tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343491382024-03-13T13:32:35.431-07:00Where is Momma Ashaleea?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-27449365942176797412012-03-31T23:42:00.003-07:002012-03-31T23:58:16.028-07:00BlessingMike's mom came to visit last weekend so we decided to bless Elsa. I found a vintage dress for under $10. She looked like an old fashioned baby. Somehow the dress got poofed up behind her head in the first photo- it isn't a Shakespearean collar she is wearing. I'm not THAT old fashioned!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZuDIUbalRRk/T3f2UljczXI/AAAAAAAAAX0/RVaoKxV7gVM/s1600/DSC_4741.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZuDIUbalRRk/T3f2UljczXI/AAAAAAAAAX0/RVaoKxV7gVM/s320/DSC_4741.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726316284763491698" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cAAU2rAOGeM/T3f5YBNZC-I/AAAAAAAAAYI/3VaE1yzhpBY/s1600/DSC_4763.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cAAU2rAOGeM/T3f5YBNZC-I/AAAAAAAAAYI/3VaE1yzhpBY/s320/DSC_4763.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726319642261654498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Lse6BjhJw4/T3f5YILXoYI/AAAAAAAAAYA/UGwTZAstdaA/s1600/DSC_4750.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Lse6BjhJw4/T3f5YILXoYI/AAAAAAAAAYA/UGwTZAstdaA/s320/DSC_4750.jpeg" b0="" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726319644132221314" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-47022720538767289532012-03-31T23:27:00.006-07:002012-03-31T23:59:59.599-07:00Time marches on......whether I am ready or not. I've been trying my best to savor this month of newbornness (I know that is not a word) with Elsa, but yesterday she turned 5 weeks old and I think-where has the time gone? I look at these pictures and realize how much she is changing.<br />Fresh out of the bath:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-805zMMn7bj8/T3f2UPenQII/AAAAAAAAAXo/_Q-46En6mBs/s1600/DSC_4730.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-805zMMn7bj8/T3f2UPenQII/AAAAAAAAAXo/_Q-46En6mBs/s320/DSC_4730.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726316278837624962" border="0" /></a><br />For Sarah:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PYLnF8EvYQo/T3f2T84sf6I/AAAAAAAAAXY/sF6YAsn048c/s1600/DSC_4682.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PYLnF8EvYQo/T3f2T84sf6I/AAAAAAAAAXY/sF6YAsn048c/s320/DSC_4682.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726316273846747042" border="0" /></a><br />Just plain cute:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vluYJ8x9tIM/T3f2TxV2FYI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/9kBq5TThk-0/s1600/DSC_4680.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vluYJ8x9tIM/T3f2TxV2FYI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/9kBq5TThk-0/s320/DSC_4680.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726316270747784578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Thank goodness for cameras so we can capture these fleeting moments.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-11530983656459531262012-03-31T23:11:00.003-07:002012-03-31T23:25:31.702-07:00See Marah SewMarah went into a sewing frenzy for a week or so and made two beautiful clothing items. I helped her decipher instructions a few times. But other than that she did it all herself. She did an awesome job.<br /><br />First she made this skirt. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2s5nBqhje_Q/T3fy3_mZLsI/AAAAAAAAAW4/IKaATP69CDI/s1600/IMG_0632.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2s5nBqhje_Q/T3fy3_mZLsI/AAAAAAAAAW4/IKaATP69CDI/s320/IMG_0632.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726312495004069570" /></a><br /><br />She had so much fun with the skirt we decided to go get fabric to make another one. When we got to the fabric section of High School Pharmacy (our local small town store) the fabric was 40% off. Marah saw this fabric and knew she had to make a dress. Isn't it fun?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G4wP2PlDMW4/T3fy4EwsQPI/AAAAAAAAAXA/dYpodbmNj1s/s1600/IMG_0634.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G4wP2PlDMW4/T3fy4EwsQPI/AAAAAAAAAXA/dYpodbmNj1s/s320/IMG_0634.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726312496389439730" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-68332501710467337142012-02-28T22:20:00.010-08:002012-02-29T09:05:33.988-08:00A Name and A Birth StoryWe finally decided on a name. Our 7 year old daughter, Abigail, was getting quite distressed that it was taking soooooo long. But we did decide....please meet our baby girl, Elsa Ruth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W8jiMA5eFt0/T03ip9SttyI/AAAAAAAAAV8/AgubQ2vUb38/s1600/DSC_4462.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W8jiMA5eFt0/T03ip9SttyI/AAAAAAAAAV8/AgubQ2vUb38/s320/DSC_4462.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714472712658597666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />*********************************************************************************<br />Now for the story of how she was born (hint, hint- anyone who doesn't like birth stories can quit reading now)<br /><br />My due date was Feb 18th. I have always delivered late except with Abigail (and I suspect that she was up in heaven asking "Can I go now? please can I go now? why is this taking so long? Can I go NOW???" and they finally let her come a week early) but anyway, I wasn't expecting to have this baby early. Three days before my due date, however, I woke in the middle of the night shaking. I pulled the comforter up over me and tried to warm up, but still I shook and shook. Then I realized I wasn't just cold, this was birth hormones- I'm starting labor! So I tried to relax and get just a few more minutes of sleep before contractions started. I fell asleep and woke the next morning still pregnant. Darn. The next night I had some contractions, but they didn't progress to labor and the next night the same thing. I was starting to get anxious and my children were feeling the effects of a nesting mommy. We cleaned the playroom, they did ALL their chores, I spent a day sewing a new pad and bumper for the moses basket (which meant they had lots of free time, but ate cold cereal for breakfast and made their own pb&j for lunch) we mopped floors, and we also made cookies at the end of my due date day to celebrate.<br /><br />So I was pretty sure once my due date had come that this baby would be born but the next several days I had some contractions but nothing very strong and nothing that was regular. Wednesday night I woke up shaking again but still I didn't go into labor. Finally on Thursday I went to see my midwife. She did an internal exam, stripped my membranes and sent me home.<br />That night I woke up just after midnight with some stronger contractions. I started shaking (I hate that part- its worse than contractions) I started timing contractions. They were only about 10 minutes apart, but not very regular- sometimes 10 min apart sometimes 20 min. But they were getting stronger. I paced around a lot in the quiet house wondering when things would get more intense. At one point I laid down and slept for half and hour (meaning no contractions for that long). What is going on I thought? Am I progressing or not? Then I started shaking again. I decided to call the midwife. I told her that the contractions were irregular but about 10 minutes apart and getting stronger. She told me to call her in an hour to report again. I started thinking...is this going to be a long labor?<br /><br />About 15 minutes later I had another contractions and in that instant I knew the midwife needed to come NOW- this was not going to be a long labor. As I turned on the tub water I told Mike to call her and tell her it was time. It is about a 25 minute drive from my midwife's home to our home. I started to wonder if she would make it in time....things were picking up speed. Mike was there with back rubs and water (thank you thank you) but he didn't know I was beginning to wonder if he might have to catch this baby. I knew I was starting into transition when she finally got there because my contractions were one on top of each other. I was trying to relax- trying to let the pain wash over me like waves, trying to imagine a flower opening, trying to relax my shoulders. At this point the sound of people talking was grating. Mike was chit chatting with the midwife as she set up her equipment and I was thinking "Shut up!" But even forming the words would have taken too much energy away from trying to concentrate on these contractions. I was starting to feel panic- like a nightmare of a wave pool where the waves are too big and you think you are going to drown. I was on my knees leaning on the side of the tub, hanging on for dear life. Then all at once the intense waves at the wave pool stopped. I was calm, I sat up, "Ooh, I'm glad transition is over!" I felt like I was me again. Mike and the midwife laughed "Ok, I'm going to push on the next one." I gave a push and I felt my bag of waters pop. Then on the next contraction I pushed and the burning ring o' fire began. That is always the point they tell you to slow down. Slow down? I want to get this over with! The baby's head was out. I pushed again through that ring of fire and heard a baby cry. But all I could do was pant and say "Ow! Ow! Ow!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4aNSZMIYu7U/T03jKbZMsdI/AAAAAAAAAWI/csripTRfctw/s1600/DSC_4357.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4aNSZMIYu7U/T03jKbZMsdI/AAAAAAAAAWI/csripTRfctw/s320/DSC_4357.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714473270494671314" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Of course then it was all worth it as I took that sweet baby girl in my arms.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n4dOvq3QePQ/T03jwtDYZaI/AAAAAAAAAWU/DWt5QdBFHCA/s1600/DSC_4451.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n4dOvq3QePQ/T03jwtDYZaI/AAAAAAAAAWU/DWt5QdBFHCA/s320/DSC_4451.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714473928070030754" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And that is how Elsa Ruth was born. 5 hours from start to finish.<br /><br />I am very grateful that the birth went smoothly. As Elsa emerged the midwife unwrapped the cord from around her neck about three or four times. She said that I was lucky my water hadn't broken until the end because it kept the cord from getting compressed. Otherwise I may have had to transfer to the hospital for an emergency c-section. Scary.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfqC_4XAJbg/T03kBgmk_JI/AAAAAAAAAWs/86ggWpigTn4/s1600/DSC_4326.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfqC_4XAJbg/T03kBgmk_JI/AAAAAAAAAWs/86ggWpigTn4/s320/DSC_4326.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714474216785771666" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Abby had requested to see the baby with the umbilical cord still attached- so Mike went to wake her up. She came in rubbing her eyes and watched as the cord was cut and the placenta was delivered. (She officially declared that the placenta is gross.) Then we woke up Marah, because she had requested NOT to see all that. She came in and met her sister. Then we woke up Amelia so she wouldn't feel left out. We let the boys sleep.<br /><br />Since her birth Elsa has had nearly a constant shower of kisses and a constant line of eager arms to hold her. I think we'll keep her!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6u-3ISJOG7c/T03kBrkAqXI/AAAAAAAAAWg/2mrY9FBYjv4/s1600/DSC_4318.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6u-3ISJOG7c/T03kBrkAqXI/AAAAAAAAAWg/2mrY9FBYjv4/s320/DSC_4318.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714474219727792498" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-27658812237103390722012-02-26T19:44:00.003-08:002012-02-26T22:12:37.910-08:00Welcome Little One<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qrVUwaNIDPg/T0sdQkmbAxI/AAAAAAAAAVs/ucDW91UmwrM/s1600/on%2Bshoulder.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qrVUwaNIDPg/T0sdQkmbAxI/AAAAAAAAAVs/ucDW91UmwrM/s320/on%2Bshoulder.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713692722789548818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0erAygWutuw/T0sdQRD6xeI/AAAAAAAAAVk/7LzhLEDAbhQ/s1600/sweet%2Bsleep.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0erAygWutuw/T0sdQRD6xeI/AAAAAAAAAVk/7LzhLEDAbhQ/s320/sweet%2Bsleep.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713692717544556002" /></a><br />She doesn't have a name quite yet, but she does have lots of hair and lots of love!<br /><br />born Feb 24th, 5:13 am<br />8 lb 6oz<br />20 3/4 inches<br /><br />Name, more pics and possibly a birth story to follow shortly...I promise!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-17594759864994546102011-08-26T19:38:00.000-07:002011-08-26T20:25:07.758-07:00Summer Catch UpThe sun finally came out and we have had a lovely summer. Not too hot, not too rainy. Unfortunately not quite warm enough for my tomatoes to get ripe, but I did plant them a tad late- and I'm not giving up yet.
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<br />We went to Utah at the beginning of the summer to visit family and had a wonderful visit. We had all my siblings and their families here in Oregon for a reunion. And we went camping with friends in California.
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<br />Also this summer: Marah went to her first year of Girls camp, Ethan went to Cub Scout camp, Abby has lost a few teeth, Mia changed her name to "Obsessed with candy Obsessed with potato chips Christenson", and Zane has turned into a real "terrible two" at the tender age of 18 months- and I have the scars on my neck and arms to prove it. Anyone who has experience with clawing toddlers- please help! This is a new one for me.
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<br />And as a final surprise, I'll let you all know that there will be a new little Christenson joining our family in February.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-18406783382666878852011-02-27T16:35:00.000-08:002011-02-27T17:09:20.435-08:00A Gloomy Sort of Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7eOC_3hMB4c/TWrwTxR2wMI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/QHEiesxC2hk/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 198px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7eOC_3hMB4c/TWrwTxR2wMI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/QHEiesxC2hk/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578535310888190146" /></a><br />Today is a gloomy day. Its gray and windy and cold. One of my chickens died. We've been playing "Pass the Cold" in our family for two weeks; complete with ear infection, cough, runny nose and goopy eyes. I just want to go back to sleep and wake up when it is spring.<br /><br />But some good things did happen today. Several talks and lessons at church really struck a chord with me. One particular lesson was about how our Father in Heaven knows and loves each of us and wants us to return home to him. I remember in the story "Alice in Wonderland" when Alice meets the cheshire cat and he tells her that if she doesn't know where she wants to go then it doesn't really matter which path she takes. I know where I want to go: home to my Heavenly Father. I know which path I want to take: the one that follows in Christ's footsteps. I know that through prayerfully seeking guidance and listening to the whisperings of the Spirit I will know what God wants me to do-and I know that this brings the greatest peace and happiness of all. <br /><br />So even though I'm feeling a little gloomy today, I know my Heavenly Father loves me and that makes me look forward to spring.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-63596577560513706802011-01-20T22:19:00.000-08:002011-01-20T22:35:43.995-08:00A Flutey Sort of Person<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/TTko4C2FvoI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QwemjIUPPI8/s1600/marah.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/TTko4C2FvoI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QwemjIUPPI8/s320/marah.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564523757894483586" /></a><br />In one of my favorite movies, "Enchanted April", Lottie says she has always thought of herself as a flutey sort of person. Well our Marah IS a flutey person - a flautist and a good one! We are so proud of her. On January 15th she won the MTNA Northwest Junior Division Competition and she'll be going to Wisconsin in March to compete at the national level. Way to go Marah!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-84108381543710895692011-01-14T16:22:00.000-08:002011-01-20T22:18:41.129-08:00Happy New YearObviously I haven't had blogging very high on my list of "Things to Do" and I didn't get Christmas cards out this year either so here is the year in a nutshell for anyone who still happens to peek at this page once in a blue moon.<br /><br />Spring 2010- The first week of May we picked up 18 one day old chicks. They were so cute. They lived in our play room in a kiddie pool under a heat lamp. Then they grew up a little and they were ugly and poopy. Mike went to work and rescued me from my over enthusiasm for farm life and built a chicken coop. The chicks did outgrow the ugly stage and now they are beautiful hens (and one handsome rooster)- We gathered our first eggs in October. And they are delish!<br /><br />Summer 2010- We went to a family reunion in Idaho. We had a very small humble garden. Mike's parents came to visit. Ethan got baptized in August. Mike took three weeks off. Marah, Ethan and Abby performed in "Mary Poppins".<br /><br />Fall 2010- We went to Utah for Thanksgiving- very icy roads. Can we lobby to have T-Day in September before winter weather hits?<br /><br />Winter 2010- We went to Southern California for Christmas and New Year's Eve. Zane turned 1. Marah and Ethan went surfing for the first time.<br /><br />Happy New Year!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-67095185172810240962010-04-11T21:04:00.000-07:002010-04-11T22:48:56.639-07:00Recycled dress shirt dress<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S8Kvesup99I/AAAAAAAAAUo/ETSwOhacVIA/s1600/mia+dress"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S8Kvesup99I/AAAAAAAAAUo/ETSwOhacVIA/s320/mia+dress" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459118640264247250" /></a><br />I made this dress for Mia from an old dress shirt that had an ink stain in the front pocket. The front buttons of the shirt became the back buttons of the dress.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S8KvfEmYZXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/HVcqXXjlutU/s1600/mia+dress+2"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S8KvfEmYZXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/HVcqXXjlutU/s320/mia+dress+2" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459118646671992178" /></a><br />When I finished I wished I had taken photos of the entire process. I used the bottom half of the shirt from the armpits down to make the skirt and then cut the bodice of the dress from the top of the shirt and the sleeves and collar from the sleeves of the shirt. I loved the fact that I didn't have to deal with making button holes or sewing in a zipper!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-51355826262518380442010-04-11T20:19:00.001-07:002010-04-11T22:50:27.347-07:00Ciao!Mike, Zane and I went to Italy last month for a week. It was an amazing vacation! We visited Venice and Florence. The art, canals and "elegant decay" of Venice was enchanting. The labyrinth of walkways between buildings gave our map reading skills and sense of direction a good work out! <br />In Florence we saw lots of art and sculpture including Michelangelo's David, works by Giotto, Da Vinci, Botticelli...it was like living in a book about the Renaissance. We also tasted the best gelato I've ever eaten at a shop called GROM! Oh how I miss you pistachio and hazelnut and dark chocolate...<br /><br />I wish traveling wasn't so expensive because it makes studying history so amazing and memorable (and yummy!) Here is a pic of Zane and me on the Rialto bridge in Venice. Arrivederci!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S8KRryHdaFI/AAAAAAAAAUg/TZ_GZMHrHqo/s1600/rialto"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S8KRryHdaFI/AAAAAAAAAUg/TZ_GZMHrHqo/s320/rialto" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459085879699925074" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-4945745774266017912010-02-28T19:21:00.001-08:002010-03-04T00:39:44.581-08:00Blessing DayWe had Zane blessed a couple weeks ago. He wore the blessing outfit that Mike wore almost 40 (shhh!) years ago. The quilt was made by my amazingly talented sister-in-law. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S4sz-zanA3I/AAAAAAAAAUY/Hl5rtPMvFnU/s1600-h/zane+blessing2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S4sz-zanA3I/AAAAAAAAAUY/Hl5rtPMvFnU/s320/zane+blessing2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443501728654099314" /></a><br />I love this little cap. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S4sz-TqYsUI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/Jk3p-tzu74Q/s1600-h/zane+blessing1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S4sz-TqYsUI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/Jk3p-tzu74Q/s320/zane+blessing1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443501720130335042" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-37196199447272710272010-01-04T22:55:00.000-08:002010-01-04T23:29:05.378-08:0012 days oldZane Michael<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S0Li_sQRGBI/AAAAAAAAAUA/PdNGcF9BiNA/s1600-h/DSC_7241.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S0Li_sQRGBI/AAAAAAAAAUA/PdNGcF9BiNA/s320/DSC_7241.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423146485146523666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S0Li_MdH0XI/AAAAAAAAAT4/LRUmore5_X4/s1600-h/DSC_7240.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/S0Li_MdH0XI/AAAAAAAAAT4/LRUmore5_X4/s320/DSC_7240.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423146476610507122" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-63868598936018369562009-12-24T17:33:00.000-08:002009-12-24T17:39:54.604-08:00He's here!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzQXXZgLiMI/AAAAAAAAATw/oIpSYeZmAZw/s1600-h/DSC_6971.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzQXXZgLiMI/AAAAAAAAATw/oIpSYeZmAZw/s320/DSC_6971.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418981942383839426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzQXDoTF_qI/AAAAAAAAATo/MACLlGBBbN0/s1600-h/DSC_6964.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzQXDoTF_qI/AAAAAAAAATo/MACLlGBBbN0/s320/DSC_6964.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418981602758098594" /></a><br /><br />Our little guy was born Dec. 23rd at 5:45 am. He weighed 8 lb 11 oz and was 20 inches long. We're so glad to have him here safe and sound for Christmas!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-73630781053514940372009-12-22T20:55:00.000-08:002009-12-22T21:27:53.414-08:00Count down to ChristmasI think counting down the days to Christmas has got to be one of my most favorite things. Here is our advent I tried this year. Several years ago I made these mini stockings but never used them. This year I got on the ball and stuffed them with candy and an activity to do for each day. Some days were simple activities like "Round up the Christmas CD's and listen to music", some were spiritual like "Read Luke 2" and some were crafts.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkB7Po7II/AAAAAAAAASI/iW8LWOUJo7U/s1600-h/100_1825.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkB7Po7II/AAAAAAAAASI/iW8LWOUJo7U/s320/100_1825.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418292179693530242" /></a><br />One day we made marshmallow snowmen, another day we made candy picture frames and another day we made candy cane reindeer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkDBhqr6I/AAAAAAAAASg/iqpbodBjNAI/s1600-h/100_1823.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkDBhqr6I/AAAAAAAAASg/iqpbodBjNAI/s320/100_1823.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418292198559625122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGnrz57ZbI/AAAAAAAAASo/dNXkYDHlPHI/s1600-h/100_1828.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGnrz57ZbI/AAAAAAAAASo/dNXkYDHlPHI/s320/100_1828.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418296197812807090" /></a><br />We made a red and green paper chain for our tree.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkChzanlI/AAAAAAAAASY/AIrRb5fO4v4/s1600-h/100_1819.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkChzanlI/AAAAAAAAASY/AIrRb5fO4v4/s320/100_1819.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418292190044134994" /></a><br />And we made a little forest of paper trees:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkCYyQvQI/AAAAAAAAASQ/SXjpOt3bY-o/s1600-h/100_1818.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGkCYyQvQI/AAAAAAAAASQ/SXjpOt3bY-o/s320/100_1818.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418292187623374082" /></a><br />Here are our gingerbread men:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGnsnvXSAI/AAAAAAAAASw/YjnbT0yi6Q4/s1600-h/100_1836.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGnsnvXSAI/AAAAAAAAASw/YjnbT0yi6Q4/s320/100_1836.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418296211727140866" /></a><br /><br />And these are our gingerbread houses. Someday I want to make a REAL gingerbread house but this year graham crackers worked just fine. The candy is the fun part anyway, right?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGnt6d6aII/AAAAAAAAATI/jrqiecnuMys/s1600-h/100_1840.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGnt6d6aII/AAAAAAAAATI/jrqiecnuMys/s320/100_1840.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418296233934088322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGntUaReOI/AAAAAAAAATA/Ovjj-EbG9UQ/s1600-h/100_1839.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGntUaReOI/AAAAAAAAATA/Ovjj-EbG9UQ/s320/100_1839.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418296223718275298" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGns0pa-qI/AAAAAAAAAS4/AMY6gS_4NZQ/s1600-h/100_1837.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGns0pa-qI/AAAAAAAAAS4/AMY6gS_4NZQ/s320/100_1837.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418296215191878306" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-59503202432017218532009-12-21T21:28:00.000-08:002009-12-22T21:31:59.709-08:00Pumpkin Pie<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGrJvnX6ZI/AAAAAAAAATQ/VRm-aX1XD2k/s1600-h/100_1835.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGrJvnX6ZI/AAAAAAAAATQ/VRm-aX1XD2k/s320/100_1835.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418300010592201106" /></a><br />I made pumpkin pie with the pumpkins we grew in our garden. I eat pumpkin pie for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert, so these two didn't last long...and so I had to make two more.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-82381091251858291642009-12-20T21:32:00.000-08:002009-12-22T21:41:26.170-08:00Due Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGrrG5L5pI/AAAAAAAAATY/ukAXs8v0T20/s1600-h/100_1849.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SzGrrG5L5pI/AAAAAAAAATY/ukAXs8v0T20/s320/100_1849.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418300583776609938" /></a><br /><br />Today is my due date but baby boy hasn't made his appearance. Is he waiting for Grandma and Grandpa to come? Is he waiting for Christmas Eve? Maybe he is waiting for us to decide on his name. What is your vote: Ezra Sean or Zane Michael?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-50111867486156237692009-07-27T11:14:00.000-07:002009-07-27T11:38:34.931-07:00At least we are lame together...If you celebrate something without realizing it does it count as a celebration? Last night I put the kids to bed fairly early and Mike and I enjoyed pina coladas before going to bed. This morning Mike was checking his email and then he looked at me with a funny smile on his face and asked "Why didn't we celebrate yesterday?" I was puzzled, "What are you talking about?" He replied, "Yesterday was our anniversary...your dad just reminded me in this email." <br /><br />We've been married 12 years. We are both so lame.<br /><br />I think I'll make pina coladas again, tonight. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/Sm3zOJiM63I/AAAAAAAAASA/mmduMNBVHeo/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 77px; height: 129px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/Sm3zOJiM63I/AAAAAAAAASA/mmduMNBVHeo/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363210155671219058" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-17208159419130768382009-07-19T22:34:00.001-07:002009-07-19T22:44:24.523-07:00And the take home message is...I asked Abby (age 4) to tell me about what she learned in Primary today at church. I will quote her to the best of my memory.<br /><br />Abby: In my little class today my teacher tied a cloth over our eyes and then we had to find our seat, but I didn't have a turn because I didn't want a cloth over my eyes.<br /><br />Me: So what was that supposed to teach you?<br /><br />Abby: It was supposed to show us how easy it was to find our seat when we can't see.<br /><br />Me: OhUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-58127813792928173082009-07-12T14:13:00.000-07:002009-07-12T14:51:32.921-07:00Read this book!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SlpauksWwqI/AAAAAAAAARw/j341DwNkTQw/s1600-h/3CTCoverSmall.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SlpauksWwqI/AAAAAAAAARw/j341DwNkTQw/s320/3CTCoverSmall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357694462880826018" /></a><br />A year ago my mother in law lent me "Three Cups of Tea". I finally read it last week and I wish I had read it a year ago. It is the story of a man's mission to bring schools and education to children in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Greg Mortenson was a mountain climber who was separated from his group on K2, the highest peak in the mountain range between Pakistan and China. He stumbled into a small village where they took him in, fed him, let him sleep and recover from near death. He noticed that the village had no school. The children met outside and scratched their lessons in the dirt...without a teacher (the teacher split his time between several villages). Greg Mortenson promised his new friends that he would build them a school. It is amazing that he was able to fulfill that promise and then go on to build many many more schools throughout the country and Afghanistan- schools for boys and girls. These schools offer a moderate Islamic education. They give the people of Pakistan and Afghanistan an alternative to the radical madrassa schools that the Taliban recruit from. He is fighting terrorism in the best way.<br /><br />https://www.ikat.org/three-cups-of-tea/Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-383262708851282472009-06-22T22:22:00.000-07:002009-06-22T22:30:05.696-07:00KittiesAbby's friend has a cat that had kittens. Abby had it all arranged with her friend that when they were ready to leave their mommy we would take two kittens. So here they are.<br />Violet is the white and black one. She has the cutest face ever. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBnZ7E7ljI/AAAAAAAAARo/1_yWnZa9TqA/s1600-h/100_1658.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBnZ7E7ljI/AAAAAAAAARo/1_yWnZa9TqA/s320/100_1658.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350390052368913970" /></a><br />Midnight is the black one. He has white tips on his longer hair. It looks like he brushed up against wet paint.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBnZVabuMI/AAAAAAAAARg/2f9RKwtcP10/s1600-h/100_1657.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBnZVabuMI/AAAAAAAAARg/2f9RKwtcP10/s320/100_1657.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350390042258553026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBnZFPOLPI/AAAAAAAAARY/SA8LXb1QZ1M/s1600-h/100_1656.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBnZFPOLPI/AAAAAAAAARY/SA8LXb1QZ1M/s320/100_1656.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350390037916560626" /></a><br /> <br /><br />Watching kittens pounce and explore and wrestle together has been keeping us highly entertained!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-13885653593062781402009-06-22T22:09:00.000-07:002009-06-22T22:16:11.890-07:00Look what I got!I walked into a little shop today and this cute little purse said, "BUY ME!" So I did. Doesn't it look like a great tourist purse...hmmm, vacation anyone???<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBkRTTlsdI/AAAAAAAAARQ/6rJoR1JRfsI/s1600-h/MDC402TMMG.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 263px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SkBkRTTlsdI/AAAAAAAAARQ/6rJoR1JRfsI/s320/MDC402TMMG.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350386605719138770" /></a><br /><br />check out www.baggallini.com to see all their great styles.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-64636928125678023762009-04-18T11:20:00.000-07:002009-04-18T11:32:12.439-07:00No Cake!?On April 15th I took my four year old and 1 year old to a TEA party on the steps of the capitol building. We protested the excessive government spending that is putting our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren into DEBT. <br /><br />Later that day Abby told my aunt, "We went to a tea party but we didn't eat cake." <br /><br />At least she got an American flag.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-3899419730718480542009-04-18T11:11:00.000-07:002009-04-18T11:19:59.855-07:00My Artists<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SeoY4xxBIOI/AAAAAAAAARI/SfAm9DOGYvs/s1600-h/100_1524.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SeoY4xxBIOI/AAAAAAAAARI/SfAm9DOGYvs/s320/100_1524.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326096873029705954" /></a><br />This photo was taken awhile ago but I thought it captured so many of the reasons why I love homeschooling. I bought the kids new sketchbooks and they decided together that they wanted to go sketch. I love to see my children learning together.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34349138.post-29637655275569402972009-04-18T11:00:00.000-07:002009-04-18T11:11:18.096-07:00First sewing project<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SeoXlnmtMKI/AAAAAAAAARA/6foVGgASz74/s1600-h/100_1597.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SeoXlnmtMKI/AAAAAAAAARA/6foVGgASz74/s320/100_1597.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326095444372959394" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SeoXldTlhvI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/7_ilGoZncmU/s1600-h/100_1596.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OpCn1b9DsuE/SeoXldTlhvI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/7_ilGoZncmU/s320/100_1596.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326095441608410866" /></a><br />This is Marah's first sewing project on the sewing machine. Mom helped a little but she did most of it. She is ready for warm sunny weather!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3