tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343726902024-03-13T04:27:41.322-06:00William's Worldbrent - lori - williamAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-58024250385774054352012-03-16T06:00:00.007-06:002012-03-16T13:47:26.895-06:00Saucy<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">We often feed William food after secretly slipping in additional ingredients like spices, butter, sauces, and so on. He enjoys them without realizing we have improved what he is eating. He thinks he eats plain rice and toast, but they usually have butter added (in an effort to fatten him up a little). He prefers plain pasta to tomato sauces, though he LOVES pesto and alfredo. But sometimes we still toss his pasta in a light tomato sauce. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Recently at dinner, Will ate all of his plain pasta and wanted more, but he had eaten everything we had cooked. We suggested he could eat the other items on his plate, but we were not making more pasta just for him. He continued to insist that he needed more pasta. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">We then brought out some leftovers from what he had eaten just two days before. It was pasta lightly tossed in a garlic tomato sauce. He noticed the sauce and refused to eat it proclaiming, “I only like plain pasta, not mixed with tomato sauce.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Will, you just ate this the day before yesterday and loved it!” we exclaimed. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I didn’t eat this! I want plain pasta,” he insisted. Though, we can assure you, it is exactly what he had eaten two days previous and more than one helping to boot. We tried to convince him that he had indeed eaten that exact pasta with the sauce, with hopes that he would just accept the fact eat it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Frustrated, Will promptly stood up and walked away from the dining table. He returned with a piece of plain paper and a pencil and began writing. “What are you writing, Will?” we asked. He just kept writing without uttering a single word. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Once completing his composition, he folded the paper in half, wrote his name on the front, sat down, and ate the rest of his dinner without touching the tomato contaminated pasta. When we asked what he had written he mumbled with a full mouth, “it is a reminder for me. It is going on my bedroom door.” After asking a few times, he finally let us read the note: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;">Remember to never eat pasta again </span></i></i><br />
<i><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;">until Mom makes you plain pasta with salt!</span></i></i></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-37590386574997514792012-03-14T10:12:00.001-06:002012-03-14T20:14:30.234-06:00A Child’s Prayer<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Lucky is such a cute black cocker spaniel. His face draws you in, with those deep brown eyes. Lucky does not just wag his tail, but he wags the entire lower half of his body. He wags so fast and crazily he can hardly walk at times and it is a wonder he can stand on his hind legs. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As much as we love Lucky, he can be frustrating. His desire to remove the stuffing out of everything seems to be an addiction. His toys and dog beds have all fallen victim to this insatiable need of his. Lori walked out of the family room the other day to see balls of fluff all over the hallway floor surrounding a now deflated dog bed. At her wits end, she declared in a tense voice, “Lucky, you need to stop destroying your beds!” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Will dashed into the hallway, quickly offering words of wisdom, “Mom, I know what you can do. You can pray for Lucky to not do it and then you won’t be so frustrated.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Is that what you do, Will?” Lori inquired. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">“I pray when I am worried or scared about something and it works for me.” Will continued to explain, “Like the other night I was afraid that there would be a flood here. So I prayed. And there wasn’t one!”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-20109047291165160472011-09-30T11:03:00.002-06:002011-09-30T11:03:37.167-06:00Drowning ConcernsIn June, we visited the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, CA. We had a great time with Grandma Pitt, sister Sheryl, several of Sheryl’s adult kids and grandchildren, and our friend Dante. <br />
<br />
<br />
Will loved the day we spent there. He repeatedly visited the petting pools where he could pet sharks, manta-rays, starfish, sea anemones, jelly fish and other fish and sea creatures. We fed birds and visited every single exhibit, making sure not to miss anything. Will was even chosen to be the helper for the seal and sea lion show (he is always quick and enthusiastic to volunteer for such things). <br />
<br />
Near the end of our day, we watched a cool presentation about the melting glaciers and ice caps around the world and the predicted affect that could have on the planet and the land we live on. Will didn’t seem to be paying attention and gave his usual, “it was great,” when I asked him what he thought about the movie. Later that day he approached me and a few days later he talked to Lori concerning the presentation. He had a genuine concern for all of our friends and family who lived on the coasts of California and felt we should invite them to move to Utah. <br />
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Our hearts were touched by the concern he had been carrying with him since visiting the aquarium. <br />
<br />
Lesson to us: William is paying far better attention that we think he is and he holds on to things he hears, and ponders them. I must admit that this makes me more than happy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-12146337658922050962011-05-06T11:14:00.002-06:002011-05-06T11:16:22.434-06:00The MohawkYesterday, as we drove home from our Cinco de Mayo dinner, I spotted a tough looking motorcyclist sporting a mohawk. I pointed out the burly cyclist to Will because he seems to have a fascination with that particular hair style. <br />
<br />
“Awesome!” he cried. <br />
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Lori started to inform Will that he will never have one and I quickly hushed the comment. I’m thinking if we put a verbal ban on his adolescent desire for what he sees as a fun Mohawk, the seed of rebellion is then planted in his mind. I can clearly imagine Will crawling into his bedroom window instead of walking through the front door because of his newly unispiked hairstyle. I think Lori saw what I was thinking, so she resumed with a different approach. <br />
<br />
Lori: I don't like mohawks. <br />
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Will: You don't like them?<br />
<br />
Lori: I don't like how they look on people. Do you like how they look or do you want one?<br />
<br />
Will: I want one. <br />
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Lori: No. Not on my watch.<br />
<br />
Will: So you are saying it's not ever gonna happen?<br />
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Lori: Yes. That's what I'm saying. <br />
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Will: We'll see about that.<br />
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Seed of rebellion firmly planted and sprouting.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-33224547343470598192011-05-01T13:19:00.001-06:002011-05-01T13:20:34.848-06:00Tulip Festival at Thanksgiving Point<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Saturday we met our friends Sarah and Terry Price and four of their kids, T, Sam, Rachel and Rebekah at Thanksgiving Point for the Tulip Festival. We hadn't seen them in such a long time, we had a great time catching up and enjoying the beautiful scenery!</span><br />
<div align="center"><span style="font-family: Arial;">the lovely Sarah Sue</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jBMx0sgNJJo/Tb2uJeUrxJI/AAAAAAAAARc/mpSuH4zJB_k/s1600/086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jBMx0sgNJJo/Tb2uJeUrxJI/AAAAAAAAARc/mpSuH4zJB_k/s320/086.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> purple tulips.. always a highlight!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3ZmmwPIjaA8/Tb2uR-RJoCI/AAAAAAAAARg/yzjWr4v65Gs/s1600/085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3ZmmwPIjaA8/Tb2uR-RJoCI/AAAAAAAAARg/yzjWr4v65Gs/s320/085.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will spent a good portion of the day running from </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rachel and Rebekah... he loved it!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRUrVOcdRK4/Tb2uXo08R-I/AAAAAAAAARk/MjU0KMykrHM/s1600/084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRUrVOcdRK4/Tb2uXo08R-I/AAAAAAAAARk/MjU0KMykrHM/s320/084.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lo0ZChg7cHI/Tb2wcdnOwfI/AAAAAAAAARs/3vy4_x6igtQ/s1600/074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lo0ZChg7cHI/Tb2wcdnOwfI/AAAAAAAAARs/3vy4_x6igtQ/s320/074.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sam, Will and Rachel</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KRTZo_fVAEU/Tb2wjRKB9jI/AAAAAAAAARw/WESCAoQyUbk/s1600/072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KRTZo_fVAEU/Tb2wjRKB9jI/AAAAAAAAARw/WESCAoQyUbk/s320/072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Thanks to T, who had quarters, they were </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">able to buy fish food and feed the Koi</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBqhGo6K9AI/Tb2wptIsOdI/AAAAAAAAAR0/LG4hwhVrGg0/s1600/070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBqhGo6K9AI/Tb2wptIsOdI/AAAAAAAAAR0/LG4hwhVrGg0/s320/070.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Will has a fascination with water... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">one day he will put his face in it :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SwJ3QDO8W6k/Tb2wzpH9n2I/AAAAAAAAAR4/rBRESp1DmP0/s1600/056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SwJ3QDO8W6k/Tb2wzpH9n2I/AAAAAAAAAR4/rBRESp1DmP0/s320/056.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jImuNPtMuAM/Tb2w6mUmPaI/AAAAAAAAAR8/W93kD0LgeWI/s1600/047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jImuNPtMuAM/Tb2w6mUmPaI/AAAAAAAAAR8/W93kD0LgeWI/s320/047.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will, Rebekah and Sam</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d8mHG2XN2hg/Tb2w-aSD9JI/AAAAAAAAASA/O9xC25Sndg8/s1600/048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d8mHG2XN2hg/Tb2w-aSD9JI/AAAAAAAAASA/O9xC25Sndg8/s320/048.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-68eINKTCIlo/Tb2xCE-OJeI/AAAAAAAAASE/D5_YekgQgGs/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-68eINKTCIlo/Tb2xCE-OJeI/AAAAAAAAASE/D5_YekgQgGs/s320/053.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iJ9QKV_8sCc/Tb2xFkeXIKI/AAAAAAAAASI/exLD2I50zE8/s1600/042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iJ9QKV_8sCc/Tb2xFkeXIKI/AAAAAAAAASI/exLD2I50zE8/s320/042.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AxK8nk81p0s/Tb2xKPxWW1I/AAAAAAAAASM/Mq8hFtxvOi0/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AxK8nk81p0s/Tb2xKPxWW1I/AAAAAAAAASM/Mq8hFtxvOi0/s320/041.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will's favorite spot at TP is the Secret Garden </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">where he can play in the fountain.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zan__td4Jw8/Tb2ueVWr8mI/AAAAAAAAARo/U2Lug4NBa5s/s1600/080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zan__td4Jw8/Tb2ueVWr8mI/AAAAAAAAARo/U2Lug4NBa5s/s320/080.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">... a good day!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-5529764830856135852011-03-23T14:23:00.003-06:002011-04-29T15:59:58.374-06:00Education & Priorities<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will was talking about which university he will attend. He is 7. He is thinking about his advanced education. I'm pretty sure I didn't know anything about advanced education when I was 7.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The discussion turned to the possibility of BYU (he could go to any respected institution as far as we are concerned). He liked this idea because he could live at home. Our hearts are warmed by his desire to be near us, but we figure in a few years he may not want to be so near his parents. Lori asked if he would want to actually live in the dorms with his friends, but he figured it would be nicer to live with us. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a few moments of silence Will inquired, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mom, is the<span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"> <span style="color: black;"><em>BYU Creamery</em></span></span> closer to our house or the dorms?” </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Well, it's closer to the dorms,” she responded. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hmmm, then that’s tricky.”</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At least he knows what his priorities are. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-82244262610559426782010-09-21T16:30:00.007-06:002010-09-23T09:59:36.164-06:00HeartbreakersEarly in the mornings, Lori takes me to catch the bus. On the rare occasion that William is awake at that dreadful hour, he goes with us, but he usually stays home with Jennifer, Tana, and Lucky. <br />
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Will has been told that he must go down to the car <u>with one of us</u> in the instances he wakes up. He cannot just walk down to the car on his own just in case we do not see or hear him and the worst occurs (just the thought tightens my chest and gives me shivers). <br />
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This morning Will woke up and starting coming down the hall as I was rushing down the stairs to the running car, where Lori was waiting for me. He was a good boy and did not go down to the car alone. He did go into the library where the bay windows hang over the driveway below. He banged on the windows, crying, tears streaming down his face, and yelled for us to let him go along as we were pulling away from the house. We neither heard nor saw him. <br />
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Lori arrived back home and found Will sitting in the family room chair with puffed red eyes and a quivering bottom lip. With a shakey voice, he told her what had happened. While typing this, it breaks my heart as I consider how he was feeling.<br />
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Will and Lori now have a plan, should this happen again. He is to flash the lights off an on in an effort to get our attention. In the mean time, I will tip-toe as light as possible in the mornings to allow him to sleep as much as we can. I love to have him with me, however, his evening moods are not so cheery when he rides along to catch those early busses.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-91172292132544079272010-09-20T16:04:00.000-06:002010-09-20T16:04:09.990-06:00CharmerLori has many talents I admire. There is one, though, at which I marvel. She is a master mood charmer. <br />
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<br />
When Will is crying, she has always had a way of saying just the right thing, making the perfect noise, or masterfully distorting her face in a way that instantly turns his tears into chortling laughter (tears still on cheeks). Now that he gets angry at us on occasion, she has been honing her skills to alter his deeper, more determined moods with increasing success. I have tried to emulate this skill, but no go. It simply does not work. Perhaps it is because I am not humorous; at least not on purpose. <br />
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I am not a charmer, but am ever grateful that she is.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-48153736704405474792010-09-16T16:36:00.003-06:002010-09-17T20:48:33.909-06:00Best Day Ever!We spent this past Labor Day doing anything but labor. We began the day by eating breakfast together. This may seem minor, but for us it is a rare occurrence. <br />
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We then gathered our much-too-infrequently-used swim gear, loaded the trunk of the car, and headed off to the pool of Will's choice. It was actually his second choice; I was not about to spend the money for just a few hours at Seven Peaks. We were so anxious to hit the water that when we arrived, the pool was not even open yet. So, quick-as-a-flash (Will's term), we ran to grab something we could eat for lunch later in the day. <br />
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It was a great afternoon of swimming, sliding, running--wait, it says "no running" about every 3 feet at the pool. Will did not seem to care, so we spent the day yelling, "don't run," "no running," and "Will, what does that sign say?" Will brought his new (by new, I mean purchased LONG ago and finally used for the first time) blow-up sea turtle that is about 4' by 5'. It was the hit of the pool. Everyone wanted to either ride it, push it, or swim under it. <br />
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I spent part of our pool time tyring to help Will overcome his dislike of having a wet head or face. Lori does her water therapy when he is in the bathtub a few times a week and it seems to be working. I figured this was my day to contribute to the progress. The pool has metal buckets hanging from a pole about 20 feet above the pool. They continually fill up and one at a time, tip over, and dump on the heads of those swimming below. Pushing Will, the fearless turtle rider, I inched closer to the dumping buckets. Just as the water started pelting the turtle, Will cried out in protest. Too late. Spuu-laaa-sh! Um, he was <u>not</u> happy! <br />
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After Will forgave me, we enjoyed the rest of our time at the pool. The water therapy, however, may have actually worked. The next thing we knew, Will was running in and out (again and again) of the giant, towering water mushroom that continuously pours solid sheets of water from its top, down into the pool. Progress. <br />
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Our next phase of adventure was the annual Labor Day Luau at Thanksgiving Point. We sped home, showered, dressed in our best luau gear, and headed to the gardens. You see, Lori LOVES Hawaii and has been several times because she used to work for a Hawaii tour company (I consistently remind her that <u>we</u> have never been). Also, we all love Thanksgiving Point and go often. We go to the gardens, shops, dinosaur museum, movies, glass studio, and restaurants. Sometimes we go just to read books together in the gardens. <br />
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The Luau was very well attended. There were hundreds of people there. Initially, the pre-purchased ticket line was long, but the mood was festive, the food was plentiful and oh-so-good, and we loved the entertainment. Everyone was in a friendly mood (except for the major complainer behind us in line--we made sure not to sit by him). We all had a great time. <br />
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While driving home, I pondered our full day together as a family. We were all very quiet. As we pulled into the driveway, Will stretched and said, "This was the best day ever!"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-89884091541832600562010-08-24T15:12:00.000-06:002010-08-24T15:12:38.203-06:00Living up to His NameThis is another, “where does this boy come from?” moment for us. <br />
<br />
Will is always surprising and amusing us with his observations of the small details found in this world, but some of those observations would only be appreciated by those interested in music. <br />
<br />
He often makes comments about music and this includes soundtracks and orchestrations. He loves to direct music and is sure to include the background instrumental parts in his conducting. This always amuses us (and gives me hopes for a future in music). Lately he has been singing the music from Mindy’s (Gledhill) new CD and has picked up the lyrics pretty quickly. <br />
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His most recent comment came last night as I put a West Wing DVD into the player. After a few minutes of the soundtrack cycling on the menu (waiting for me to press play). Will says, “do you hear those horns in the music?” We didn’t hear what he meant at first so he said, “it goes like this,” and sang the horn part for us. Sure enough in one small section of the title song, there are pulsating brass horns playing in the background. <br />
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Where does he come from?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-45760780750067906312010-07-08T15:14:00.000-06:002010-07-08T15:14:19.387-06:00Dental BreakthroughGoing to the dentist is always a traumatic event for Will and in turn, just as traumatic for Lori (or worse). It is usually filled with screaming, crying, kicking, yelling, and pleading; and by the end of the appointment those actions include almost everyone involved. This includes any visit, even simple check ups or cleanings. Lori is usually the one to take him in since I work up in Salt Lake. Though I did go with them the day they were going to have to put him out to do some extensive work. <br />
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Yesterday was Will's next check up. You can feel the tensions rise in our home each day closer we come to such an appointment. In the afternoon, I received the following phone message: <br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">"Hey, Dad! It’s me, William. Um, we’re just leaving the dentist building and I—was—SSSUUUPER good at my dentist appointment today. I was so good I even sat in the chair and I didn’t even scream or cry or whine or anything. I just went quick-as-a-flash to get my dentist appointment done AND I got one of those rubber sticky hands AND NOW it’s sticking to me. Call me when you get this message. <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">BYYYYYYYEEEE</span>!!"</div><br />
He naturally received a reward for his behavior. But I think his biggest reward was the excitement he felt about making it through the appointment with such stellar behavior. In all reality, I was happiest for Lori. Tender mercies.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-31786711691714818942010-07-08T14:37:00.002-06:002010-07-08T15:20:47.481-06:00Street DancingWe asked our friend, Nancy, to write a first hand experience of William's breakout career in street dancing:<br />
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Will’s mom (my best friend, Lori) said Will wanted to wait with me as we camped out at the 'Provo Parade University Street-party' (holding places for the next morning's Independence parade) while she and Brent took my two older daughters home to clean up and baked sticky buns for the following morning. “Of course, he can stay!”, being that I love that little guy almost to death! He jumped out of the car and his parents left.<br />
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I was playing cards with my 10 yr old daughter <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Caitlyn</span> when Will walked up to me and asked if I had a container. "What kind of container, Will?” and he replied, “something to put money in.” I said, ‘Sorry, buddy, I don’t have any containers here. Hey, what if I finish drinking this water and you can have my water bottle?” And with raised eye brows and a smile he said, “Sure, that’ll work!” So I gulped the last of my water and handed him the bottle. My curiosity got the best of me, “Why do you want this bottle anyway?” And with all the confidence of a teenager, 6 ½ yr old Will replied: “I want to dance on the sidewalk so people will put money in it.” I said ‘You want to dance for money?” My mind raced with Lori and Brent’s possible reactions when they would find out I let their son street dance and solicit money. I asked why he needs money and he said "I’m saving for a Disney cruise!" Of course he was, I knew that.<br />
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So, there we are, an empty water bottle at his feet, and Will doing the ROBOT dance. He had a green glow necklace around his face from his chin to the top of his head. Very cute. People would walk by and I’d point to Will and say “Little man dancing for nickels and dimes!” And all types of people would stop and drop in their change. <br />
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A couple of college girls asked if they could take a picture with him. “Sure! I’d say. One group was about 12 people large. They surrounded Will and asked me to take the picture, they left him a $5 bill in his bottle! Guys stopped on their skateboards and hand-holding couples took pictures with their cell phones. There was Will, giving the camera a thumbs up! If I got distracted and people walked by without me bringing him to their attention, he’d yell towards me and say, “Nance, you forgot the money call!” So, I’d apologize and say, “I’ll get the next group, sorry!”<br />
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I was so impressed with his diligence and confidence. A sign of things to come….<br />
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Post note: Will counted the money he made from dancing for an hour and his haul was $15.58. I love that even though it was pretty late at night, he promptly separated his earnings into tithing, mission, Disney cruise savings, spending, and no-touch savings. He is already far ahead of his parents.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-22989373030490420042010-05-04T16:05:00.000-06:002010-05-04T16:05:52.932-06:00Huntington Beach<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we were able to go to <span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">HB</span> in March to visit and have a little vacation.</span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we went to <span style="color: blue;">Balboa</span> one afternoon just to hang out and </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will talked Brent into riding the carousel</span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S-CYKZ9bUFI/AAAAAAAAAQg/S8Reg_XqZI0/s1600/will+and+Brent+on+balboa+carousel+-+mar+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S-CYKZ9bUFI/AAAAAAAAAQg/S8Reg_XqZI0/s400/will+and+Brent+on+balboa+carousel+-+mar+2010.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">then we went to <span style="color: blue;">HB</span> to hang out at the beach</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S-CYHHSHRnI/AAAAAAAAAQY/SPUsyoUHbeg/s1600/will+at+the+beach+-+mar+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S-CYHHSHRnI/AAAAAAAAAQY/SPUsyoUHbeg/s400/will+at+the+beach+-+mar+2010.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for not being born in or ever living there... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will is a true <span style="color: #38761d;">Californian </span>and <span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">beach</span> lover.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S-CYFXLFn6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ADFquViIOkk/s1600/will+at+the+beach+2+-+mar+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S-CYFXLFn6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ADFquViIOkk/s400/will+at+the+beach+2+-+mar+2010.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-85951375269644932622010-04-16T15:57:00.000-06:002010-04-16T15:57:14.542-06:00sorry about the picture quality...<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">please excuse the quality (or lack thereof) of my pictures lately. I dropped my camera and it broke... and all I have is my phone. not good.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-62804344484629235352010-04-16T15:55:00.000-06:002010-04-16T15:55:04.301-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year I am one of the Room Reps for Will's Kindergarten class. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(it's no longer room "mother" because that's not PC)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every year they have <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Teacher Appreciation Day</span>.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The room reps are responsible for decorating the classroom door. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, of course, I went to my creative husband for ideas. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is what he came up with. It was the <span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">hit</span> of the school!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8javAqotXI/AAAAAAAAAP4/tE9NbHANRW4/s1600/Mrs+Perry+Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8javAqotXI/AAAAAAAAAP4/tE9NbHANRW4/s400/Mrs+Perry+Poster.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8jawz5CAYI/AAAAAAAAAQA/n0GyUxRiaxc/s1600/Mrs+Perry+Poster+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8jawz5CAYI/AAAAAAAAAQA/n0GyUxRiaxc/s400/Mrs+Perry+Poster+2.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The school theme this year is 60 years of stars (it's the school's 60th anniversary). And they asked that the doors incorporate the school theme. Brent found various pictures of oscar winning actresses posing with their statues. We cut out their faces and replaced them with pictures of Mrs. Perry. They were hilarious! Mrs. Perry said she had teachers lined up at her door after school to get a glimpse at the poster.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-21013774667977162702010-04-16T15:25:00.001-06:002010-04-16T15:26:29.231-06:00the absence of two front teeth...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will and I went to pick up pizza one night. We came out with the pizza and as I opened my car door I hear a loud <span style="color: red; font-size: large;">THUD!</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked up and saw this....</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8jVGE3CBuI/AAAAAAAAAPw/oaPB17nZRkg/s1600/Will+on+windowshield+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8jVGE3CBuI/AAAAAAAAAPw/oaPB17nZRkg/s400/Will+on+windowshield+2.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will had jumped onto the hood of the car </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and stuck his face in the windshield. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a perfect shot of his missing front teeth.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8jVBz6IRxI/AAAAAAAAAPo/jHn2fjUHd7M/s1600/Will+on+windowshield.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/S8jVBz6IRxI/AAAAAAAAAPo/jHn2fjUHd7M/s400/Will+on+windowshield.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-26704579128685849912009-11-18T13:20:00.000-07:002009-11-18T13:25:12.060-07:00girls? ... seriously?a conversation i had with will today...<br /><br />Will: what day is it today?<br /><br />Me: wednesday.<br /><br />Will: is it a school day?<br /><br />Me: yes<br /><br />Will: oh, good. that means I can see Hannah and Livy. and i can play with them at recess.<br /><br />Me: why don't you play with the boys at recess? why do you like to play with the girls all the time.<br /><br />Will: because Hannah and Livy are just so beautiful!<br /><br />.... 5 years old... going on 16....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-68193906798510325182009-11-14T13:58:00.013-07:002009-11-15T16:32:54.069-07:00pumpkinland<div align="center"></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/Sv8bClDu9bI/AAAAAAAAAOc/8VVubsW5Ebs/s1600-h/Pumpkinland+2009+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404067808989345202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/Sv8bClDu9bI/AAAAAAAAAOc/8VVubsW5Ebs/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+004.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"></a></p>Will's first fieldtrip was to <span style="color:#993300;">Pumpkinland</span>.<br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404468488160694946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCHdLScUqI/AAAAAAAAAO8/GapYwWAhC14/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+001.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center">He was very excited to be going on his first school bus.<br /></p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404469921337334194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCIwmSYWbI/AAAAAAAAAPE/0ODrhIkD37w/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+003.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center">Of course, it was the day that it had to <span style="color:#3366ff;">SNOW</span>... so we went to pumpkinland in the midst of a little snowstorm. </p><p align="center">They sang Halloween songs all the way there.</p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404467357588775826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCGbXlF45I/AAAAAAAAAO0/4aZRYonsfAc/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+005.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">The kids were cold and wet, but they had a lot of fun.<br /><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404472001514377378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCKprjPEKI/AAAAAAAAAPU/DwNJ3jlg9NU/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+007.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">Will's friends from Primary....<br />Caleb, Will, Isaac, and Seth. </p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404463962998313410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCDVxvqEcI/AAAAAAAAAOs/o2JHSIkoWCE/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+006.jpg" border="0" /><br />Will and Hannah </p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404471038066669714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCJxmbZuJI/AAAAAAAAAPM/zyNeJ339iiw/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+009.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center">"The Pumpkin Group"</p><p align="center">Livy, Jacque, Will and Modoc<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404473478199948850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SwCL_oogtjI/AAAAAAAAAPc/DenfadQtatI/s400/Pumpkinland+2009+008.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center">They each got to pick out their own pumpkin to take home. Will was so ready to leave by then.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-86228762123280393952009-10-09T06:13:00.002-06:002009-10-09T06:21:25.392-06:00the humbling perspective...So the other day I was helping Will practice the piano... and as we are playing the "cup game", where he chooses one of his "crossings" to play from one cup on top of the piano and puts into the other cup, he notices Brent's high school picture...<br /><br />Will: Mom! LOOK!! There's a picture of Dad when he was THIN!<br /><br />Me: Yep, that's a picture when he was in High School.<br /><br />Will: But Mom, he was really thin!<br /><br />Me: He was.<br /><br />Will: But he was thin then.... thin like you!<br /><br />(Of course, at that point, the love for my son exuded forth...)<br /><br />Me: (smiling) Thanks, Will!<br /><br />Will: But you're WIDE thin.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-49364246641340816702009-09-30T12:07:00.003-06:002009-09-30T12:17:39.773-06:00Fall has arrived...<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsOetELvxgI/AAAAAAAAAOU/c-xqIxk8PJY/s1600-h/Fall+leaves.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387324076319557122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsOetELvxgI/AAAAAAAAAOU/c-xqIxk8PJY/s400/Fall+leaves.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"><span style="font-size:130%;">To Autumn</span><br /><br />SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,<br /></span><a name="1"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;<br /></span><a name="2"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">Conspiring with him how to load and bless<br /></span><a name="3"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;<br /></span><a name="4"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,<br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;<br /></span><a name="6"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells<br /></span><a name="7"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,<br /></span><a name="8"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> And still more, later flowers for the bees,<br /></span><a name="9"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Until they think warm days will never cease,<br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.<br /></span><a name="11"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"><br />2.Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?<br /></span><a name="12"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find<br /></span><a name="13"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,<br /></span><a name="14"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;<br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,<br /></span><a name="16"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook<br /></span><a name="17"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:<br /></span><a name="18"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep<br /></span><a name="19"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Steady thy laden head across a brook;<br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,<br /></span><a name="21"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.<br /></span><a name="22"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"><br />3.Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?<br /></span><a name="23"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—<br /></span><a name="24"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,<br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;<br /></span><a name="26"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn<br /></span><a name="27"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Among the river sallows, borne aloft<br /></span><a name="28"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;<br /></span><a name="29"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;">And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;<br /> <br /> Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft<br /></span><a name="31"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;<br /></span><a name="32"></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993300;"> And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.</span></div><br /><div align="center">-- John Keats</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsOelrhR3vI/AAAAAAAAAOM/uHeBM2st6B0/s1600-h/Fall+trees.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387323949439901426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsOelrhR3vI/AAAAAAAAAOM/uHeBM2st6B0/s400/Fall+trees.jpg" border="0" /></a>(photos taken in Provo Canyon)</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-36509384869798551822009-09-29T15:21:00.004-06:002009-09-29T15:49:46.299-06:00the canning continues<div align="center"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;">and then there were <span style="color:#cc0000;">tomatoes</span>....</span></div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsJ8g8Sc21I/AAAAAAAAAOE/GJvyDocogDw/s1600-h/Home+Life+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387005009669708626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsJ8g8Sc21I/AAAAAAAAAOE/GJvyDocogDw/s400/Home+Life+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;">... and <span style="color:#ff0000;">salsa</span>!</span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsJ7XLF0RHI/AAAAAAAAAN8/JN0aacXMVN4/s1600-h/Home+Life+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387003742332929138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SsJ7XLF0RHI/AAAAAAAAAN8/JN0aacXMVN4/s400/Home+Life+003.jpg" border="0" /></a>we have been so blessed by our generous neighbors<br /> and all of the free food we are receiving!<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-20259137377983886232009-09-25T15:32:00.002-06:002009-09-25T15:42:23.866-06:00unconditional love...Me: Will, it's time to turn off the tv and get dressed.<br /><br />Will: I'm watching another show.<br /><br />Me: I told you it was time to get dressed when the last show was over.<br /><br />Will: I know, but now I'm watching another show.<br /><br />Me: You need to turn off the tv and get dressed.<br /><br />Will: wait until this show is over.<br /><br />Me: You can either turn off the tv, or I will turn it off for you.<br /><br />Will: no, you can't.<br /><br />~CLICK!~ (off goes the tv)<br /><br />Will: Where's the phone?<br /><br />Me: Who do you want to call?<br /><br />Will: Dad.<br /><br />He gets the phone and dials the number. He's waiting while the phone is ringing...<br /><br />Me: Why are you calling Dad?<br /><br />Will: I'm mad with someone. You know who I'm mad with? (and points at me)<br /><br />Will: He's not answering! Man!<br /><br />Later that evening, as I'm putting Will to bed and about to leave the room...<br /><br />Will: Mommy? <br /><br />Me: Yes?<br /><br />Will: Even when you annoy me, I still love you.<br /><br />Me: Thanks Will. I love you, too.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-70260365011633042372009-09-12T15:06:00.002-06:002009-09-12T15:13:40.198-06:00feeling like the domestic goddess...<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;">peaches!</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">thanks to our wonderful neighbors, we got free peaches from the broadbents, and a free canning lesson from judy nelson...</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">and lo and behold, brent and i now have canned peaches!</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380691990182371122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SqwO22CcHzI/AAAAAAAAAN0/YxyPeXmZGXE/s400/Home+Life+001.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-82097129879815115792009-08-31T16:47:00.018-06:002009-09-01T15:35:31.157-06:00The First Day of Kindergarten!!<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;">Will was "a little bit nervous" just before it was time to leave for school.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="center">"mommy, i'm a little bit nervous. </div><div align="center">i think you need to stay with me all day at school."</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"i can't Will. i have to go to the office today. but remember daddy gave you a blessing last night that you wouldn't be nervous at school."</div><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxbLKIwcII/AAAAAAAAANs/ClHvxes8y50/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376272302431301762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxbLKIwcII/AAAAAAAAANs/ClHvxes8y50/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+001.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="color:#000066;">the backpack</span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Will wanted a superheroes backpack</span></div><div align="center">(even after Brent and I showed him ALL of the other "cool" backpacks)</div><div align="center">he was insistant that this <span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">was</span> in fact his backpack!</div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/Spxa4P6RL4I/AAAAAAAAANk/-03El-BifSU/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376271977563631490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/Spxa4P6RL4I/AAAAAAAAANk/-03El-BifSU/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"> leaving for school....<br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:100%;">(not so nervous now)</span><br /></span></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxaFpa4YnI/AAAAAAAAANc/Wed5DzWyBOA/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376271108237976178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxaFpa4YnI/AAAAAAAAANc/Wed5DzWyBOA/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+004.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;">running to school....</span><br />and telling everyone he saw on the way,<br /><span style="font-size:180%;">"today is my first day of school!"<br /></span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxZf2L7kPI/AAAAAAAAANU/3dMdTboICPM/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376270458829902066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxZf2L7kPI/AAAAAAAAANU/3dMdTboICPM/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+005.jpg" border="0" /></a>as I stopped Will from running out into the street....<br />I showed him the crosswalk just a few feet away!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxY4qOVe3I/AAAAAAAAANM/ipiibGhWLkw/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376269785603865458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxY4qOVe3I/AAAAAAAAANM/ipiibGhWLkw/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+006.jpg" border="0" /></a>and there he met<br /><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Ellen, the Crossing Guard</span><br /></span><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxYNVn_uiI/AAAAAAAAANE/FkNsl7u_B1M/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376269041339972130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxYNVn_uiI/AAAAAAAAANE/FkNsl7u_B1M/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+007.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;">finally</span>, getting to school!<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxXzZ5pw4I/AAAAAAAAAM8/iRwMU8Jferk/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376268595811173250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxXzZ5pw4I/AAAAAAAAAM8/iRwMU8Jferk/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+008.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />and then he had to be reminded that he was not outside, and had to come back out of his classroom and walk in nicely...</div><div>(and of course, pose for another picture!)<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxXSDfm5KI/AAAAAAAAAM0/WQg5netm6Zo/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376268022860670114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxXSDfm5KI/AAAAAAAAAM0/WQg5netm6Zo/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+009.jpg" border="0" /></a> He found his coat/backpack hook with his name on it.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxW6ZDz92I/AAAAAAAAAMs/qj-3YVuBkJA/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376267616332805986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxW6ZDz92I/AAAAAAAAAMs/qj-3YVuBkJA/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+010.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxWinE0S1I/AAAAAAAAAMk/60bDt0zjcXQ/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376267207778257746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxWinE0S1I/AAAAAAAAAMk/60bDt0zjcXQ/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+011.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />And his very own cubby with all of his new school supplies...<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxWDXgQruI/AAAAAAAAAMc/n8mweSIrDwM/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376266671022452450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxWDXgQruI/AAAAAAAAAMc/n8mweSIrDwM/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+013.jpg" border="0" /></a> ...and a pose with his new binder, ...<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxVstEtJkI/AAAAAAAAAMU/_EV8l_CezLc/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+015.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376266281675466306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxVstEtJkI/AAAAAAAAAMU/_EV8l_CezLc/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+015.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />... and his teacher, <span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Mrs. Perry</span>.</span><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxVUPYZOqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/yLnj2FPp-FI/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+016.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376265861388122786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxVUPYZOqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/yLnj2FPp-FI/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+016.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div>and then he found a table with some boys already doing some puzzle games and introduced himself, and I said goodbye. He didn't look back. </div><div>Obviously, the nervousness was gone. :)</div><div></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxUtEFUaZI/AAAAAAAAAME/_lyQgQJ8Jk8/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376265188340427154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxUtEFUaZI/AAAAAAAAAME/_lyQgQJ8Jk8/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+020.jpg" border="0" /></a>Will's good friend from Primary, Isaac is also in his class.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxUCQsvcqI/AAAAAAAAAL8/190PWXGvmSQ/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376264452992627362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxUCQsvcqI/AAAAAAAAAL8/190PWXGvmSQ/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+022.jpg" border="0" /></a>His friend, Caleb is in another Kindergarten class, </div><div>but we saw him after school.<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxTlIu9U7I/AAAAAAAAAL0/KIR-8qdA4Iw/s1600-h/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+023.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376263952638235570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpxTlIu9U7I/AAAAAAAAAL0/KIR-8qdA4Iw/s400/William+-+1st+Day+of+Kindergarten+023.jpg" border="0" /></a> Will <span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;">LOVED</span> his first day of Kindergarten!!<br />and is looking forward to more days to come! :)</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34372690.post-59823789558209182592009-08-27T20:40:00.009-06:002009-08-27T21:31:30.962-06:00The Meisingers come to town...<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">we love visitors!</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">on august 3rd we had lots of brent's family come into town. </span></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374851845878608226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpdPRtHycWI/AAAAAAAAALs/487yF5ibVvk/s400/Visiting+Meisingers+Aug+2009+006.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;">Penny flew in from Denver. Stephanie and her daughters, Tana and Tara drove down from Idaho. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The following week Brent's Mom, along with his sister Willie and her husband, and their two daughters drove up from Albuquerque.</span> </span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">All of this to support Penny and join with her to celebrate her first temple experience. It was truly wonderful!</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">We spent a lot of time at the table playing </span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">Hand and Foot, and Nertz.</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374842154196454930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpdGdkyszhI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Uig-jbInpGw/s400/Visiting+Meisingers+Aug+2009+001.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">Our cute Jasmin.</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374842722586291954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpdG-qNZbvI/AAAAAAAAAK8/lLItxsIMR9I/s400/Visiting+Meisingers+Aug+2009+002.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">And the ever so lovely Te'a.</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374843252257976594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpdHdfY98RI/AAAAAAAAALE/qWcAS1QzZu4/s400/Visiting+Meisingers+Aug+2009+003.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">...and the comic relief of the family...Willie</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374850650448556034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpdOMHzDcAI/AAAAAAAAALk/lc8aidUb74k/s400/Visiting+Meisingers+Aug+2009+004.jpg" border="0" /></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">Most of the family was able to come and congregate at the house. Those that weren't there were missed terribly.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374845735919293522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I96-Q8HSVnU/SpdJuDv-FFI/AAAAAAAAALc/8BcpNIpSHhk/s400/Visiting+Meisingers+Aug+2009+007.jpg" border="0" /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115538957195772286noreply@blogger.com2