!&lt;br /&gt;I just realized my next paycheck will be very nice... because of the Chicago training class, I got 46 hours for last week (all straight time, but hey, it's an extra 6 hours) and then I picked up a shift Saturday so this week is 48 hours, 8 of which was time and a half. So that's..... 98 hours pay. Sweet!&lt;br /&gt;I really hope the roads clear up tomorrow and Friday, and that we don't get the 1-2 inches of snow forecast for Friday. It's supposed to be Mommy's night- at least 5 gals going out (one doesn't have kids, but her husband's goofy enough we'll include her in the title).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4172577935785684472?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4172577935785684472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/another-fun-filled-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4172577935785684472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4172577935785684472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/another-fun-filled-day.html' title='another fun filled day...'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4395050386261479934</id><published>2009-01-22T19:02:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:14:00.849-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><title type='text'>a minor victory...</title><content type='html'>The girls can see again. We've been intending to go get bang trims for a couple weeks now. Today I talked Sissy into letting me trim them here at home, with the promise that we would immediately go to the store and buy suckers (suckers being the highlight of going and getting it done). After doing a terrible but functional job on Sissy, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkKoktHAQI/AAAAAAAAADo/yna7k46Gz-U/s1600-h/P1010362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkKoktHAQI/AAAAAAAAADo/yna7k46Gz-U/s200/P1010362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294274529114652930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I chased Boo and did hers. Boo's turned out not quite so silly looking.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkK7uYWYgI/AAAAAAAAADw/VDzat9wTLxo/s1600-h/P1010364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkK7uYWYgI/AAAAAAAAADw/VDzat9wTLxo/s200/P1010364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294274858129449474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So I saved $15 ($18 would have been spent at the haircut place, but add a little for the suckers).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We did indeed go get suckers, huzzah that the grocery store had dumdums in the bulk candy section so I could pick out the preferred flavors. After the grocery store, we went to the VF Outlet and wandered in search of things to get Daddy for his birthday Sunday. Wound up with some knickknacks and a t-shirt for him. It'll do. We also got this goofy but adorable book called "The Ugly Truckling"- a revamped ugly ducking where trucks are alive and talk and the ugly trucking turns out to be an airplane.&lt;br /&gt;The real highlight of my day is noticing that pitchers and catchers report in 3 weeks! Here comes baseball season, hooray! I've been keeping an eye on the Varitek story though- It'll seem very strange if he goes to another team.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4395050386261479934?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4395050386261479934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/minor-victory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4395050386261479934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4395050386261479934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/minor-victory.html' title='a minor victory...'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkKoktHAQI/AAAAAAAAADo/yna7k46Gz-U/s72-c/P1010362.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-7070744579459168516</id><published>2009-01-21T22:39:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T23:00:57.352-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>oh the joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXftBPeEJiI/AAAAAAAAACg/N4cV4-Y987w/s1600-h/P1010288.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXftBPeEJiI/AAAAAAAAACg/N4cV4-Y987w/s320/P1010288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293960492585592354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of working for an airline.&lt;br /&gt;I was up at 4am today, my mother came over at 4:45 so I could be out the door by 5 so I could be on a 6:15 flight to Chicago. It was a beautiful sunrise as viewed from where concourses H &amp;amp; K split apart, especially while holding a steaming mocha from Dunkin. Bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to attend a class entitled "Safety Starts With Me".  It was bad, but not quite as bad as I expected. I was sitting with some entertaining guys, 2 from Chicago and one from Ft Wayne. We were way in the back and had ample opportunities to crack jokes as well as discuss events important to our bases or how events at one impacted another. The instructors (3 of them!) kept handing out little slips as a reward for participation. At the end of the class, you put your name/initials on each of your slips, then there was a drawing and 4 slips were chosen. Last one drawn was me, I got a $10 gift card to Sears. Yeehaw. I is so excited I can hardly stand it. (The 3rd one got a small fire extinguisher, so it was a darned good thing he was a local- wouldn't be able to fly that home!)&lt;br /&gt;I had another hour to wander in the afternoon before my flight back to Ohio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXft3cdmZ7I/AAAAAAAAACo/sknitYqCr_E/s1600-h/P1010347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXft3cdmZ7I/AAAAAAAAACo/sknitYqCr_E/s200/P1010347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293961423786239922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I guess they've had a bit of snow in Chicago... our ground cover is less than 2 inches. I also guess this tug (labeled Aircraft Maintenance) has been broke and not moved for at least a week.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXfuxwHLYGI/AAAAAAAAACw/1kpYLo2Tp7Y/s1600-h/P1010348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXfuxwHLYGI/AAAAAAAAACw/1kpYLo2Tp7Y/s200/P1010348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293962425493315682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; That's right dude. Fuel my plane so I can go the heck HOME!!!!!  The heating was a nice touch too- except it took so long for rampers to come unhook it when we were ready to push back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-7070744579459168516?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/7070744579459168516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-joy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7070744579459168516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7070744579459168516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-joy.html' title='oh the joy'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXftBPeEJiI/AAAAAAAAACg/N4cV4-Y987w/s72-c/P1010288.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-8558530782996386460</id><published>2009-01-17T17:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T17:53:39.308-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><title type='text'>He's got holes in his mouth!</title><content type='html'>Sissy is fascinated- Daddy let slip something about he couldn't eat what we were having for dinner last night because of the holes in his mouth. We didn't give her a flashlight and tell him to say 'AHHHHH' but I bet she would have enjoyed that.&lt;br /&gt;He's doing great. He hasn't even been complaining, which I somewhat expected. When they first brought me back to the recovery room, just after he woke up, that was a little scary- he was very disoriented, and turns out one of the drugs in the IV is an amnesiac, so he asked the same questions over and over and over. By the time we were leaving the drug store from getting another antibiotic (one tooth was infected), he was himself but also super tired. So we went home, fixed him some noodles and shoved a hydrocodone in him, and when he was settled in on the couch I reminded him again if he was going to fall asleep, take out the gauze pads. Then I left to retrieve the children from my mother.&lt;br /&gt;Seems the surgeon used so much novocaine hubby's tongue didn't come back to him until 11pm, his lips were more like 1 (we're guessing, as he went to bed at 11:30). Today he's doing great, only one hole is hurting and it's the one that was infected so we're not really surprised.&lt;br /&gt;I think he'd be fine on his own tomorrow, but it's a bit late to cancel my vacation day so Oh Darn, I have to have a 4 day weekend. What a shame, no?&lt;br /&gt;I've been slacking on my laundry duties. Most of our stuff is done, the vast majority of the girls stuff is in the dryer (and has been there since about midnight) so I need to take another basket down, put the dryer on a 20 minute touchup, and get back to it. (The touchup is needed because it's still quite cold outside, so the cold seeps in through the dryer vent and not long after the dryer stops, the clothes are FRIGID.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-8558530782996386460?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/8558530782996386460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/hes-got-holes-in-his-mouth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8558530782996386460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/8558530782996386460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/hes-got-holes-in-his-mouth.html' title='He&apos;s got holes in his mouth!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2196039210304904440</id><published>2009-01-15T10:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T11:01:52.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brrr, again</title><content type='html'>Well, even though it's a lovely 5 degrees outside (Hey, it was 0 up until an hour ago), I'm going to do my best not to complain or whine. Canada and the northern plains have it MUCH MUCH worse.&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I will sit here and babble while trying to ignore Dora going through the alphabet. I very much dislike the music in this episode, but my girls love it for the ABCs and the animals.&lt;br /&gt;I reached an agreement with hubby to wake him at 5pm today, in an attempt for him to have some awake time with us, then catch a little sleep at night before his oral surgery tomorrow morning. While looking for something to make for breakfast today, I noted he has gotten a modest assortment of mushy (no chewing required) foods in preparation. This is excellent, because even though I hate staying in the house all day I have NO PLANS to go anywhere with the girls. We'd be ok with the temperatures, but the roads are still a mess from all the snow yesterday. I only slid a teeny bit, mostly going again after a traffic light or crossing some intersections. I had no problems on uphills, unlike some other cars I saw.  I'm still shocked by the fool in a Saturn who honked at me (more at the minivan infront of me) on an uphill - I didn't pay much attention because I was busy watching the minivan's back wheels slide. When we got up the hill and were on level road, the Saturn passed both me and the minivan. I kind of wished he would slide into a mailbox or something, but no karma came after him while I watched.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2196039210304904440?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2196039210304904440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/brrr-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2196039210304904440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2196039210304904440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/brrr-again.html' title='Brrr, again'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-5511360926461241065</id><published>2009-01-13T22:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T22:42:24.319-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, the joys of Ohio. And the jetstream.</title><content type='html'>I've seen an email go around a few times that is full of "You might be from Ohio if....." jokes. I'm sure there's one for every state, but as I live here this is the one people bother to send me. One of those that has been popping into my head these past few days is "if your idea of a fancy negligee is a flannel nightgown" or something along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;You see, I've had to plan which long underwear I wear on which day this week. As my job requires me to be outdoors occasionally, I tend to wear my longjohns if it's not going to be above 30* degrees. My various pairs have different thermal qualities, and I have carefully avoided wearing the warmest in order to save them for tomorrow, the last day of my work week. It is forecast to be 8 degrees when my girls and I leave the house at 6am.&lt;br /&gt;This is going to suck.&lt;br /&gt;But wait! There's more!&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, the high is expected to be 11. Friday, 5. (The low Friday is expected to be -4.)&lt;br /&gt;When I first saw the Friday forecast, I thought 'Yay! That's an off day. We are not going ANYWHERE.'&lt;br /&gt;3 minutes later I remembered that's the day hubby gets his wisdom teeth removed. So we have to get up, take the girls to grammy's, go get his teeth taken out, then hopefully go home to see how he starts recovering and eventually go retrieve the children.&lt;br /&gt;Note to self- buy more noodles and other mushy, no-chewing-required foods before Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*30 is my mid-December thru February cutoff temperature. It's about 50 for October/November, then eases down. 40 feels like a heat wave until April or so, some years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-5511360926461241065?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/5511360926461241065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/ah-joys-of-ohio-and-jetstream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5511360926461241065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5511360926461241065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/ah-joys-of-ohio-and-jetstream.html' title='Ah, the joys of Ohio. And the jetstream.'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3570590602754680179</id><published>2009-01-08T17:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T18:03:45.049-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>22 and still snowing</title><content type='html'>But at least I don't live in Alaska, right? And the other plus is no new ice has formed, so as long as we're careful on the back steps we're fine.&lt;br /&gt;Had my 6 month eye checkup today (I had LASIK back in July). I can still read at least 20/20, probably 20/15 but we didn't try this time. As expected, I was told to try and do eye drops more often. I get told that every single checkup. But now I don't have to go back until July, and then I should be done. Woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;After the eye thing, we (me, girls, my aunt) went to the Design Center so my aunt could see some of what will be on the inside of our house and so I could choose what color tile for the tub and shower surrounds. I also got to choose a fridge, since hubby decided a black fridge with stainless oven and dishwasher would drive him crazy. I get me one of them fancy 3 door fridges, yay.&lt;br /&gt;hrm.... after browsing online for awhile and now typing some, I've noticed my hands are COLD! I suppose I should quit procrastinating and go wash dishes since that would help warm them. It would also get me moving around a little again, my pedometer reports I've been lazy today. Yes I have, thank you, but it's also because the drive to the eye place is longer each way than the exam takes! Didn't help I wandered back roads to get back down to the design center. I was proud of me for doing it though... only got confused once, and made the right guess then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3570590602754680179?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3570590602754680179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/22-and-still-snowing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3570590602754680179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3570590602754680179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/22-and-still-snowing.html' title='22 and still snowing'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-5719172965834790533</id><published>2009-01-05T18:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T18:54:47.820-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>urgh.</title><content type='html'>Little one is sick. Yesterday we were thinking ear infection but today not so sure. No fever right now, not at all, but crying and whining and just complaining about everything without using ANY of the few dozen words she has.&lt;br /&gt;Sissy is alternating between being hypnotized by Backyardigans and telling me it's her turn, Daddy said she could play on her computer after naptime. Now I've done it, she wanted juice and I gave her apple. She wanted Raspberry Lemonade. What a horrible mother I am.&lt;br /&gt;I'm worn out. My dumb self has been staying up too late and so when the alarm goes off I am just not ready to get up. Tonight perhaps I'll do better, it should be easier since NONE of the shows I like on TV are on lately. I've also pretty much finished my browsing of the internets, so as long as I don't think of something else to look at I should be safe for an early bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday should be fun at work. I was so frustrated by the lack of anything being done on my off days I sent a griping email to my boss, who shared some of my frustration when he realized all the nonsense my counterpart has been pulling. (Wednesday is the next time the counterpart works.)  On the plus side, today they finally fixed the lock on the door to get in. A pushbutton lock was installed a couple months ago, but 10 days ago it quit working. Today the manager was back so everyone could get at the instruction books in his office. Turns out, somebody had WAY too much time on their hands. This unknown person removed the cover from the lock and pushed the reset button, so the code no longer worked. Now we have to learn a new code, and we also need to get it out to all the people who were not in the hangar when the lock was fixed.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Backyardigans has ended. Sissy just came up "Mommy, are you done yet?"&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I'll hook up her computer and crash on the couch for a half hour before we go wake up Daddy. I can't believe the fussing and then playing hasn't woken him already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-5719172965834790533?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/5719172965834790533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/urgh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5719172965834790533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/5719172965834790533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/urgh.html' title='urgh.'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4631033448511246301</id><published>2009-01-04T18:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T18:05:41.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>well that was embarassing</title><content type='html'>Only to me, I'm sure... First I just had to reset my password for Blogger because I totally blanked on it and I've not needed it til today.&lt;br /&gt;Then, my elder daughter got out her camera and actually got a picture of my face right after I rubbed an irritated spot (which makes my skin go bright red at least an inch around the affected area).&lt;br /&gt;Now she has insisted I turn on the TV so she can take pictures of it. I'm sure when next I download her camera there will be fascinating pictures- I know she got my arm several times, and now she is a good 12 feet away from the tv, so there *may* be a brightly colored blob...&lt;br /&gt;and little one just woke up. huzzah. At least I finished my beer already.&lt;br /&gt;The other plus tonight is I don't have to make dinner- hubby bought a gift card to Olive Garden last night with the plan of using it for dinner tonight. This will however require careful planning as to what shirts our girls wear....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4631033448511246301?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4631033448511246301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/well-that-was-embarassing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4631033448511246301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4631033448511246301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/well-that-was-embarassing.html' title='well that was embarassing'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3424997116902377718</id><published>2009-01-01T01:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T01:25:52.964-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><title type='text'>2009!</title><content type='html'>Yeehaw. I live such an exciting life. I've had like 3 glasses of Cold Duck now (I'm not that fond of normal champagne) so the world is a smidge off kilter. Typing's pretty lousy too, but that may just be enhanced by lack of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;My father arrived for a visit today. First stop was the model home for where we're building to get the 'magic key' and go wander thru an almost done inventory home that is the same model as ours. I think he approved. He sure took alot of pictures, but he's been doing that alot recently, what with the 10 days in France and all. After the house tour, we went to the grocery store for some supplies (lunch stuff for hubby, sparkling grape juice as a gift for my night shift folks at work, the Cold Duck, etc...) then out to my mom's house to get the girls. Mom just got one of those mini-laptops for Christmas, and Dad's on his second one of them, so he was explaining features and tweaking some settings for her. At least my parents are still on good terms.&lt;br /&gt;I have NO idea what we're doing later today after sleep. Poor hubby's going to have to watch the girls a little once he gets home, I bet they get up WAY before I am willing to roll out of bed. I did promise to make french toast in the morning, since the doughnut store was closed when we stopped by on the way home tonight (drat those holiday hours!!).  I hope everybody's good with the idea of brunch cause that's what time it will be.&lt;br /&gt;My dear Tribe picked up Mark Derosa (DeRosa?) from the Cubbies to play 3rd base. That should be a good thing. At least they know not to mess with Jhonny and Asdrubal, and I'm sure Victor will get plenty of time at 1st to try and stay more healthy this season. Now they have this MLBtv channel, but our dumb provider hasn't picked it up yet. Only those jerks at TimeWarner have it so far. Once I can type without the backspace again I should complain to WOW!.&lt;br /&gt;urgh. I'm fading fast now. Goodnight, and a Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3424997116902377718?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3424997116902377718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3424997116902377718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3424997116902377718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009.html' title='2009!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3056176675078576921</id><published>2008-12-28T22:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T22:38:55.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>again with the cleaning</title><content type='html'>I came home from a double shift to find 2 freshly bathed girls, a sparkling clean kitchen, and a husband ready to flip out on all of us. Nothing out of the ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;For the record, me coming home from a double equals an hour past the girls' bedtime. I'll overlook it due to the fabulous hugs I got when I walked in.&lt;br /&gt;However, now the husband has vanished, the girls are STILL up, and I have to be rolling out of bed in 7 hours so I can go relieve the folks who just relieved me. Gotta love being shorthanded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3056176675078576921?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3056176675078576921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/again-with-cleaning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3056176675078576921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3056176675078576921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/again-with-cleaning.html' title='again with the cleaning'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-7136984454301486220</id><published>2008-12-27T10:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T11:05:40.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now it feels like Christmas</title><content type='html'>I was up until 2 this morning wrapping things and critically evaluating piles of stuff I've bought and never opened, trying to find things to give to mom, aunt, or stepdad.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile this weekend, I've washed my children, most of the laundry, more dishes than I care to think about (been baking, so I have to clean what I use then in addition to the normal stuff)... and my husband has been forced into brushing the girls teeth and reading them stories last night. He was no help during creating last night's dinner, he was no help wrapping gifts, though he did get up and fry himself a hamburger at 12:30.&lt;br /&gt;He's said all along this season that he's not doing Christmas, he's focused on house. I keep thinking I'll get something small from him but I'm trying to bring myself down from that because I bet he really didn't get anything for me. He got Sissy a computer thing (plug it into TV, play games while learning), and Dora books for Boo, but that was IT. I even had to buy the gifts for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;HIS&lt;/span&gt; family in Texas. (Well, he paid for the grownup giftswap stuff, but those were $20 total and tossed in with a trip to Target anyway. I got to cover the mall gift cards for our teenage niece and nephew.)&lt;br /&gt;I hope he's feeling better about his bank account balances- mine have gone to hell. The house people have gotten $1350 from us, I gave husband $2500 to pay off a high interest account he has, so my buffer has gone way down. (yep, seperate accounts. just never combined them and by now, we figure we'd drive each other nuts with our habits.)&lt;br /&gt;OK, 3.5 hours until going to Grammy's for Christmas! Haven't done DIDDLEY to get started on my day except read stuff online. Haven't even made the coffee. What's wrong with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-7136984454301486220?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/7136984454301486220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/now-it-feels-like-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7136984454301486220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/7136984454301486220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/now-it-feels-like-christmas.html' title='Now it feels like Christmas'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2150308638483215897</id><published>2008-12-26T10:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T10:57:44.702-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remind me why I'm supposed to be excited</title><content type='html'>Reverent, yes, I can do that. But excited? For what?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because I tend to give little gifts to the people I care about randomly over the course of the year. I just don't get super worked up for the actual 'gifting occasions'&lt;br /&gt;Didn't help that I had to get up at 5:30am, get ready for work, then call at 6:40 (just before having to wake up my girls) to figure out if our firstshift guy made it back to Ohio. He did. So I called my mom, told her go back to bed, and then wandered around the internet for a couple hours until the girls woke up at 9.&lt;br /&gt;The girls did get to open a present each from Santa, both got a monster-sized lip gloss. They were very pleased. Christmas with the family will be Saturday, even though I wound up not having to work and my stepdad did not get held at work. It's easier this way, at least now my husband has a chance of being awake and alert and maybe even pleasant!&lt;br /&gt;The thing that's got me concerned now is our trashcan is almost full, and trashday just kicked around from Friday to Monday- so we have to go 3 more days with not much space in there. With New Year's, trashday will kick from Monday to Tuesday. Gotta love it. Pain in the arse to keep up with trashday, especially if you're not sure which holidays they take.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2150308638483215897?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2150308638483215897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/remind-me-why-im-supposed-to-be-excited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2150308638483215897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2150308638483215897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/remind-me-why-im-supposed-to-be-excited.html' title='Remind me why I&apos;m supposed to be excited'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3155619385654383983</id><published>2008-12-24T22:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T22:35:35.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas eve... or is it?</title><content type='html'>Our local family is fairly small- me, hubby, our girls, my aunt, my mom, her husband. Mom and Aunt are both retired. Hubby and I both work in the maintenance hangar, so holidays off only happen if the holiday happens to fall on the right day of the week. Mom's husband is a corrections officer, so he's in the same boat we are. This year, I'm the only one who has Christmas off.&lt;br /&gt;However-&lt;br /&gt;So many people in my department took the day off, we were going to be left with the 2 first shift guys and nobody on 2nd shift. One of them volunteered to work 2nd instead, so we'd have 1 guy on each shift. On a holiday, this should be OK.&lt;br /&gt;Until goofball supposed to work 1st shift felt he HAD to go home to D.C. to pick up his girlfriend and fly back to Ohio with her. He's now stuck there, and we're stuck with no 1st shift. Since my stepdad doesn't get home until 3, I checked with mom and she was willing to watch the girls so I could pull the overtime.&lt;br /&gt;By the time I got to her house to pick up the girls tonight, she and her husband had talked, and he's betting he'll get frozen (mandatory overtime) to cover 2nd shift at the jail.&lt;br /&gt;So Christmas has been moved to Saturday, because we're all off then. So is it really Christmas eve? It feels like it, we went to church tonight (and only survived by ducking out to the multipurpose room to run and yell for the middle half of the service).  The uber-plus to this is now I don't have to stay up all night wrapping presents- just 1 each for the girls since stepdad started talking to them about Santa bringing them presents tonight. He was rather stymied by where Santa would leave it- he wanted to say under the tree but we don't have one up. I chimed in that Santa would find a place to leave ONE present for each of them, and bring the rest to Granma's house for Saturday. Luckily, they agreed to that.&lt;br /&gt;Oh crud, I gotta go wrap something.&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3155619385654383983?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3155619385654383983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve-or-is-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3155619385654383983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3155619385654383983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve-or-is-it.html' title='Christmas eve... or is it?'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-3645424478500351048</id><published>2008-12-23T05:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T05:39:35.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mornings</title><content type='html'>2 mornings a week, the alarm starts going off at 4:15. I have mixed feelings about these mornings. I generally don't manage to drag myself out of bed until much closer to 5 (sometimes after it), but that little time between when I get up and dressed and when I have to get the girls up and dressed is so peaceful... sit here browsing stuff online while drinking coffee.&lt;br /&gt;2 other mornings a week, I do the same thing but 40 minutes later. Somehow it just doesn't have the same effect. Perhaps its the lack of sleep on the earlier days.&lt;br /&gt;Ah well. Time to start the car, do makeup, and roll the girls out of bed all so we can leave the house by 6 to have me leaving Grammy's house by 6:35 so I arrive at work prior to 7.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-3645424478500351048?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/3645424478500351048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/mornings.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3645424478500351048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/3645424478500351048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/mornings.html' title='mornings'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4641273387847271254</id><published>2008-12-21T21:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T22:18:25.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>at what price cleanliness?</title><content type='html'>I came home somewhat pleased with myself. I stopped at Target and bought (among other things) a strand of blue LED christmas lights so my girls could have SOME kind of decorations to look at. I walked in to a totally picked up and dusted living room and my husband scrubbing the sink. He'd already done the stove. This is both a good and a bad thing. I really appreciate that he cleans, heaven knows I wouldn't scrub everything that much. The problem is, when he's on a cleaning binge, he gets so focused that any distraction is cause for an explosion.&lt;br /&gt;I've tried to get him to realize that we'd all be happier if he would save the cleaning for while the girls are sleeping, be it naptime or after bedtime. But he won't do it. He used to start the kitchen cleanathon just after dinner on one of his nights off, while I got the girls ready for bed, which led to extreme frustration for me when they insisted HE read them stories and HE insisted the sink and backsplash and rangetop needed scrubbed. So at least today he waited until naptime for the bigger jobs. But it left him tense and irritable the rest of the night. Doesn't help that Sissy has been trying everyone's patience for the past 2 weeks straight. He up and vanished while I was getting Boo's pajamas on her. Eventually he reappeared from the bedroom, and laid on the couch. He did not move. He did not speak to or even acknowledge the girls again, even as I had to go physically remove them from the bathroom where they were demolishing things in an effort to brush their teeth by themselves.&lt;br /&gt;We have the appointment for our loan application tomorrow at 9am. I have to go to work at 7, then duck out to meet him at the place. I think he still needs to print out paystubs and a bank statement, and dig out last year's W2s. If I mention it, I'll get a nasty snarl at half volume. If I don't, the worry streak instilled by my mother will run rampant. I called him earlier this afternoon, while printing my stuff at work, and offered to print his as well. (He answered with a grunt.)&lt;br /&gt;Ah, no wonder I poured myself a double size glass of wine. Yay subconcious, good looking out.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, it is now 4 outside. Wind chill is -20.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4641273387847271254?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4641273387847271254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/at-what-price-cleanliness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4641273387847271254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4641273387847271254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/at-what-price-cleanliness.html' title='at what price cleanliness?'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-456327600100914106</id><published>2008-12-21T19:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:19:41.382-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BRRRR!!!!!</title><content type='html'>It was 34 when I left for work before dawn this morning.&lt;br /&gt;It was 14 when I left work, just before dusk.&lt;br /&gt;It was 10 when I left Target, 30 minutes after sunset.&lt;br /&gt;and it's been howling wind all day! Current wind chill is -11.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sortof sad I looked that up... now I won't want to let the dog out again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-456327600100914106?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/456327600100914106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/brrrr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/456327600100914106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/456327600100914106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/brrrr.html' title='BRRRR!!!!!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-6874025952631067527</id><published>2008-12-20T20:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T20:14:25.627-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boo'/><title type='text'>let there be color</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SU2YF0QJjdI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KZ2xI5TlE4Y/s1600-h/P1020938.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SU2YF0QJjdI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KZ2xI5TlE4Y/s200/P1020938.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282045163668606418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house will be platinum grey, with slate shake accent and midnight blue shutters and front door.&lt;br /&gt;I'm quite excited.&lt;br /&gt;We nixed the fireplace in order to afford stainless appliances, but didn't like any of the refrigerators they offered so that will be the standard black.&lt;br /&gt;I also was talked down from my Silestone countertop. I'm still somewhat sad about that, but I can live with vinyl pretending to be granite that we wound up with.&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, the options we selected today dropped the price by a thousand dollars.&lt;br /&gt;I have a Bunny Boo again. Since it was cold (30) today when we were heading out the door, she got to put on her bunny hat. It has not come off since, even thru naptime. This is a common occurance, so common that I have not bothered to take pictures of the phenomenon since October.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-6874025952631067527?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/6874025952631067527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/let-there-be-color.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6874025952631067527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/6874025952631067527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/let-there-be-color.html' title='let there be color'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SU2YF0QJjdI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KZ2xI5TlE4Y/s72-c/P1020938.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-4243191585843882833</id><published>2008-12-19T20:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T20:18:35.225-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>No! No push button!</title><content type='html'>Now that Sissy (the 3yo) has learned how to type, it's even more frustrating trying to use the computer with her around. Boo just randomly hits buttons. Sissy aims for things, and if she's sneaky her word will mix in with mine. That or I get random 'w' or 'q' stuck in places.&lt;br /&gt;I may have to hurt my mother in law. She got the girls some phone that theoretically teaches numbers and some shapes/colors in English or Spanish. It has 2 volume levels, but since the lower level is reached by having the switch in the middle position, the girls never put it there. I've been eyeing it, trying to figure out how to modify the speaker to mute it. No luck yet, it would involve totally opening the case of the toy and I don't have THAT much energy.&lt;br /&gt;My other super annoying thing today is the christmas card that arrived from my stepmother. She used my previous married name, and addressed the thing to the XXX Family.  She knows better, even if it's been months since we've talked and a year since she's seen us. (Father left her a few years ago, though they are still not officially divorced.)&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, today the mail also brought us the official signed by somebody important purchase contract for our new house. We're buying a new build, so tomorrow we go to the design center to choose colors and flooring and appliances and all that jazz. Can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-4243191585843882833?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/4243191585843882833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-no-push-button.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4243191585843882833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/4243191585843882833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-no-push-button.html' title='No! No push button!'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6784270078705025965.post-2400394377418921129</id><published>2008-12-19T15:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T15:16:55.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what am I doing here?</title><content type='html'>I don't know what made me decide to click on the link to get my own blog... I've thought about it for awhile... whether or not anybody reads it, I think it may be good for me to get things out of my head. Make room for all the other junk up there.&lt;br /&gt;Today's been fun so far. My sinuses are somehow tied into barometric pressure, so the big storm that blew in overnight caused me to wake up feeling like there were bricks in my face. I've been awake just over 6 hours and have taken 6 ibuprofen tablets, as well as a dose of Tylenol sinus. I still don't feel better. I can't keep up with the girls today, plus it's my typical laundry day. I've done 1 load so far, and need to go get that from the dryer.&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, typing nonsense, when I should be downstairs folding whites.&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, Boo (20 months) has showed off several new words today: puppy, flower, and grape.&lt;br /&gt;I think naptime is calling to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6784270078705025965-2400394377418921129?l=ptooie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/feeds/2400394377418921129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-am-i-doing-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2400394377418921129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6784270078705025965/posts/default/2400394377418921129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptooie.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-am-i-doing-here.html' title='what am I doing here?'/><author><name>ptooie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08802385515056906490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yBvYavBE2rw/SXkGMq_o84I/AAAAAAAAAC4/HADwslWMv9A/S220/DSCF1176.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
